It surely is the home of demons dread And spirits. Let us go, lest they surprise Us here." He seemed much moved. "We naught have gained But weariness. So let us all go home To-night, and hither come again at dawn. For I a promise gave the Queen to bring A fawn and a _kidjang_." The _mantris_ said: "None have we taken yet. But game we'll find To-morrow, and will save a pretty fawn." The King, when they returned, went straight within The palace. There he saw the Queen, but thought Of Bidasari. "O my love," he said, "To-morrow I'm resolved to hunt again, And bring thee back a fawn, and win thy thanks. I'm never happy when away from thee, My dearest love. Thine image is engraved Upon my heart." Then he caressed the Queen And fondled her, but still his heart went out To Bidasari. All night long his eyes He did not close in sleep, but thought of her, In all her beauty rare. Before the dawn The royal couple rose. The King then gave Command that those who wished should hunt again With him. At sunrise forth they fared. On Bidasari let us look again. When night had gone, in loneliness she rose, And ate and drank. Then to the bath perfumed She went, and coming to her chamber, took Some _siri_ from the betel-box. She saw A _sepah_ recently in use and cast It forth. She thought within herself: "Who could have used it? Someone hath been here." She ran through all the rooms, but nothing found Except the _sepah_ in the betel-box. "Had it my father been, he would have left Some food for me. Oh, he is very rash To leave me here alone." Upon the couch She sat and wept, and could not tell her grief To anyone. "When we no longer may Live happily," she said, "'tis best to die. My parents never can forgiven be, To leave me here like any infidel. And if I suffer, they will sorrow, too." The _minahs_, the _bajans_, and talking birds Began to sing. She took a 'broidered cloth, And 'neath its folds she sweetly fell asleep. The King's horse flew apace to the _campong_ Of Bidasari. All the _mantris_ said: "Thou takest not the path for hunting, sire; This is but the _campong_ of demons dread And spectres. They may do us deadly harm." The great prince only laughed, and made as if