The food for thy great hunts, but never yet Have I received a recompense?" The King To this replied with smiles: "Prepare afresh, For I to-morrow shall depart again. If I take nothing, I'll return at once." As he caressed the Queen, upon her breast He felt the little magic fish of gold All safe. Then gave he quick commands to all. "I'll hunt to-morrow, and shall surely bring Some wondrous game." Now when the princess fell Asleep he found upon her heart no more The little fish. "'Tis as the maiden said," He thought. "The princess hath a wicked soul. With such a heart I cannot go with her Through life." Through all the night he could not sleep, But thought upon the girl. He was as sad As though he heard a touching song. At dawn The royal couple rose and went to bathe. The King into the palace came again And sat upon the throne adorned with gems. He donned the royal robe to wear before The dear young girl. A vestment 'twas of silk, All gold embroidered, with a tunic bright, Of orange hue. His mien was most superb, As doth become a mighty king. He bore A quiver of Ceylon, most deftly wrought. When all the _mantris_ had assembled there, The King within the palace once more went And met the Queen. Caressing her he took The little fish that lay upon her breast. The princess wept, and at the door she cried: "Why takest thou my little ornament?" The great King gave no heed, and went away, At dawn's glad hour, when birds begin to sing. Swords gleamed and lances shone, and through the wood They hastened on, with quivers and blow-guns, And seemed a walking city. Now again To Bidasari let us turn. When dawn Appeared, she rose and sat in loneliness, Her face grew still more beautiful. Her state Astonished her. "Perhaps it is the King Who hath this wonder wrought. How happy I To be no longer dead!" She washed her face And felt still sad, but with her pensiveness A certain joy was mingled, for her pain Was passed. Her grief the "talking bird" allayed With songs about the mighty King and love. SONG There's _siri_ in a golden vase, Good Dang Melini plants a rose; The King admires a pretty face, To-day he'll come to this fair close. Good Dang Melini plants a rose, Here in the garden they will meet; To-day he'll come to this fair close, To man and maiden love is sweet. Here in the garden they will meet, Go seek the fairest fruit and flower; To man and maiden love is sweet, The King is coming to the bower.