For Love of the King | Page 2

in two years' time, men of grave,
majestic mien, clad in flowing robes almost monastic in their white
simplicity. They smoke gravely at the invitation of MENG BENG.
Round about are grouped the courtiers, the poonygees, and the
kneeling servants, while in the background wait the dancing girls.
Banners, propelled with a measured rhythm, create an agreeable

breeze. On a great table of gold stand goblets of gold and heaped-up
fruits. Everywhere will be observed the emblems of the Royal Peacock
and the Sacred White Elephant. Burmese musical instruments sound an
abrupt but charming discord. The poinsettias flower punctuates points
of deepest colour from out of vases fashioned like the lotus. Orchids
are everywhere. The indescribable scent of Burmah steals across the
footlights. The glow, the colour, the sun-swept vista sweeps across the
senses. THE KING claps his hands. The DANCING GIRLS, at the
signal, advance. They are clad in dresses made of fish scales, which
are fastened with diamonds and pale emeralds, to imitate the upthrown
spray on the crest of a wave. The dance concluded, the CINGALESE
AMBASSADORS rise and prepare to take ceremonious leave of THE
KING, who hands to them, through his VIZIER, his message to His
Majesty of Ceylon, inscribed on palm leaves and enclosed in a
bejewelled casket.
Many flowery speeches pass. Exit (L.), walking backwards.
THE KING expresses a desire for rest before starting by the Moon of
Taboung {4} for the Pagoda of Golden Flowers.
Exit MENG BENG (C.), an alcove of satin hangings which commands
a view of the great hall.
The Crowd break up into groups. U. RAI GYAN THOO and MOUNG
PHO MHIN converse on the tendency of the King to interference in
affairs of State; his extreme youth and delicacy of temperament; the
pity that the marriage is to be so long delayed; the necessity to find him
some distraction in the meantime.
Suddenly the tom-toms sound loudly.
There is much movement. The
moon rises over the sea. Torches flare as the attendants move to and
fro in the gardens beyond.
The White Elephant of the King, with its trappings of gold, is led to the
entrance where, at a word, it sinks obediently to the ground.
THE KING appears. He has changed his gay apple-green dress to one

of more sombre hue. He enters the howdah--the elephant rises--the
procession starts. It consists of not fewer than two hundred persons,
keeping in view of the audience until lost by a bend in the avenue.

SCENE II
THE PAGODA OF GOLDEN FLOWERS
Midnight
Surrounded by Peepul-trees, the great Htee, {6} with its crown of a
myriad jewels, rises towards the violet, star-studded sky, its golden
bells tinkling in a soft night-wind.
When the curtain rises, the circular platform is deserted. Statues of
Buddha seated and recumbent fill the numberless niches in the wall,
and before each burn long candles; heaped-up pink roses and japonica
on brass trays are lit from above by swinging coloured lamps. At
intervals are stalls laden with fruit and cheroots. All is mysterious,
solemn, beautiful.
A deep Burmese gong tolls. People emerge from the four staircases that
lead up to the platform. Men, women, and children, all in gala attire.
The young people conversing, gesticulating, smiling. The older people,
more subdued, carry beads and votive offering to Buddha. Charming
Burmese girls, with huge cigars, meet and greet handsome Burmese
men smoking cheroots and wearing flowers in their ears. Children play
silently with coloured balls. In the corners, under canopies, are seated
fortune-tellers, busy casting horoscopes. It is a veritable riot of colour,
with never a discordant note.
Through the crowd THE KING
passes alone and unrecognised, and
disappears through double doors of heavily carved teak wood. He has
hardly passed when MAH PHRU, a very lovely girl, enters in distress.
She whispers that she desires an audience of the King who has come
amongst them. The few who hear her shrug their shoulders, smile, and
pass on. They are incredulous. She goes from group to group, but the

people turn from her with disdain. Then the great doors open, and THE
KING is seen. The girl throws herself, Oriental fashion, in his path.
Her beauty and her pathos arrest his attention and he waves aside
those who would interfere. She implores THE KING'S protection. She
is willing to be his slave. He listens with deep attention. She explains
that since her father's death she has been continuously persecuted by
the village people on the double count of her Italian blood and her
poverty.
The girl invites him to come to her hut in the forest and verify what she
says. With a gesture he signifies that he will follow where she leads.
She rises. The crowd gathers round--all are hushed to silence. THE
KING, as one entranced,