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There was a great exodus of women, probably to bathe.) She begs him to kill her; he holds up her face for a moment, gazing at it. But though his mind is beginning to uncloud, he cannot remember, and beats her down with a savage drum-beat. She droops in three movements of unmitigated despair and creeps forward, covering her face with her stole. From this moment Koripan begins more and more to remember, as if with the coming day, which gradually shone on the golden dresses and night-faces of the actors, his intelligence also was returning. But the humiliation of the Galoeh was not yet over. The Likoe becomes more exacting as Koripan is more unsure, and the Galoeh is forced to carry her food to her on her- head.

She is dragged forward and commanded to put it in the Likoe's mouth, and crams it in angrily, addressing her in along, even speech, with commanding gestures but the same sad, unchanging face.The princess was played by a young man of high caste, versed in all the themes of Gamboeh and Ardja. He was so perfect in the feminine pathos of this part that one could hardly picture him in any stronger one; but he is equally splendid as a Baris dancer or as a Gamboeh prince or warrior. The agony of the Galoeh has, by the clock, three more hours to run. The Likoe, furious at the bearing of the slighted princess whom she had hoped to enslave, persuades her mother, the Limboer, to give orders for her death. At this late stage in the play, seven hours after it had begun, a new penasar was introduced, who danced majestically, with sudden wide turns of the hand and arm, fierce, rakshasa manners, and wild, mocking laugh.

In a very strange and moving scene the unfortunate princess was martyrized by her executioner, beaten again and again, flung down and pummeled on the carefully made mattress bed with flower-covered pillow, which had for some time attracted one's attention in front of the Gamelan. All the time her sad voice wails, and her lady hangs over her, embracing her. The penasar swirls about in great agitation; not only is he deeply moved by the lovely pale passionate face of his victim and her pitiful prayers, but his weapon, in spite of the charms he says over it, in spite of his self-inciting cries and the splendid dance in which he tries to imbue it with power to kill, refuses to harm her, though he strikes her again and again while she clings round his neck.

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