Almost a Tragedy. 99 
place such as the one we were in, the presence of a troupe of “ divarting vaga- 
bonds,” as strolling players were ‘called i in the time of good Queen Bess, was 
always hailed with delight. 
It does not take long in the jungle to erect a theatre—a few posts and rafters, 
tied with strips of bark, and a layer of nebong leaves, and there youare. We had 
plenty of willing hands, and soon the plant Malay axe and the keen-edged parang 
were being busily used to supply the requirements. No stage or scenery is re- 
quired. Under the roof the actors take their places at one end with the orchestra 
on either side. At the other end the élite are placed, while the general audience 
form a ring outside, sitting on their haunches after the style of Asiatics. 
Damar torches afford the necessary light, and the absence of scenery is not noticed. 
Dialogues and entries fully explain the progress of the play, and the imagina- 
tion of each individual amongst the audience can fillin the needful accessories if 
required. Itis all beautifully simple. As the attention is focussed on the actors, 
it is necessary for the ladies and gentlemen to engage and keep attention. To one 
possessed of histrionic talent, this is not diffic ulf, but a halting actor has a bad 
time of it. 
The prominent members of the troupe were received by us in audience. They 
had come with a great reputation and had a full repertoire. Before deciding on 
any particular play, it was as well to see the performers. The leading lady was 
much spoken of. She was quite a girl, not out of her teens ; petite in figure and 
full of grace, much fairer than the ordinary run of Malays, she bore traces of 
Siamese blood. Art was not absent in her make-up; but it was artistically 
apphed, and enhanced the lustre of her large dark eyes, the expression in which 
mirrored the passing thought and mood. Her features were not such as would 
fulfil perhaps the Western ideal of a perfect outline if studied in detail; but the 
toute ensemble was that of a little fairy full of life and feeling. No wonder she 
attracted the Malays! She was an adept in all the art of dressing effectively, and, 
while adopting the common custom of entwining the flower of the Jessamine 
(bunga malor) round her hair at the back of her head, she added little touches 
here and there which brought out the sleek glossiness of her blue-black luxuriant 
tresses. 
The leading gentleman was also young—a good specimen of his type, with a 
certain refinement, the result, no ‘doubt, of constantly playing the parts of 
Princes and heroes. A certain swagger was inevitable, ‘and I did not doubt his 
ability to represent, with credit, a lover. Another member of whom they were 
said to be justly proud was the comic man. This individual looked a jester. The 
merry twinkle in his eyes, the shrug of his shoulders and the expressive mouth, 
all betokened humour and the faculty of indicating unmistakably some subtle 
joke far beyond the mere uttered words: This always appeals to Malays, who are 
keen to grasp a hidden meaning and interpret an innuendo. Altogether I antici- 
pated the performance with pleasure and looked forward to the evening for a real 
treat. 
As we were preparing to proceed to the theatre, the manager, or proprietor 
properly speaking, ¢ came in great haste towards us, exclaiming, “Alas! Tuan, 
Sahit the jester is ill, and without him we cannot perform.” Here was a fix 
