{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_873/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_873","id":"gutenberg_873","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/873","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Children's stories, English","Fairy tales","Opera","Short stories, English"],"text":"Transcribed from the 1915 Methuen and Co. edition by David Price, email\nccx074@pglaf.org\n\n                          [Picture: Book cover]\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n                                    TO\n                           CONSTANCE MARY WILDE\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n\n\n\n\n                                 A HOUSE\n                             OF POMEGRANATES\n\n\n                                    BY\n                               OSCAR WILDE\n\n                                * * * * *\n\n                            METHUEN & CO. LTD.\n                           36 ESSEX STREET W.C.\n                                  LONDON\n\n                            _Seventh Edition_\n\n_First Published_                                                 1891\n_First Issued by Methuen and Co._ (_Limited Editions on           1908\nHandmade Paper and Japanese Vellum_)\n_Third Edition_ (_F\u2019cap._ 8_vo_)                                  1909\n_Fourth Edition_ ( ,, )                                           1911\n_Fifth Edition_ ( ,, )                                            1913\n_Sixth Edition_ (_Crown_ 4_to_, _Illustrated by Jessie            1915\nKing_)\n_Seventh Edition_ (_F\u2019cap._ 8_vo_)                                1915\n\nCONTENTS\n\n                                 PAGE\nTHE YOUNG KING                          1\nTHE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA            31\nTHE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL             73\nTHE STAR-CHILD                        147\n\n\n\n\nTHE YOUNG KING\n\n\n                                    TO\n                           MARGARET LADY BROOKE\n                          [THE RANEE OF SARAWAK]\n\nIT was the night before the day fixed for his coronation, and the young\nKing was sitting alone in his beautiful chamber.  His courtiers had all\ntaken their leave of him, bowing their heads to the ground, according to\nthe ceremonious usage of the day, and had retired to the Great Hall of\nthe Palace, to receive a few last lessons from the Professor of\nEtiquette; there being some of them who had still quite natural manners,\nwhich in a courtier is, I need hardly say, a very grave offence.\n\nThe lad\u2014for he was only a lad, being but sixteen years of age\u2014was not\nsorry at their departure, and had flung himself back with a deep sigh of\nrelief on the soft cushions of his embroidered couch, lying there,\nwild-eyed and open-mouthed, like a brown woodland Faun, or some young\nanimal of the forest newly snared by the hunters.\n\nAnd, indeed, it was the hunters who had found him, coming upon him almost\nby chance as, bare-limbed and pipe in hand, he was following the flock of\nthe poor goatherd who had brought him up, and whose son he had always\nfancied himself to be.  The child of the old King\u2019s only daughter by a\nsecret marriage with one much beneath her in station\u2014a stranger, some\nsaid, who, by the wonderful magic of his lute-playing, had made the young\nPrincess love him; while others spoke of an artist from Rimini, to whom\nthe Princess had shown much, perhaps too much honour, and who had\nsuddenly disappeared from the city, leaving his work in the Cathedral\nunfinished\u2014he had been, when but a week old, stolen away from his\nmother\u2019s side, as she slept, and given into the charge of a common\npeasant and his wife, who were without children of their own, and lived\nin a remote part of the forest, more than a day\u2019s ride from the town.\nGrief, or the plague, as the court physician stated, or, as some\nsuggested, a swift Italian poison administered in a cup of spiced wine,\nslew, within an hour of her wakening, the white girl who had given him\nbirth, and as the trusty messenger who bare the child across his\nsaddle-bow stooped from his weary horse and knocked at the rude door of\nthe goatherd\u2019s hut, the body of the Princess was being lowered into an\nopen grave that had been dug in a deserted churchyard, beyond the city\ngates, a grave where it was said that another body was also lying, that\nof a young man of marvellous and foreign beauty, whose hands were tied\nbehind him with a knotted cord, and whose breast was stabbed with many\nred wounds.\n\nSuch, at least, was the story that men whispered to each other.  Certain\nit was that the old King, when on his deathbed, whether moved by remorse\nfor his great sin, or merely desiring that the kingdom should not pass\naway from his line, had had the lad sent for, and, in the presence of the\nCouncil, had acknowledged him as his heir.\n\nAnd it seems that from the very first moment of his recognition he had\nshown signs of that strange passion for beauty that was destined to have\nso great an influence over his life.  Those who accompanied him to the\nsuite of rooms set apart for his service, often spoke of the cry of\npleasure that broke from his lips when he saw the delicate raiment and\nrich jewels that had been prepared for him, and of the almost fierce joy\nwith which he flung aside his rough leathern tunic and coarse sheepskin\ncloak.  He missed, indeed, at times the fine freedom of his forest life,\nand was always apt to chafe at the tedious Court ceremonies that occupied\nso much of each day, but the wonderful palace\u2014_Joyeuse_, as they called\nit\u2014of which he now found himself lord, seemed to him to be a new world\nfresh-fashioned for his delight; and as soon as he could escape from the\ncouncil-board or audience-chamber, he would run down the great staircase,\nwith its lions of gilt bronze and its steps of bright porphyry, and\nwander from room to room, and from corridor to corridor, like one who was\nseeking to find in beauty an anodyne from pain, a sort of restoration\nfrom sickness.\n\nUpon these journeys of discovery, as he would call them\u2014and, indeed, they\nwere to him real voyages through a marvellous land, he would sometimes be\naccompanied by the slim, fair-haired Court pages, with their floating\nmantles, and gay fluttering ribands; but more often he would be alone,\nfeeling through a certain quick instinct, which was almost a divination,\nthat the secrets of art are best learned in secret, and that Beauty, like\nWisdom, loves the lonely worshipper.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nMany curious stories were related about him at this period.  It was said\nthat a stout Burgo-master, who had come to deliver a florid oratorical\naddress on behalf of the citizens of the town, had caught sight of him\nkneeling in real adoration before a great picture that had just been\nbrought from Venice, and that seemed to herald the worship of some new\ngods.  On another occasion he had been missed for several hours, and\nafter a lengthened search had been discovered in a little chamber in one\nof the northern turrets of the palace gazing, as one in a trance, at a\nGreek gem carved with the figure of Adonis.  He had been seen, so the\ntale ran, pressing his warm lips to the marble brow of an antique statue\nthat had been discovered in the bed of the river on the occasion of the\nbuilding of the stone bridge, and was inscribed with the name of the\nBithynian slave of Hadrian.  He had passed a whole night in noting the\neffect of the moonlight on a silver image of Endymion.\n\nAll rare and costly materials had certainly a great fascination for him,\nand in his eagerness to procure them he had sent away many merchants,\nsome to traffic for amber with the rough fisher-folk of the north seas,\nsome to Egypt to look for that curious green turquoise which is found\nonly in the tombs of kings, and is said to possess magical properties,\nsome to Persia for silken carpets and painted pottery, and others to\nIndia to buy gauze and stained ivory, moonstones and bracelets of jade,\nsandal-wood and blue enamel and shawls of fine wool.\n\nBut what had occupied him most was the robe he was to wear at his\ncoronation, the robe of tissued gold, and the ruby-studded crown, and the\nsceptre with its rows and rings of pearls.  Indeed, it was of this that\nhe was thinking to-night, as he lay back on his luxurious couch, watching\nthe great pinewood log that was burning itself out on the open hearth.\nThe designs, which were from the hands of the most famous artists of the\ntime, had been submitted to him many months before, and he had given\norders that the artificers were to toil night and day to carry them out,\nand that the whole world was to be searched for jewels that would be\nworthy of their work.  He saw himself in fancy standing at the high altar\nof the cathedral in the fair raiment of a King, and a smile played and\nlingered about his boyish lips, and lit up with a bright lustre his dark\nwoodland eyes.\n\nAfter some time he rose from his seat, and leaning against the carved\npenthouse of the chimney, looked round at the dimly-lit room.  The walls\nwere hung with rich tapestries representing the Triumph of Beauty.  A\nlarge press, inlaid with agate and lapis-lazuli, filled one corner, and\nfacing the window stood a curiously wrought cabinet with lacquer panels\nof powdered and mosaiced gold, on which were placed some delicate goblets\nof Venetian glass, and a cup of dark-veined onyx.  Pale poppies were\nbroidered on the silk coverlet of the bed, as though they had fallen from\nthe tired hands of sleep, and tall reeds of fluted ivory bare up the\nvelvet canopy, from which great tufts of ostrich plumes sprang, like\nwhite foam, to the pallid silver of the fretted ceiling.  A laughing\nNarcissus in green bronze held a polished mirror above its head.  On the\ntable stood a flat bowl of amethyst.\n\nOutside he could see the huge dome of the cathedral, looming like a\nbubble over the shadowy houses, and the weary sentinels pacing up and\ndown on the misty terrace by the river.  Far away, in an orchard, a\nnightingale was singing.  A faint perfume of jasmine came through the\nopen window.  He brushed his brown curls back from his forehead, and\ntaking up a lute, let his fingers stray across the cords.  His heavy\neyelids drooped, and a strange languor came over him.  Never before had\nhe felt so keenly, or with such exquisite joy, the magic and the mystery\nof beautiful things.\n\nWhen midnight sounded from the clock-tower he touched a bell, and his\npages entered and disrobed him with much ceremony, pouring rose-water\nover his hands, and strewing flowers on his pillow.  A few moments after\nthat they had left the room, he fell asleep.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd as he slept he dreamed a dream, and this was his dream.\n\nHe thought that he was standing in a long, low attic, amidst the whir and\nclatter of many looms.  The meagre daylight peered in through the grated\nwindows, and showed him the gaunt figures of the weavers bending over\ntheir cases.  Pale, sickly-looking children were crouched on the huge\ncrossbeams.  As the shuttles dashed through the warp they lifted up the\nheavy battens, and when the shuttles stopped they let the battens fall\nand pressed the threads together.  Their faces were pinched with famine,\nand their thin hands shook and trembled.  Some haggard women were seated\nat a table sewing.  A horrible odour filled the place.  The air was foul\nand heavy, and the walls dripped and streamed with damp.\n\nThe young King went over to one of the weavers, and stood by him and\nwatched him.\n\nAnd the weaver looked at him angrily, and said, \u2018Why art thou watching\nme?  Art thou a spy set on us by our master?\u2019\n\n\u2018Who is thy master?\u2019 asked the young King.\n\n\u2018Our master!\u2019 cried the weaver, bitterly.  \u2018He is a man like myself.\nIndeed, there is but this difference between us\u2014that he wears fine\nclothes while I go in rags, and that while I am weak from hunger he\nsuffers not a little from overfeeding.\u2019\n\n\u2018The land is free,\u2019 said the young King, \u2018and thou art no man\u2019s slave.\u2019\n\n\u2018In war,\u2019 answered the weaver, \u2018the strong make slaves of the weak, and\nin peace the rich make slaves of the poor.  We must work to live, and\nthey give us such mean wages that we die.  We toil for them all day long,\nand they heap up gold in their coffers, and our children fade away before\ntheir time, and the faces of those we love become hard and evil.  We\ntread out the grapes, and another drinks the wine.  We sow the corn, and\nour own board is empty.  We have chains, though no eye beholds them; and\nare slaves, though men call us free.\u2019\n\n\u2018Is it so with all?\u2019 he asked,\n\n\u2018It is so with all,\u2019 answered the weaver, \u2018with the young as well as with\nthe old, with the women as well as with the men, with the little children\nas well as with those who are stricken in years.  The merchants grind us\ndown, and we must needs do their bidding.  The priest rides by and tells\nhis beads, and no man has care of us.  Through our sunless lanes creeps\nPoverty with her hungry eyes, and Sin with his sodden face follows close\nbehind her.  Misery wakes us in the morning, and Shame sits with us at\nnight.  But what are these things to thee?  Thou art not one of us.  Thy\nface is too happy.\u2019  And he turned away scowling, and threw the shuttle\nacross the loom, and the young King saw that it was threaded with a\nthread of gold.\n\nAnd a great terror seized upon him, and he said to the weaver, \u2018What robe\nis this that thou art weaving?\u2019\n\n\u2018It is the robe for the coronation of the young King,\u2019 he answered; \u2018what\nis that to thee?\u2019\n\nAnd the young King gave a loud cry and woke, and lo! he was in his own\nchamber, and through the window he saw the great honey-coloured moon\nhanging in the dusky air.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd he fell asleep again and dreamed, and this was his dream.\n\nHe thought that he was lying on the deck of a huge galley that was being\nrowed by a hundred slaves.  On a carpet by his side the master of the\ngalley was seated.  He was black as ebony, and his turban was of crimson\nsilk.  Great earrings of silver dragged down the thick lobes of his ears,\nand in his hands he had a pair of ivory scales.\n\nThe slaves were naked, but for a ragged loin-cloth, and each man was\nchained to his neighbour.  The hot sun beat brightly upon them, and the\nnegroes ran up and down the gangway and lashed them with whips of hide.\nThey stretched out their lean arms and pulled the heavy oars through the\nwater.  The salt spray flew from the blades.\n\nAt last they reached a little bay, and began to take soundings.  A light\nwind blew from the shore, and covered the deck and the great lateen sail\nwith a fine red dust.  Three Arabs mounted on wild asses rode out and\nthrew spears at them.  The master of the galley took a painted bow in his\nhand and shot one of them in the throat.  He fell heavily into the surf,\nand his companions galloped away.  A woman wrapped in a yellow veil\nfollowed slowly on a camel, looking back now and then at the dead body.\n\nAs soon as they had cast anchor and hauled down the sail, the negroes\nwent into the hold and brought up a long rope-ladder, heavily weighted\nwith lead.  The master of the galley threw it over the side, making the\nends fast to two iron stanchions.  Then the negroes seized the youngest\nof the slaves and knocked his gyves off, and filled his nostrils and his\nears with wax, and tied a big stone round his waist.  He crept wearily\ndown the ladder, and disappeared into the sea.  A few bubbles rose where\nhe sank.  Some of the other slaves peered curiously over the side.  At\nthe prow of the galley sat a shark-charmer, beating monotonously upon a\ndrum.\n\nAfter some time the diver rose up out of the water, and clung panting to\nthe ladder with a pearl in his right hand.  The negroes seized it from\nhim, and thrust him back.  The slaves fell asleep over their oars.\n\nAgain and again he came up, and each time that he did so he brought with\nhim a beautiful pearl.  The master of the galley weighed them, and put\nthem into a little bag of green leather.\n\nThe young King tried to speak, but his tongue seemed to cleave to the\nroof of his mouth, and his lips refused to move.  The negroes chattered\nto each other, and began to quarrel over a string of bright beads.  Two\ncranes flew round and round the vessel.\n\nThen the diver came up for the last time, and the pearl that he brought\nwith him was fairer than all the pearls of Ormuz, for it was shaped like\nthe full moon, and whiter than the morning star.  But his face was\nstrangely pale, and as he fell upon the deck the blood gushed from his\nears and nostrils.  He quivered for a little, and then he was still.  The\nnegroes shrugged their shoulders, and threw the body overboard.\n\nAnd the master of the galley laughed, and, reaching out, he took the\npearl, and when he saw it he pressed it to his forehead and bowed.  \u2018It\nshall be,\u2019 he said, \u2018for the sceptre of the young King,\u2019 and he made a\nsign to the negroes to draw up the anchor.\n\nAnd when the young King heard this he gave a great cry, and woke, and\nthrough the window he saw the long grey fingers of the dawn clutching at\nthe fading stars.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd he fell asleep again, and dreamed, and this was his dream.\n\nHe thought that he was wandering through a dim wood, hung with strange\nfruits and with beautiful poisonous flowers.  The adders hissed at him as\nhe went by, and the bright parrots flew screaming from branch to branch.\nHuge tortoises lay asleep upon the hot mud.  The trees were full of apes\nand peacocks.\n\nOn and on he went, till he reached the outskirts of the wood, and there\nhe saw an immense multitude of men toiling in the bed of a dried-up\nriver.  They swarmed up the crag like ants.  They dug deep pits in the\nground and went down into them.  Some of them cleft the rocks with great\naxes; others grabbled in the sand.\n\nThey tore up the cactus by its roots, and trampled on the scarlet\nblossoms.  They hurried about, calling to each other, and no man was\nidle.\n\nFrom the darkness of a cavern Death and Avarice watched them, and Death\nsaid, \u2018I am weary; give me a third of them and let me go.\u2019  But Avarice\nshook her head.  \u2018They are my servants,\u2019 she answered.\n\nAnd Death said to her, \u2018What hast thou in thy hand?\u2019\n\n\u2018I have three grains of corn,\u2019 she answered; \u2018what is that to thee?\u2019\n\n\u2018Give me one of them,\u2019 cried Death, \u2018to plant in my garden; only one of\nthem, and I will go away.\u2019\n\n\u2018I will not give thee anything,\u2019 said Avarice, and she hid her hand in\nthe fold of her raiment.\n\nAnd Death laughed, and took a cup, and dipped it into a pool of water,\nand out of the cup rose Ague.  She passed through the great multitude,\nand a third of them lay dead.  A cold mist followed her, and the\nwater-snakes ran by her side.\n\nAnd when Avarice saw that a third of the multitude was dead she beat her\nbreast and wept.  She beat her barren bosom, and cried aloud.  \u2018Thou hast\nslain a third of my servants,\u2019 she cried, \u2018get thee gone.  There is war\nin the mountains of Tartary, and the kings of each side are calling to\nthee.  The Afghans have slain the black ox, and are marching to battle.\nThey have beaten upon their shields with their spears, and have put on\ntheir helmets of iron.  What is my valley to thee, that thou shouldst\ntarry in it?  Get thee gone, and come here no more.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay,\u2019 answered Death, \u2018but till thou hast given me a grain of corn I\nwill not go.\u2019\n\nBut Avarice shut her hand, and clenched her teeth.  \u2018I will not give thee\nanything,\u2019 she muttered.\n\nAnd Death laughed, and took up a black stone, and threw it into the\nforest, and out of a thicket of wild hemlock came Fever in a robe of\nflame.  She passed through the multitude, and touched them, and each man\nthat she touched died.  The grass withered beneath her feet as she\nwalked.\n\nAnd Avarice shuddered, and put ashes on her head.  \u2018Thou art cruel,\u2019 she\ncried; \u2018thou art cruel.  There is famine in the walled cities of India,\nand the cisterns of Samarcand have run dry.  There is famine in the\nwalled cities of Egypt, and the locusts have come up from the desert.\nThe Nile has not overflowed its banks, and the priests have cursed Isis\nand Osiris.  Get thee gone to those who need thee, and leave me my\nservants.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay,\u2019 answered Death, \u2018but till thou hast given me a grain of corn I\nwill not go.\u2019\n\n\u2018I will not give thee anything,\u2019 said Avarice.\n\nAnd Death laughed again, and he whistled through his fingers, and a woman\ncame flying through the air.  Plague was written upon her forehead, and a\ncrowd of lean vultures wheeled round her.  She covered the valley with\nher wings, and no man was left alive.\n\nAnd Avarice fled shrieking through the forest, and Death leaped upon his\nred horse and galloped away, and his galloping was faster than the wind.\n\nAnd out of the slime at the bottom of the valley crept dragons and\nhorrible things with scales, and the jackals came trotting along the\nsand, sniffing up the air with their nostrils.\n\nAnd the young King wept, and said: \u2018Who were these men, and for what were\nthey seeking?\u2019\n\n\u2018For rubies for a king\u2019s crown,\u2019 answered one who stood behind him.\n\nAnd the young King started, and, turning round, he saw a man habited as a\npilgrim and holding in his hand a mirror of silver.\n\nAnd he grew pale, and said: \u2018For what king?\u2019\n\nAnd the pilgrim answered: \u2018Look in this mirror, and thou shalt see him.\u2019\n\nAnd he looked in the mirror, and, seeing his own face, he gave a great\ncry and woke, and the bright sunlight was streaming into the room, and\nfrom the trees of the garden and pleasaunce the birds were singing.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd the Chamberlain and the high officers of State came in and made\nobeisance to him, and the pages brought him the robe of tissued gold, and\nset the crown and the sceptre before him.\n\nAnd the young King looked at them, and they were beautiful.  More\nbeautiful were they than aught that he had ever seen.  But he remembered\nhis dreams, and he said to his lords: \u2018Take these things away, for I will\nnot wear them.\u2019\n\nAnd the courtiers were amazed, and some of them laughed, for they thought\nthat he was jesting.\n\nBut he spake sternly to them again, and said: \u2018Take these things away,\nand hide them from me.  Though it be the day of my coronation, I will not\nwear them.  For on the loom of Sorrow, and by the white hands of Pain,\nhas this my robe been woven.  There is Blood in the heart of the ruby,\nand Death in the heart of the pearl.\u2019  And he told them his three dreams.\n\nAnd when the courtiers heard them they looked at each other and\nwhispered, saying: \u2018Surely he is mad; for what is a dream but a dream,\nand a vision but a vision?  They are not real things that one should heed\nthem.  And what have we to do with the lives of those who toil for us?\nShall a man not eat bread till he has seen the sower, nor drink wine till\nhe has talked with the vinedresser?\u2019\n\nAnd the Chamberlain spake to the young King, and said, \u2018My lord, I pray\nthee set aside these black thoughts of thine, and put on this fair robe,\nand set this crown upon thy head.  For how shall the people know that\nthou art a king, if thou hast not a king\u2019s raiment?\u2019\n\nAnd the young King looked at him.  \u2018Is it so, indeed?\u2019 he questioned.\n\u2018Will they not know me for a king if I have not a king\u2019s raiment?\u2019\n\n\u2018They will not know thee, my lord,\u2019 cried the Chamberlain.\n\n\u2018I had thought that there had been men who were kinglike,\u2019 he answered,\n\u2018but it may be as thou sayest.  And yet I will not wear this robe, nor\nwill I be crowned with this crown, but even as I came to the palace so\nwill I go forth from it.\u2019\n\nAnd he bade them all leave him, save one page whom he kept as his\ncompanion, a lad a year younger than himself.  Him he kept for his\nservice, and when he had bathed himself in clear water, he opened a great\npainted chest, and from it he took the leathern tunic and rough sheepskin\ncloak that he had worn when he had watched on the hillside the shaggy\ngoats of the goatherd.  These he put on, and in his hand he took his rude\nshepherd\u2019s staff.\n\nAnd the little page opened his big blue eyes in wonder, and said smiling\nto him, \u2018My lord, I see thy robe and thy sceptre, but where is thy\ncrown?\u2019\n\nAnd the young King plucked a spray of wild briar that was climbing over\nthe balcony, and bent it, and made a circlet of it, and set it on his own\nhead.\n\n\u2018This shall he my crown,\u2019 he answered.\n\nAnd thus attired he passed out of his chamber into the Great Hall, where\nthe nobles were waiting for him.\n\nAnd the nobles made merry, and some of them cried out to him, \u2018My lord,\nthe people wait for their king, and thou showest them a beggar,\u2019 and\nothers were wroth and said, \u2018He brings shame upon our state, and is\nunworthy to be our master.\u2019  But he answered them not a word, but passed\non, and went down the bright porphyry staircase, and out through the\ngates of bronze, and mounted upon his horse, and rode towards the\ncathedral, the little page running beside him.\n\nAnd the people laughed and said, \u2018It is the King\u2019s fool who is riding\nby,\u2019 and they mocked him.\n\nAnd he drew rein and said, \u2018Nay, but I am the King.\u2019  And he told them\nhis three dreams.\n\nAnd a man came out of the crowd and spake bitterly to him, and said,\n\u2018Sir, knowest thou not that out of the luxury of the rich cometh the life\nof the poor?  By your pomp we are nurtured, and your vices give us bread.\nTo toil for a hard master is bitter, but to have no master to toil for is\nmore bitter still.  Thinkest thou that the ravens will feed us?  And what\ncure hast thou for these things?  Wilt thou say to the buyer, \u201cThou shalt\nbuy for so much,\u201d and to the seller, \u201cThou shalt sell at this price\u201d?  I\ntrow not.  Therefore go back to thy Palace and put on thy purple and fine\nlinen.  What hast thou to do with us, and what we suffer?\u2019\n\n\u2018Are not the rich and the poor brothers?\u2019 asked the young King.\n\n\u2018Ay,\u2019 answered the man, \u2018and the name of the rich brother is Cain.\u2019\n\nAnd the young King\u2019s eyes filled with tears, and he rode on through the\nmurmurs of the people, and the little page grew afraid and left him.\n\nAnd when he reached the great portal of the cathedral, the soldiers\nthrust their halberts out and said, \u2018What dost thou seek here?  None\nenters by this door but the King.\u2019\n\nAnd his face flushed with anger, and he said to them, \u2018I am the King,\u2019\nand waved their halberts aside and passed in.\n\nAnd when the old Bishop saw him coming in his goatherd\u2019s dress, he rose\nup in wonder from his throne, and went to meet him, and said to him, \u2018My\nson, is this a king\u2019s apparel?  And with what crown shall I crown thee,\nand what sceptre shall I place in thy hand?  Surely this should be to\nthee a day of joy, and not a day of abasement.\u2019\n\n\u2018Shall Joy wear what Grief has fashioned?\u2019 said the young King.  And he\ntold him his three dreams.\n\nAnd when the Bishop had heard them he knit his brows, and said, \u2018My son,\nI am an old man, and in the winter of my days, and I know that many evil\nthings are done in the wide world.  The fierce robbers come down from the\nmountains, and carry off the little children, and sell them to the Moors.\nThe lions lie in wait for the caravans, and leap upon the camels.  The\nwild boar roots up the corn in the valley, and the foxes gnaw the vines\nupon the hill.  The pirates lay waste the sea-coast and burn the ships of\nthe fishermen, and take their nets from them.  In the salt-marshes live\nthe lepers; they have houses of wattled reeds, and none may come nigh\nthem.  The beggars wander through the cities, and eat their food with the\ndogs.  Canst thou make these things not to be?  Wilt thou take the leper\nfor thy bedfellow, and set the beggar at thy board?  Shall the lion do\nthy bidding, and the wild boar obey thee?  Is not He who made misery\nwiser than thou art?  Wherefore I praise thee not for this that thou hast\ndone, but I bid thee ride back to the Palace and make thy face glad, and\nput on the raiment that beseemeth a king, and with the crown of gold I\nwill crown thee, and the sceptre of pearl will I place in thy hand.  And\nas for thy dreams, think no more of them.  The burden of this world is\ntoo great for one man to bear, and the world\u2019s sorrow too heavy for one\nheart to suffer.\u2019\n\n\u2018Sayest thou that in this house?\u2019 said the young King, and he strode past\nthe Bishop, and climbed up the steps of the altar, and stood before the\nimage of Christ.\n\nHe stood before the image of Christ, and on his right hand and on his\nleft were the marvellous vessels of gold, the chalice with the yellow\nwine, and the vial with the holy oil.  He knelt before the image of\nChrist, and the great candles burned brightly by the jewelled shrine, and\nthe smoke of the incense curled in thin blue wreaths through the dome.\nHe bowed his head in prayer, and the priests in their stiff copes crept\naway from the altar.\n\nAnd suddenly a wild tumult came from the street outside, and in entered\nthe nobles with drawn swords and nodding plumes, and shields of polished\nsteel.  \u2018Where is this dreamer of dreams?\u2019 they cried.  \u2018Where is this\nKing who is apparelled like a beggar\u2014this boy who brings shame upon our\nstate?  Surely we will slay him, for he is unworthy to rule over us.\u2019\n\nAnd the young King bowed his head again, and prayed, and when he had\nfinished his prayer he rose up, and turning round he looked at them\nsadly.\n\nAnd lo! through the painted windows came the sunlight streaming upon him,\nand the sun-beams wove round him a tissued robe that was fairer than the\nrobe that had been fashioned for his pleasure.  The dead staff blossomed,\nand bare lilies that were whiter than pearls.  The dry thorn blossomed,\nand bare roses that were redder than rubies.  Whiter than fine pearls\nwere the lilies, and their stems were of bright silver.  Redder than male\nrubies were the roses, and their leaves were of beaten gold.\n\nHe stood there in the raiment of a king, and the gates of the jewelled\nshrine flew open, and from the crystal of the many-rayed monstrance shone\na marvellous and mystical light.  He stood there in a king\u2019s raiment, and\nthe Glory of God filled the place, and the saints in their carven niches\nseemed to move.  In the fair raiment of a king he stood before them, and\nthe organ pealed out its music, and the trumpeters blew upon their\ntrumpets, and the singing boys sang.\n\nAnd the people fell upon their knees in awe, and the nobles sheathed\ntheir swords and did homage, and the Bishop\u2019s face grew pale, and his\nhands trembled.  \u2018A greater than I hath crowned thee,\u2019 he cried, and he\nknelt before him.\n\nAnd the young King came down from the high altar, and passed home through\nthe midst of the people.  But no man dared look upon his face, for it was\nlike the face of an angel.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA\n\n\n                                    TO\n                         MRS. WILLIAM H. GRENFELL\n                             OF TAPLOW COURT\n                            [LADY DESBOROUGH]\n\nIT was the birthday of the Infanta.  She was just twelve years of age,\nand the sun was shining brightly in the gardens of the palace.\n\nAlthough she was a real Princess and the Infanta of Spain, she had only\none birthday every year, just like the children of quite poor people, so\nit was naturally a matter of great importance to the whole country that\nshe should have a really fine day for the occasion.  And a really fine\nday it certainly was.  The tall striped tulips stood straight up upon\ntheir stalks, like long rows of soldiers, and looked defiantly across the\ngrass at the roses, and said: \u2018We are quite as splendid as you are now.\u2019\nThe purple butterflies fluttered about with gold dust on their wings,\nvisiting each flower in turn; the little lizards crept out of the\ncrevices of the wall, and lay basking in the white glare; and the\npomegranates split and cracked with the heat, and showed their bleeding\nred hearts.  Even the pale yellow lemons, that hung in such profusion\nfrom the mouldering trellis and along the dim arcades, seemed to have\ncaught a richer colour from the wonderful sunlight, and the magnolia\ntrees opened their great globe-like blossoms of folded ivory, and filled\nthe air with a sweet heavy perfume.\n\nThe little Princess herself walked up and down the terrace with her\ncompanions, and played at hide and seek round the stone vases and the old\nmoss-grown statues.  On ordinary days she was only allowed to play with\nchildren of her own rank, so she had always to play alone, but her\nbirthday was an exception, and the King had given orders that she was to\ninvite any of her young friends whom she liked to come and amuse\nthemselves with her.  There was a stately grace about these slim Spanish\nchildren as they glided about, the boys with their large-plumed hats and\nshort fluttering cloaks, the girls holding up the trains of their long\nbrocaded gowns, and shielding the sun from their eyes with huge fans of\nblack and silver.  But the Infanta was the most graceful of all, and the\nmost tastefully attired, after the somewhat cumbrous fashion of the day.\nHer robe was of grey satin, the skirt and the wide puffed sleeves heavily\nembroidered with silver, and the stiff corset studded with rows of fine\npearls.  Two tiny slippers with big pink rosettes peeped out beneath her\ndress as she walked.  Pink and pearl was her great gauze fan, and in her\nhair, which like an aureole of faded gold stood out stiffly round her\npale little face, she had a beautiful white rose.\n\nFrom a window in the palace the sad melancholy King watched them.  Behind\nhim stood his brother, Don Pedro of Aragon, whom he hated, and his\nconfessor, the Grand Inquisitor of Granada, sat by his side.  Sadder even\nthan usual was the King, for as he looked at the Infanta bowing with\nchildish gravity to the assembling counters, or laughing behind her fan\nat the grim Duchess of Albuquerque who always accompanied her, he thought\nof the young Queen, her mother, who but a short time before\u2014so it seemed\nto him\u2014had come from the gay country of France, and had withered away in\nthe sombre splendour of the Spanish court, dying just six months after\nthe birth of her child, and before she had seen the almonds blossom twice\nin the orchard, or plucked the second year\u2019s fruit from the old gnarled\nfig-tree that stood in the centre of the now grass-grown courtyard.  So\ngreat had been his love for her that he had not suffered even the grave\nto hide her from him.  She had been embalmed by a Moorish physician, who\nin return for this service had been granted his life, which for heresy\nand suspicion of magical practices had been already forfeited, men said,\nto the Holy Office, and her body was still lying on its tapestried bier\nin the black marble chapel of the Palace, just as the monks had borne her\nin on that windy March day nearly twelve years before.  Once every month\nthe King, wrapped in a dark cloak and with a muffled lantern in his hand,\nwent in and knelt by her side calling out, \u2018_Mi reina_!  _Mi reina_!\u2019 and\nsometimes breaking through the formal etiquette that in Spain governs\nevery separate action of life, and sets limits even to the sorrow of a\nKing, he would clutch at the pale jewelled hands in a wild agony of\ngrief, and try to wake by his mad kisses the cold painted face.\n\nTo-day he seemed to see her again, as he had seen her first at the Castle\nof Fontainebleau, when he was but fifteen years of age, and she still\nyounger.  They had been formally betrothed on that occasion by the Papal\nNuncio in the presence of the French King and all the Court, and he had\nreturned to the Escurial bearing with him a little ringlet of yellow\nhair, and the memory of two childish lips bending down to kiss his hand\nas he stepped into his carriage.  Later on had followed the marriage,\nhastily performed at Burgos, a small town on the frontier between the two\ncountries, and the grand public entry into Madrid with the customary\ncelebration of high mass at the Church of La Atocha, and a more than\nusually solemn _auto-da-f\u00e9_, in which nearly three hundred heretics,\namongst whom were many Englishmen, had been delivered over to the secular\narm to be burned.\n\nCertainly he had loved her madly, and to the ruin, many thought, of his\ncountry, then at war with England for the possession of the empire of the\nNew World.  He had hardly ever permitted her to be out of his sight; for\nher, he had forgotten, or seemed to have forgotten, all grave affairs of\nState; and, with that terrible blindness that passion brings upon its\nservants, he had failed to notice that the elaborate ceremonies by which\nhe sought to please her did but aggravate the strange malady from which\nshe suffered.  When she died he was, for a time, like one bereft of\nreason.  Indeed, there is no doubt but that he would have formally\nabdicated and retired to the great Trappist monastery at Granada, of\nwhich he was already titular Prior, had he not been afraid to leave the\nlittle Infanta at the mercy of his brother, whose cruelty, even in Spain,\nwas notorious, and who was suspected by many of having caused the Queen\u2019s\ndeath by means of a pair of poisoned gloves that he had presented to her\non the occasion of her visiting his castle in Aragon.  Even after the\nexpiration of the three years of public mourning that he had ordained\nthroughout his whole dominions by royal edict, he would never suffer his\nministers to speak about any new alliance, and when the Emperor himself\nsent to him, and offered him the hand of the lovely Archduchess of\nBohemia, his niece, in marriage, he bade the ambassadors tell their\nmaster that the King of Spain was already wedded to Sorrow, and that\nthough she was but a barren bride he loved her better than Beauty; an\nanswer that cost his crown the rich provinces of the Netherlands, which\nsoon after, at the Emperor\u2019s instigation, revolted against him under the\nleadership of some fanatics of the Reformed Church.\n\nHis whole married life, with its fierce, fiery-coloured joys and the\nterrible agony of its sudden ending, seemed to come back to him to-day as\nhe watched the Infanta playing on the terrace.  She had all the Queen\u2019s\npretty petulance of manner, the same wilful way of tossing her head, the\nsame proud curved beautiful mouth, the same wonderful smile\u2014_vrai sourire\nde France_ indeed\u2014as she glanced up now and then at the window, or\nstretched out her little hand for the stately Spanish gentlemen to kiss.\nBut the shrill laughter of the children grated on his ears, and the\nbright pitiless sunlight mocked his sorrow, and a dull odour of strange\nspices, spices such as embalmers use, seemed to taint\u2014or was it\nfancy?\u2014the clear morning air.  He buried his face in his hands, and when\nthe Infanta looked up again the curtains had been drawn, and the King had\nretired.\n\nShe made a little _moue_ of disappointment, and shrugged her shoulders.\nSurely he might have stayed with her on her birthday.  What did the\nstupid State-affairs matter?  Or had he gone to that gloomy chapel, where\nthe candles were always burning, and where she was never allowed to\nenter?  How silly of him, when the sun was shining so brightly, and\neverybody was so happy!  Besides, he would miss the sham bull-fight for\nwhich the trumpet was already sounding, to say nothing of the puppet-show\nand the other wonderful things.  Her uncle and the Grand Inquisitor were\nmuch more sensible.  They had come out on the terrace, and paid her nice\ncompliments.  So she tossed her pretty head, and taking Don Pedro by the\nhand, she walked slowly down the steps towards a long pavilion of purple\nsilk that had been erected at the end of the garden, the other children\nfollowing in strict order of precedence, those who had the longest names\ngoing first.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nA procession of noble boys, fantastically dressed as _toreadors_, came\nout to meet her, and the young Count of Tierra-Nueva, a wonderfully\nhandsome lad of about fourteen years of age, uncovering his head with all\nthe grace of a born hidalgo and grandee of Spain, led her solemnly in to\na little gilt and ivory chair that was placed on a raised dais above the\narena.  The children grouped themselves all round, fluttering their big\nfans and whispering to each other, and Don Pedro and the Grand Inquisitor\nstood laughing at the entrance.  Even the Duchess\u2014the Camerera-Mayor as\nshe was called\u2014a thin, hard-featured woman with a yellow ruff, did not\nlook quite so bad-tempered as usual, and something like a chill smile\nflitted across her wrinkled face and twitched her thin bloodless lips.\n\nIt certainly was a marvellous bull-fight, and much nicer, the Infanta\nthought, than the real bull-fight that she had been brought to see at\nSeville, on the occasion of the visit of the Duke of Parma to her father.\nSome of the boys pranced about on richly-caparisoned hobby-horses\nbrandishing long javelins with gay streamers of bright ribands attached\nto them; others went on foot waving their scarlet cloaks before the bull,\nand vaulting lightly over the barrier when he charged them; and as for\nthe bull himself, he was just like a live bull, though he was only made\nof wicker-work and stretched hide, and sometimes insisted on running\nround the arena on his hind legs, which no live bull ever dreams of\ndoing.  He made a splendid fight of it too, and the children got so\nexcited that they stood up upon the benches, and waved their lace\nhandkerchiefs and cried out: _Bravo toro_!  _Bravo toro_! just as\nsensibly as if they had been grown-up people.  At last, however, after a\nprolonged combat, during which several of the hobby-horses were gored\nthrough and through, and, their riders dismounted, the young Count of\nTierra-Nueva brought the bull to his knees, and having obtained\npermission from the Infanta to give the _coup de gr\u00e2ce_, he plunged his\nwooden sword into the neck of the animal with such violence that the head\ncame right off, and disclosed the laughing face of little Monsieur de\nLorraine, the son of the French Ambassador at Madrid.\n\nThe arena was then cleared amidst much applause, and the dead\nhobby-horses dragged solemnly away by two Moorish pages in yellow and\nblack liveries, and after a short interlude, during which a French\nposture-master performed upon the tightrope, some Italian puppets\nappeared in the semi-classical tragedy of _Sophonisba_ on the stage of a\nsmall theatre that had been built up for the purpose.  They acted so\nwell, and their gestures were so extremely natural, that at the close of\nthe play the eyes of the Infanta were quite dim with tears.  Indeed some\nof the children really cried, and had to be comforted with sweetmeats,\nand the Grand Inquisitor himself was so affected that he could not help\nsaying to Don Pedro that it seemed to him intolerable that things made\nsimply out of wood and coloured wax, and worked mechanically by wires,\nshould be so unhappy and meet with such terrible misfortunes.\n\nAn African juggler followed, who brought in a large flat basket covered\nwith a red cloth, and having placed it in the centre of the arena, he\ntook from his turban a curious reed pipe, and blew through it.  In a few\nmoments the cloth began to move, and as the pipe grew shriller and\nshriller two green and gold snakes put out their strange wedge-shaped\nheads and rose slowly up, swaying to and fro with the music as a plant\nsways in the water.  The children, however, were rather frightened at\ntheir spotted hoods and quick darting tongues, and were much more pleased\nwhen the juggler made a tiny orange-tree grow out of the sand and bear\npretty white blossoms and clusters of real fruit; and when he took the\nfan of the little daughter of the Marquess de Las-Torres, and changed it\ninto a blue bird that flew all round the pavilion and sang, their delight\nand amazement knew no bounds.  The solemn minuet, too, performed by the\ndancing boys from the church of Nuestra Senora Del Pilar, was charming.\nThe Infanta had never before seen this wonderful ceremony which takes\nplace every year at Maytime in front of the high altar of the Virgin, and\nin her honour; and indeed none of the royal family of Spain had entered\nthe great cathedral of Saragossa since a mad priest, supposed by many to\nhave been in the pay of Elizabeth of England, had tried to administer a\npoisoned wafer to the Prince of the Asturias.  So she had known only by\nhearsay of \u2018Our Lady\u2019s Dance,\u2019 as it was called, and it certainly was a\nbeautiful sight.  The boys wore old-fashioned court dresses of white\nvelvet, and their curious three-cornered hats were fringed with silver\nand surmounted with huge plumes of ostrich feathers, the dazzling\nwhiteness of their costumes, as they moved about in the sunlight, being\nstill more accentuated by their swarthy faces and long black hair.\nEverybody was fascinated by the grave dignity with which they moved\nthrough the intricate figures of the dance, and by the elaborate grace of\ntheir slow gestures, and stately bows, and when they had finished their\nperformance and doffed their great plumed hats to the Infanta, she\nacknowledged their reverence with much courtesy, and made a vow that she\nwould send a large wax candle to the shrine of Our Lady of Pilar in\nreturn for the pleasure that she had given her.\n\nA troop of handsome Egyptians\u2014as the gipsies were termed in those\ndays\u2014then advanced into the arena, and sitting down cross-legs, in a\ncircle, began to play softly upon their zithers, moving their bodies to\nthe tune, and humming, almost below their breath, a low dreamy air.  When\nthey caught sight of Don Pedro they scowled at him, and some of them\nlooked terrified, for only a few weeks before he had had two of their\ntribe hanged for sorcery in the market-place at Seville, but the pretty\nInfanta charmed them as she leaned back peeping over her fan with her\ngreat blue eyes, and they felt sure that one so lovely as she was could\nnever be cruel to anybody.  So they played on very gently and just\ntouching the cords of the zithers with their long pointed nails, and\ntheir heads began to nod as though they were falling asleep.  Suddenly,\nwith a cry so shrill that all the children were startled and Don Pedro\u2019s\nhand clutched at the agate pommel of his dagger, they leapt to their feet\nand whirled madly round the enclosure beating their tambourines, and\nchaunting some wild love-song in their strange guttural language.  Then\nat another signal they all flung themselves again to the ground and lay\nthere quite still, the dull strumming of the zithers being the only sound\nthat broke the silence.  After that they had done this several times,\nthey disappeared for a moment and came back leading a brown shaggy bear\nby a chain, and carrying on their shoulders some little Barbary apes.\nThe bear stood upon his head with the utmost gravity, and the wizened\napes played all kinds of amusing tricks with two gipsy boys who seemed to\nbe their masters, and fought with tiny swords, and fired off guns, and\nwent through a regular soldier\u2019s drill just like the King\u2019s own\nbodyguard.  In fact the gipsies were a great success.\n\nBut the funniest part of the whole morning\u2019s entertainment, was\nundoubtedly the dancing of the little Dwarf.  When he stumbled into the\narena, waddling on his crooked legs and wagging his huge misshapen head\nfrom side to side, the children went off into a loud shout of delight,\nand the Infanta herself laughed so much that the Camerera was obliged to\nremind her that although there were many precedents in Spain for a King\u2019s\ndaughter weeping before her equals, there were none for a Princess of the\nblood royal making so merry before those who were her inferiors in birth.\nThe Dwarf, however, was really quite irresistible, and even at the\nSpanish Court, always noted for its cultivated passion for the horrible,\nso fantastic a little monster had never been seen.  It was his first\nappearance, too.  He had been discovered only the day before, running\nwild through the forest, by two of the nobles who happened to have been\nhunting in a remote part of the great cork-wood that surrounded the town,\nand had been carried off by them to the Palace as a surprise for the\nInfanta; his father, who was a poor charcoal-burner, being but too well\npleased to get rid of so ugly and useless a child.  Perhaps the most\namusing thing about him was his complete unconsciousness of his own\ngrotesque appearance.  Indeed he seemed quite happy and full of the\nhighest spirits.  When the children laughed, he laughed as freely and as\njoyously as any of them, and at the close of each dance he made them each\nthe funniest of bows, smiling and nodding at them just as if he was\nreally one of themselves, and not a little misshapen thing that Nature,\nin some humourous mood, had fashioned for others to mock at.  As for the\nInfanta, she absolutely fascinated him.  He could not keep his eyes off\nher, and seemed to dance for her alone, and when at the close of the\nperformance, remembering how she had seen the great ladies of the Court\nthrow bouquets to Caffarelli, the famous Italian treble, whom the Pope\nhad sent from his own chapel to Madrid that he might cure the King\u2019s\nmelancholy by the sweetness of his voice, she took out of her hair the\nbeautiful white rose, and partly for a jest and partly to tease the\nCamerera, threw it to him across the arena with her sweetest smile, he\ntook the whole matter quite seriously, and pressing the flower to his\nrough coarse lips he put his hand upon his heart, and sank on one knee\nbefore her, grinning from ear to ear, and with his little bright eyes\nsparkling with pleasure.\n\nThis so upset the gravity of the Infanta that she kept on laughing long\nafter the little Dwarf had ran out of the arena, and expressed a desire\nto her uncle that the dance should be immediately repeated.  The\nCamerera, however, on the plea that the sun was too hot, decided that it\nwould be better that her Highness should return without delay to the\nPalace, where a wonderful feast had been already prepared for her,\nincluding a real birthday cake with her own initials worked all over it\nin painted sugar and a lovely silver flag waving from the top.  The\nInfanta accordingly rose up with much dignity, and having given orders\nthat the little dwarf was to dance again for her after the hour of\nsiesta, and conveyed her thanks to the young Count of Tierra-Nueva for\nhis charming reception, she went back to her apartments, the children\nfollowing in the same order in which they had entered.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nNow when the little Dwarf heard that he was to dance a second time before\nthe Infanta, and by her own express command, he was so proud that he ran\nout into the garden, kissing the white rose in an absurd ecstasy of\npleasure, and making the most uncouth and clumsy gestures of delight.\n\nThe Flowers were quite indignant at his daring to intrude into their\nbeautiful home, and when they saw him capering up and down the walks, and\nwaving his arms above his head in such a ridiculous manner, they could\nnot restrain their feelings any longer.\n\n\u2018He is really far too ugly to be allowed to play in any place where we\nare,\u2019 cried the Tulips.\n\n\u2018He should drink poppy-juice, and go to sleep for a thousand years,\u2019 said\nthe great scarlet Lilies, and they grew quite hot and angry.\n\n\u2018He is a perfect horror!\u2019 screamed the Cactus.  \u2018Why, he is twisted and\nstumpy, and his head is completely out of proportion with his legs.\nReally he makes me feel prickly all over, and if he comes near me I will\nsting him with my thorns.\u2019\n\n\u2018And he has actually got one of my best blooms,\u2019 exclaimed the White\nRose-Tree.  \u2018I gave it to the Infanta this morning myself, as a birthday\npresent, and he has stolen it from her.\u2019  And she called out: \u2018Thief,\nthief, thief!\u2019 at the top of her voice.\n\nEven the red Geraniums, who did not usually give themselves airs, and\nwere known to have a great many poor relations themselves, curled up in\ndisgust when they saw him, and when the Violets meekly remarked that\nthough he was certainly extremely plain, still he could not help it, they\nretorted with a good deal of justice that that was his chief defect, and\nthat there was no reason why one should admire a person because he was\nincurable; and, indeed, some of the Violets themselves felt that the\nugliness of the little Dwarf was almost ostentatious, and that he would\nhave shown much better taste if he had looked sad, or at least pensive,\ninstead of jumping about merrily, and throwing himself into such\ngrotesque and silly attitudes.\n\nAs for the old Sundial, who was an extremely remarkable individual, and\nhad once told the time of day to no less a person than the Emperor\nCharles V. himself, he was so taken aback by the little Dwarf\u2019s\nappearance, that he almost forgot to mark two whole minutes with his long\nshadowy finger, and could not help saying to the great milk-white\nPeacock, who was sunning herself on the balustrade, that every one knew\nthat the children of Kings were Kings, and that the children of\ncharcoal-burners were charcoal-burners, and that it was absurd to pretend\nthat it wasn\u2019t so; a statement with which the Peacock entirely agreed,\nand indeed screamed out, \u2018Certainly, certainly,\u2019 in such a loud, harsh\nvoice, that the gold-fish who lived in the basin of the cool splashing\nfountain put their heads out of the water, and asked the huge stone\nTritons what on earth was the matter.\n\nBut somehow the Birds liked him.  They had seen him often in the forest,\ndancing about like an elf after the eddying leaves, or crouched up in the\nhollow of some old oak-tree, sharing his nuts with the squirrels.  They\ndid not mind his being ugly, a bit.  Why, even the nightingale herself,\nwho sang so sweetly in the orange groves at night that sometimes the Moon\nleaned down to listen, was not much to look at after all; and, besides,\nhe had been kind to them, and during that terribly bitter winter, when\nthere were no berries on the trees, and the ground was as hard as iron,\nand the wolves had come down to the very gates of the city to look for\nfood, he had never once forgotten them, but had always given them crumbs\nout of his little hunch of black bread, and divided with them whatever\npoor breakfast he had.\n\nSo they flew round and round him, just touching his cheek with their\nwings as they passed, and chattered to each other, and the little Dwarf\nwas so pleased that he could not help showing them the beautiful white\nrose, and telling them that the Infanta herself had given it to him\nbecause she loved him.\n\nThey did not understand a single word of what he was saying, but that\nmade no matter, for they put their heads on one side, and looked wise,\nwhich is quite as good as understanding a thing, and very much easier.\n\nThe Lizards also took an immense fancy to him, and when he grew tired of\nrunning about and flung himself down on the grass to rest, they played\nand romped all over him, and tried to amuse him in the best way they\ncould.  \u2018Every one cannot be as beautiful as a lizard,\u2019 they cried; \u2018that\nwould be too much to expect.  And, though it sounds absurd to say so, he\nis really not so ugly after all, provided, of course, that one shuts\none\u2019s eyes, and does not look at him.\u2019  The Lizards were extremely\nphilosophical by nature, and often sat thinking for hours and hours\ntogether, when there was nothing else to do, or when the weather was too\nrainy for them to go out.\n\nThe Flowers, however, were excessively annoyed at their behaviour, and at\nthe behaviour of the birds.  \u2018It only shows,\u2019 they said, \u2018what a\nvulgarising effect this incessant rushing and flying about has.\nWell-bred people always stay exactly in the same place, as we do.  No one\never saw us hopping up and down the walks, or galloping madly through the\ngrass after dragon-flies.  When we do want change of air, we send for the\ngardener, and he carries us to another bed.  This is dignified, and as it\nshould be.  But birds and lizards have no sense of repose, and indeed\nbirds have not even a permanent address.  They are mere vagrants like the\ngipsies, and should be treated in exactly the same manner.\u2019  So they put\ntheir noses in the air, and looked very haughty, and were quite delighted\nwhen after some time they saw the little Dwarf scramble up from the\ngrass, and make his way across the terrace to the palace.\n\n\u2018He should certainly be kept indoors for the rest of his natural life,\u2019\nthey said.  \u2018Look at his hunched back, and his crooked legs,\u2019 and they\nbegan to titter.\n\nBut the little Dwarf knew nothing of all this.  He liked the birds and\nthe lizards immensely, and thought that the flowers were the most\nmarvellous things in the whole world, except of course the Infanta, but\nthen she had given him the beautiful white rose, and she loved him, and\nthat made a great difference.  How he wished that he had gone back with\nher!  She would have put him on her right hand, and smiled at him, and he\nwould have never left her side, but would have made her his playmate, and\ntaught her all kinds of delightful tricks.  For though he had never been\nin a palace before, he knew a great many wonderful things.  He could make\nlittle cages out of rushes for the grasshoppers to sing in, and fashion\nthe long jointed bamboo into the pipe that Pan loves to hear.  He knew\nthe cry of every bird, and could call the starlings from the tree-top, or\nthe heron from the mere.  He knew the trail of every animal, and could\ntrack the hare by its delicate footprints, and the boar by the trampled\nleaves.  All the wild-dances he knew, the mad dance in red raiment with\nthe autumn, the light dance in blue sandals over the corn, the dance with\nwhite snow-wreaths in winter, and the blossom-dance through the orchards\nin spring.  He knew where the wood-pigeons built their nests, and once\nwhen a fowler had snared the parent birds, he had brought up the young\nones himself, and had built a little dovecot for them in the cleft of a\npollard elm.  They were quite tame, and used to feed out of his hands\nevery morning.  She would like them, and the rabbits that scurried about\nin the long fern, and the jays with their steely feathers and black\nbills, and the hedgehogs that could curl themselves up into prickly\nballs, and the great wise tortoises that crawled slowly about, shaking\ntheir heads and nibbling at the young leaves.  Yes, she must certainly\ncome to the forest and play with him.  He would give her his own little\nbed, and would watch outside the window till dawn, to see that the wild\nhorned cattle did not harm her, nor the gaunt wolves creep too near the\nhut.  And at dawn he would tap at the shutters and wake her, and they\nwould go out and dance together all the day long.  It was really not a\nbit lonely in the forest.  Sometimes a Bishop rode through on his white\nmule, reading out of a painted book.  Sometimes in their green velvet\ncaps, and their jerkins of tanned deerskin, the falconers passed by, with\nhooded hawks on their wrists.  At vintage-time came the grape-treaders,\nwith purple hands and feet, wreathed with glossy ivy and carrying\ndripping skins of wine; and the charcoal-burners sat round their huge\nbraziers at night, watching the dry logs charring slowly in the fire, and\nroasting chestnuts in the ashes, and the robbers came out of their caves\nand made merry with them.  Once, too, he had seen a beautiful procession\nwinding up the long dusty road to Toledo.  The monks went in front\nsinging sweetly, and carrying bright banners and crosses of gold, and\nthen, in silver armour, with matchlocks and pikes, came the soldiers, and\nin their midst walked three barefooted men, in strange yellow dresses\npainted all over with wonderful figures, and carrying lighted candles in\ntheir hands.  Certainly there was a great deal to look at in the forest,\nand when she was tired he would find a soft bank of moss for her, or\ncarry her in his arms, for he was very strong, though he knew that he was\nnot tall.  He would make her a necklace of red bryony berries, that would\nbe quite as pretty as the white berries that she wore on her dress, and\nwhen she was tired of them, she could throw them away, and he would find\nher others.  He would bring her acorn-cups and dew-drenched anemones, and\ntiny glow-worms to be stars in the pale gold of her hair.\n\nBut where was she?  He asked the white rose, and it made him no answer.\nThe whole palace seemed asleep, and even where the shutters had not been\nclosed, heavy curtains had been drawn across the windows to keep out the\nglare.  He wandered all round looking for some place through which he\nmight gain an entrance, and at last he caught sight of a little private\ndoor that was lying open.  He slipped through, and found himself in a\nsplendid hall, far more splendid, he feared, than the forest, there was\nso much more gilding everywhere, and even the floor was made of great\ncoloured stones, fitted together into a sort of geometrical pattern.  But\nthe little Infanta was not there, only some wonderful white statues that\nlooked down on him from their jasper pedestals, with sad blank eyes and\nstrangely smiling lips.\n\nAt the end of the hall hung a richly embroidered curtain of black velvet,\npowdered with suns and stars, the King\u2019s favourite devices, and broidered\non the colour he loved best.  Perhaps she was hiding behind that?  He\nwould try at any rate.\n\nSo he stole quietly across, and drew it aside.  No; there was only\nanother room, though a prettier room, he thought, than the one he had\njust left.  The walls were hung with a many-figured green arras of\nneedle-wrought tapestry representing a hunt, the work of some Flemish\nartists who had spent more than seven years in its composition.  It had\nonce been the chamber of _Jean le Fou_, as he was called, that mad King\nwho was so enamoured of the chase, that he had often tried in his\ndelirium to mount the huge rearing horses, and to drag down the stag on\nwhich the great hounds were leaping, sounding his hunting horn, and\nstabbing with his dagger at the pale flying deer.  It was now used as the\ncouncil-room, and on the centre table were lying the red portfolios of\nthe ministers, stamped with the gold tulips of Spain, and with the arms\nand emblems of the house of Hapsburg.\n\nThe little Dwarf looked in wonder all round him, and was half-afraid to\ngo on.  The strange silent horsemen that galloped so swiftly through the\nlong glades without making any noise, seemed to him like those terrible\nphantoms of whom he had heard the charcoal-burners speaking\u2014the\nComprachos, who hunt only at night, and if they meet a man, turn him into\na hind, and chase him.  But he thought of the pretty Infanta, and took\ncourage.  He wanted to find her alone, and to tell her that he too loved\nher.  Perhaps she was in the room beyond.\n\nHe ran across the soft Moorish carpets, and opened the door.  No!  She\nwas not here either.  The room was quite empty.\n\nIt was a throne-room, used for the reception of foreign ambassadors, when\nthe King, which of late had not been often, consented to give them a\npersonal audience; the same room in which, many years before, envoys had\nappeared from England to make arrangements for the marriage of their\nQueen, then one of the Catholic sovereigns of Europe, with the Emperor\u2019s\neldest son.  The hangings were of gilt Cordovan leather, and a heavy gilt\nchandelier with branches for three hundred wax lights hung down from the\nblack and white ceiling.  Underneath a great canopy of gold cloth, on\nwhich the lions and towers of Castile were broidered in seed pearls,\nstood the throne itself, covered with a rich pall of black velvet studded\nwith silver tulips and elaborately fringed with silver and pearls.  On\nthe second step of the throne was placed the kneeling-stool of the\nInfanta, with its cushion of cloth of silver tissue, and below that\nagain, and beyond the limit of the canopy, stood the chair for the Papal\nNuncio, who alone had the right to be seated in the King\u2019s presence on\nthe occasion of any public ceremonial, and whose Cardinal\u2019s hat, with its\ntangled scarlet tassels, lay on a purple _tabouret_ in front.  On the\nwall, facing the throne, hung a life-sized portrait of Charles V. in\nhunting dress, with a great mastiff by his side, and a picture of Philip\nII. receiving the homage of the Netherlands occupied the centre of the\nother wall.  Between the windows stood a black ebony cabinet, inlaid with\nplates of ivory, on which the figures from Holbein\u2019s Dance of Death had\nbeen graved\u2014by the hand, some said, of that famous master himself.\n\nBut the little Dwarf cared nothing for all this magnificence.  He would\nnot have given his rose for all the pearls on the canopy, nor one white\npetal of his rose for the throne itself.  What he wanted was to see the\nInfanta before she went down to the pavilion, and to ask her to come away\nwith him when he had finished his dance.  Here, in the Palace, the air\nwas close and heavy, but in the forest the wind blew free, and the\nsunlight with wandering hands of gold moved the tremulous leaves aside.\nThere were flowers, too, in the forest, not so splendid, perhaps, as the\nflowers in the garden, but more sweetly scented for all that; hyacinths\nin early spring that flooded with waving purple the cool glens, and\ngrassy knolls; yellow primroses that nestled in little clumps round the\ngnarled roots of the oak-trees; bright celandine, and blue speedwell, and\nirises lilac and gold.  There were grey catkins on the hazels, and the\nfoxgloves drooped with the weight of their dappled bee-haunted cells.\nThe chestnut had its spires of white stars, and the hawthorn its pallid\nmoons of beauty.  Yes: surely she would come if he could only find her!\nShe would come with him to the fair forest, and all day long he would\ndance for her delight.  A smile lit up his eyes at the thought, and he\npassed into the next room.\n\nOf all the rooms this was the brightest and the most beautiful.  The\nwalls were covered with a pink-flowered Lucca damask, patterned with\nbirds and dotted with dainty blossoms of silver; the furniture was of\nmassive silver, festooned with florid wreaths, and swinging Cupids; in\nfront of the two large fire-places stood great screens broidered with\nparrots and peacocks, and the floor, which was of sea-green onyx, seemed\nto stretch far away into the distance.  Nor was he alone.  Standing under\nthe shadow of the doorway, at the extreme end of the room, he saw a\nlittle figure watching him.  His heart trembled, a cry of joy broke from\nhis lips, and he moved out into the sunlight.  As he did so, the figure\nmoved out also, and he saw it plainly.\n\nThe Infanta!  It was a monster, the most grotesque monster he had ever\nbeheld.  Not properly shaped, as all other people were, but hunchbacked,\nand crooked-limbed, with huge lolling head and mane of black hair.  The\nlittle Dwarf frowned, and the monster frowned also.  He laughed, and it\nlaughed with him, and held its hands to its sides, just as he himself was\ndoing.  He made it a mocking bow, and it returned him a low reverence.\nHe went towards it, and it came to meet him, copying each step that he\nmade, and stopping when he stopped himself.  He shouted with amusement,\nand ran forward, and reached out his hand, and the hand of the monster\ntouched his, and it was as cold as ice.  He grew afraid, and moved his\nhand across, and the monster\u2019s hand followed it quickly.  He tried to\npress on, but something smooth and hard stopped him.  The face of the\nmonster was now close to his own, and seemed full of terror.  He brushed\nhis hair off his eyes.  It imitated him.  He struck at it, and it\nreturned blow for blow.  He loathed it, and it made hideous faces at him.\nHe drew back, and it retreated.\n\nWhat is it?  He thought for a moment, and looked round at the rest of the\nroom.  It was strange, but everything seemed to have its double in this\ninvisible wall of clear water.  Yes, picture for picture was repeated,\nand couch for couch.  The sleeping Faun that lay in the alcove by the\ndoorway had its twin brother that slumbered, and the silver Venus that\nstood in the sunlight held out her arms to a Venus as lovely as herself.\n\nWas it Echo?  He had called to her once in the valley, and she had\nanswered him word for word.  Could she mock the eye, as she mocked the\nvoice?  Could she make a mimic world just like the real world?  Could the\nshadows of things have colour and life and movement?  Could it be that\u2014?\n\nHe started, and taking from his breast the beautiful white rose, he\nturned round, and kissed it.  The monster had a rose of its own, petal\nfor petal the same!  It kissed it with like kisses, and pressed it to its\nheart with horrible gestures.\n\nWhen the truth dawned upon him, he gave a wild cry of despair, and fell\nsobbing to the ground.  So it was he who was misshapen and hunchbacked,\nfoul to look at and grotesque.  He himself was the monster, and it was at\nhim that all the children had been laughing, and the little Princess who\nhe had thought loved him\u2014she too had been merely mocking at his ugliness,\nand making merry over his twisted limbs.  Why had they not left him in\nthe forest, where there was no mirror to tell him how loathsome he was?\nWhy had his father not killed him, rather than sell him to his shame?\nThe hot tears poured down his cheeks, and he tore the white rose to\npieces.  The sprawling monster did the same, and scattered the faint\npetals in the air.  It grovelled on the ground, and, when he looked at\nit, it watched him with a face drawn with pain.  He crept away, lest he\nshould see it, and covered his eyes with his hands.  He crawled, like\nsome wounded thing, into the shadow, and lay there moaning.\n\nAnd at that moment the Infanta herself came in with her companions\nthrough the open window, and when they saw the ugly little dwarf lying on\nthe ground and beating the floor with his clenched hands, in the most\nfantastic and exaggerated manner, they went off into shouts of happy\nlaughter, and stood all round him and watched him.\n\n\u2018His dancing was funny,\u2019 said the Infanta; \u2018but his acting is funnier\nstill.  Indeed he is almost as good as the puppets, only of course not\nquite so natural.\u2019  And she fluttered her big fan, and applauded.\n\nBut the little Dwarf never looked up, and his sobs grew fainter and\nfainter, and suddenly he gave a curious gasp, and clutched his side.  And\nthen he fell back again, and lay quite still.\n\n\u2018That is capital,\u2019 said the Infanta, after a pause; \u2018but now you must\ndance for me.\u2019\n\n\u2018Yes,\u2019 cried all the children, \u2018you must get up and dance, for you are as\nclever as the Barbary apes, and much more ridiculous.\u2019  But the little\nDwarf made no answer.\n\nAnd the Infanta stamped her foot, and called out to her uncle, who was\nwalking on the terrace with the Chamberlain, reading some despatches that\nhad just arrived from Mexico, where the Holy Office had recently been\nestablished.  \u2018My funny little dwarf is sulking,\u2019 she cried, \u2018you must\nwake him up, and tell him to dance for me.\u2019\n\nThey smiled at each other, and sauntered in, and Don Pedro stooped down,\nand slapped the Dwarf on the cheek with his embroidered glove.  \u2018You must\ndance,\u2019 he said, \u2018_petit monsire_.  You must dance.  The Infanta of Spain\nand the Indies wishes to be amused.\u2019\n\nBut the little Dwarf never moved.\n\n\u2018A whipping master should be sent for,\u2019 said Don Pedro wearily, and he\nwent back to the terrace.  But the Chamberlain looked grave, and he knelt\nbeside the little dwarf, and put his hand upon his heart.  And after a\nfew moments he shrugged his shoulders, and rose up, and having made a low\nbow to the Infanta, he said\u2014\n\n\u2018_Mi bella Princesa_, your funny little dwarf will never dance again.  It\nis a pity, for he is so ugly that he might have made the King smile.\u2019\n\n\u2018But why will he not dance again?\u2019 asked the Infanta, laughing.\n\n\u2018Because his heart is broken,\u2019 answered the Chamberlain.\n\nAnd the Infanta frowned, and her dainty rose-leaf lips curled in pretty\ndisdain.  \u2018For the future let those who come to play with me have no\nhearts,\u2019 she cried, and she ran out into the garden.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL\n\n\n                                TO H.S.H.\n                             ALICE, PRINCESS\n                                OF MONACO\n\nEVERY evening the young Fisherman went out upon the sea, and threw his\nnets into the water.\n\nWhen the wind blew from the land he caught nothing, or but little at\nbest, for it was a bitter and black-winged wind, and rough waves rose up\nto meet it.  But when the wind blew to the shore, the fish came in from\nthe deep, and swam into the meshes of his nets, and he took them to the\nmarket-place and sold them.\n\nEvery evening he went out upon the sea, and one evening the net was so\nheavy that hardly could he draw it into the boat.  And he laughed, and\nsaid to himself, \u2018Surely I have caught all the fish that swim, or snared\nsome dull monster that will be a marvel to men, or some thing of horror\nthat the great Queen will desire,\u2019 and putting forth all his strength, he\ntugged at the coarse ropes till, like lines of blue enamel round a vase\nof bronze, the long veins rose up on his arms.  He tugged at the thin\nropes, and nearer and nearer came the circle of flat corks, and the net\nrose at last to the top of the water.\n\nBut no fish at all was in it, nor any monster or thing of horror, but\nonly a little Mermaid lying fast asleep.\n\nHer hair was as a wet fleece of gold, and each separate hair as a thread\nof fine gold in a cup of glass.  Her body was as white ivory, and her\ntail was of silver and pearl.  Silver and pearl was her tail, and the\ngreen weeds of the sea coiled round it; and like sea-shells were her\nears, and her lips were like sea-coral.  The cold waves dashed over her\ncold breasts, and the salt glistened upon her eyelids.\n\nSo beautiful was she that when the young Fisherman saw her he was filled\nwith wonder, and he put out his hand and drew the net close to him, and\nleaning over the side he clasped her in his arms.  And when he touched\nher, she gave a cry like a startled sea-gull, and woke, and looked at him\nin terror with her mauve-amethyst eyes, and struggled that she might\nescape.  But he held her tightly to him, and would not suffer her to\ndepart.\n\nAnd when she saw that she could in no way escape from him, she began to\nweep, and said, \u2018I pray thee let me go, for I am the only daughter of a\nKing, and my father is aged and alone.\u2019\n\nBut the young Fisherman answered, \u2018I will not let thee go save thou\nmakest me a promise that whenever I call thee, thou wilt come and sing to\nme, for the fish delight to listen to the song of the Sea-folk, and so\nshall my nets be full.\u2019\n\n\u2018Wilt thou in very truth let me go, if I promise thee this?\u2019 cried the\nMermaid.\n\n\u2018In very truth I will let thee go,\u2019 said the young Fisherman.\n\nSo she made him the promise he desired, and sware it by the oath of the\nSea-folk.  And he loosened his arms from about her, and she sank down\ninto the water, trembling with a strange fear.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nEvery evening the young Fisherman went out upon the sea, and called to\nthe Mermaid, and she rose out of the water and sang to him.  Round and\nround her swam the dolphins, and the wild gulls wheeled above her head.\n\nAnd she sang a marvellous song.  For she sang of the Sea-folk who drive\ntheir flocks from cave to cave, and carry the little calves on their\nshoulders; of the Tritons who have long green beards, and hairy breasts,\nand blow through twisted conchs when the King passes by; of the palace of\nthe King which is all of amber, with a roof of clear emerald, and a\npavement of bright pearl; and of the gardens of the sea where the great\nfiligrane fans of coral wave all day long, and the fish dart about like\nsilver birds, and the anemones cling to the rocks, and the pinks bourgeon\nin the ribbed yellow sand.  She sang of the big whales that come down\nfrom the north seas and have sharp icicles hanging to their fins; of the\nSirens who tell of such wonderful things that the merchants have to stop\ntheir ears with wax lest they should hear them, and leap into the water\nand be drowned; of the sunken galleys with their tall masts, and the\nfrozen sailors clinging to the rigging, and the mackerel swimming in and\nout of the open portholes; of the little barnacles who are great\ntravellers, and cling to the keels of the ships and go round and round\nthe world; and of the cuttlefish who live in the sides of the cliffs and\nstretch out their long black arms, and can make night come when they will\nit.  She sang of the nautilus who has a boat of her own that is carved\nout of an opal and steered with a silken sail; of the happy Mermen who\nplay upon harps and can charm the great Kraken to sleep; of the little\nchildren who catch hold of the slippery porpoises and ride laughing upon\ntheir backs; of the Mermaids who lie in the white foam and hold out their\narms to the mariners; and of the sea-lions with their curved tusks, and\nthe sea-horses with their floating manes.\n\nAnd as she sang, all the tunny-fish came in from the deep to listen to\nher, and the young Fisherman threw his nets round them and caught them,\nand others he took with a spear.  And when his boat was well-laden, the\nMermaid would sink down into the sea, smiling at him.\n\nYet would she never come near him that he might touch her.  Oftentimes he\ncalled to her and prayed of her, but she would not; and when he sought to\nseize her she dived into the water as a seal might dive, nor did he see\nher again that day.  And each day the sound of her voice became sweeter\nto his ears.  So sweet was her voice that he forgot his nets and his\ncunning, and had no care of his craft.  Vermilion-finned and with eyes of\nbossy gold, the tunnies went by in shoals, but he heeded them not.  His\nspear lay by his side unused, and his baskets of plaited osier were\nempty.  With lips parted, and eyes dim with wonder, he sat idle in his\nboat and listened, listening till the sea-mists crept round him, and the\nwandering moon stained his brown limbs with silver.\n\nAnd one evening he called to her, and said: \u2018Little Mermaid, little\nMermaid, I love thee.  Take me for thy bridegroom, for I love thee.\u2019\n\nBut the Mermaid shook her head.  \u2018Thou hast a human soul,\u2019 she answered.\n\u2018If only thou wouldst send away thy soul, then could I love thee.\u2019\n\nAnd the young Fisherman said to himself, \u2018Of what use is my soul to me?\nI cannot see it.  I may not touch it.  I do not know it.  Surely I will\nsend it away from me, and much gladness shall be mine.\u2019  And a cry of joy\nbroke from his lips, and standing up in the painted boat, he held out his\narms to the Mermaid.  \u2018I will send my soul away,\u2019 he cried, \u2018and you\nshall be my bride, and I will be thy bridegroom, and in the depth of the\nsea we will dwell together, and all that thou hast sung of thou shalt\nshow me, and all that thou desirest I will do, nor shall our lives be\ndivided.\u2019\n\nAnd the little Mermaid laughed for pleasure and hid her face in her\nhands.\n\n\u2018But how shall I send my soul from me?\u2019 cried the young Fisherman.  \u2018Tell\nme how I may do it, and lo! it shall be done.\u2019\n\n\u2018Alas!  I know not,\u2019 said the little Mermaid: \u2018the Sea-folk have no\nsouls.\u2019  And she sank down into the deep, looking wistfully at him.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nNow early on the next morning, before the sun was the span of a man\u2019s\nhand above the hill, the young Fisherman went to the house of the Priest\nand knocked three times at the door.\n\nThe novice looked out through the wicket, and when he saw who it was, he\ndrew back the latch and said to him, \u2018Enter.\u2019\n\nAnd the young Fisherman passed in, and knelt down on the sweet-smelling\nrushes of the floor, and cried to the Priest who was reading out of the\nHoly Book and said to him, \u2018Father, I am in love with one of the\nSea-folk, and my soul hindereth me from having my desire.  Tell me how I\ncan send my soul away from me, for in truth I have no need of it.  Of\nwhat value is my soul to me?  I cannot see it.  I may not touch it.  I do\nnot know it.\u2019\n\nAnd the Priest beat his breast, and answered, \u2018Alack, alack, thou art\nmad, or hast eaten of some poisonous herb, for the soul is the noblest\npart of man, and was given to us by God that we should nobly use it.\nThere is no thing more precious than a human soul, nor any earthly thing\nthat can be weighed with it.  It is worth all the gold that is in the\nworld, and is more precious than the rubies of the kings.  Therefore, my\nson, think not any more of this matter, for it is a sin that may not be\nforgiven.  And as for the Sea-folk, they are lost, and they who would\ntraffic with them are lost also.  They are as the beasts of the field\nthat know not good from evil, and for them the Lord has not died.\u2019\n\nThe young Fisherman\u2019s eyes filled with tears when he heard the bitter\nwords of the Priest, and he rose up from his knees and said to him,\n\u2018Father, the Fauns live in the forest and are glad, and on the rocks sit\nthe Mermen with their harps of red gold.  Let me be as they are, I\nbeseech thee, for their days are as the days of flowers.  And as for my\nsoul, what doth my soul profit me, if it stand between me and the thing\nthat I love?\u2019\n\n\u2018The love of the body is vile,\u2019 cried the Priest, knitting his brows,\n\u2018and vile and evil are the pagan things God suffers to wander through His\nworld.  Accursed be the Fauns of the woodland, and accursed be the\nsingers of the sea!  I have heard them at night-time, and they have\nsought to lure me from my beads.  They tap at the window, and laugh.\nThey whisper into my ears the tale of their perilous joys.  They tempt me\nwith temptations, and when I would pray they make mouths at me.  They are\nlost, I tell thee, they are lost.  For them there is no heaven nor hell,\nand in neither shall they praise God\u2019s name.\u2019\n\n\u2018Father,\u2019 cried the young Fisherman, \u2018thou knowest not what thou sayest.\nOnce in my net I snared the daughter of a King.  She is fairer than the\nmorning star, and whiter than the moon.  For her body I would give my\nsoul, and for her love I would surrender heaven.  Tell me what I ask of\nthee, and let me go in peace.\u2019\n\n\u2018Away!  Away!\u2019 cried the Priest: \u2018thy leman is lost, and thou shalt be\nlost with her.\u2019\n\nAnd he gave him no blessing, but drove him from his door.\n\nAnd the young Fisherman went down into the market-place, and he walked\nslowly, and with bowed head, as one who is in sorrow.\n\nAnd when the merchants saw him coming, they began to whisper to each\nother, and one of them came forth to meet him, and called him by name,\nand said to him, \u2018What hast thou to sell?\u2019\n\n\u2018I will sell thee my soul,\u2019 he answered.  \u2018I pray thee buy it of me, for\nI am weary of it.  Of what use is my soul to me?  I cannot see it.  I may\nnot touch it.  I do not know it.\u2019\n\nBut the merchants mocked at him, and said, \u2018Of what use is a man\u2019s soul\nto us?  It is not worth a clipped piece of silver.  Sell us thy body for\na slave, and we will clothe thee in sea-purple, and put a ring upon thy\nfinger, and make thee the minion of the great Queen.  But talk not of the\nsoul, for to us it is nought, nor has it any value for our service.\u2019\n\nAnd the young Fisherman said to himself: \u2018How strange a thing this is!\nThe Priest telleth me that the soul is worth all the gold in the world,\nand the merchants say that it is not worth a clipped piece of silver.\u2019\nAnd he passed out of the market-place, and went down to the shore of the\nsea, and began to ponder on what he should do.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd at noon he remembered how one of his companions, who was a gatherer\nof samphire, had told him of a certain young Witch who dwelt in a cave at\nthe head of the bay and was very cunning in her witcheries.  And he set\nto and ran, so eager was he to get rid of his soul, and a cloud of dust\nfollowed him as he sped round the sand of the shore.  By the itching of\nher palm the young Witch knew his coming, and she laughed and let down\nher red hair.  With her red hair falling around her, she stood at the\nopening of the cave, and in her hand she had a spray of wild hemlock that\nwas blossoming.\n\n\u2018What d\u2019ye lack?  What d\u2019ye lack?\u2019 she cried, as he came panting up the\nsteep, and bent down before her.  \u2018Fish for thy net, when the wind is\nfoul?  I have a little reed-pipe, and when I blow on it the mullet come\nsailing into the bay.  But it has a price, pretty boy, it has a price.\nWhat d\u2019ye lack?  What d\u2019ye lack?  A storm to wreck the ships, and wash\nthe chests of rich treasure ashore?  I have more storms than the wind\nhas, for I serve one who is stronger than the wind, and with a sieve and\na pail of water I can send the great galleys to the bottom of the sea.\nBut I have a price, pretty boy, I have a price.  What d\u2019ye lack?  What\nd\u2019ye lack?  I know a flower that grows in the valley, none knows it but\nI.  It has purple leaves, and a star in its heart, and its juice is as\nwhite as milk.  Shouldst thou touch with this flower the hard lips of the\nQueen, she would follow thee all over the world.  Out of the bed of the\nKing she would rise, and over the whole world she would follow thee.  And\nit has a price, pretty boy, it has a price.  What d\u2019ye lack?  What d\u2019ye\nlack?  I can pound a toad in a mortar, and make broth of it, and stir the\nbroth with a dead man\u2019s hand.  Sprinkle it on thine enemy while he\nsleeps, and he will turn into a black viper, and his own mother will slay\nhim.  With a wheel I can draw the Moon from heaven, and in a crystal I\ncan show thee Death.  What d\u2019ye lack?  What d\u2019ye lack?  Tell me thy\ndesire, and I will give it thee, and thou shalt pay me a price, pretty\nboy, thou shalt pay me a price.\u2019\n\n\u2018My desire is but for a little thing,\u2019 said the young Fisherman, \u2018yet\nhath the Priest been wroth with me, and driven me forth.  It is but for a\nlittle thing, and the merchants have mocked at me, and denied me.\nTherefore am I come to thee, though men call thee evil, and whatever be\nthy price I shall pay it.\u2019\n\n\u2018What wouldst thou?\u2019 asked the Witch, coming near to him.\n\n\u2018I would send my soul away from me,\u2019 answered the young Fisherman.\n\nThe Witch grew pale, and shuddered, and hid her face in her blue mantle.\n\u2018Pretty boy, pretty boy,\u2019 she muttered, \u2018that is a terrible thing to do.\u2019\n\nHe tossed his brown curls and laughed.  \u2018My soul is nought to me,\u2019 he\nanswered.  \u2018I cannot see it.  I may not touch it.  I do not know it.\u2019\n\n\u2018What wilt thou give me if I tell thee?\u2019 asked the Witch, looking down at\nhim with her beautiful eyes.\n\n\u2018Five pieces of gold,\u2019 he said, \u2018and my nets, and the wattled house where\nI live, and the painted boat in which I sail.  Only tell me how to get\nrid of my soul, and I will give thee all that I possess.\u2019\n\nShe laughed mockingly at him, and struck him with the spray of hemlock.\n\u2018I can turn the autumn leaves into gold,\u2019 she answered, \u2018and I can weave\nthe pale moonbeams into silver if I will it.  He whom I serve is richer\nthan all the kings of this world, and has their dominions.\u2019\n\n\u2018What then shall I give thee,\u2019 he cried, \u2018if thy price be neither gold\nnor silver?\u2019\n\nThe Witch stroked his hair with her thin white hand.  \u2018Thou must dance\nwith me, pretty boy,\u2019 she murmured, and she smiled at him as she spoke.\n\n\u2018Nought but that?\u2019 cried the young Fisherman in wonder and he rose to his\nfeet.\n\n\u2018Nought but that,\u2019 she answered, and she smiled at him again.\n\n\u2018Then at sunset in some secret place we shall dance together,\u2019 he said,\n\u2018and after that we have danced thou shalt tell me the thing which I\ndesire to know.\u2019\n\nShe shook her head.  \u2018When the moon is full, when the moon is full,\u2019 she\nmuttered.  Then she peered all round, and listened.  A blue bird rose\nscreaming from its nest and circled over the dunes, and three spotted\nbirds rustled through the coarse grey grass and whistled to each other.\nThere was no other sound save the sound of a wave fretting the smooth\npebbles below.  So she reached out her hand, and drew him near to her and\nput her dry lips close to his ear.\n\n\u2018To-night thou must come to the top of the mountain,\u2019 she whispered.  \u2018It\nis a Sabbath, and He will be there.\u2019\n\nThe young Fisherman started and looked at her, and she showed her white\nteeth and laughed.  \u2018Who is He of whom thou speakest?\u2019 he asked.\n\n\u2018It matters not,\u2019 she answered.  \u2018Go thou to-night, and stand under the\nbranches of the hornbeam, and wait for my coming.  If a black dog run\ntowards thee, strike it with a rod of willow, and it will go away.  If an\nowl speak to thee, make it no answer.  When the moon is full I shall be\nwith thee, and we will dance together on the grass.\u2019\n\n\u2018But wilt thou swear to me to tell me how I may send my soul from me?\u2019 he\nmade question.\n\nShe moved out into the sunlight, and through her red hair rippled the\nwind.  \u2018By the hoofs of the goat I swear it,\u2019 she made answer.\n\n\u2018Thou art the best of the witches,\u2019 cried the young Fisherman, \u2018and I\nwill surely dance with thee to-night on the top of the mountain.  I would\nindeed that thou hadst asked of me either gold or silver.  But such as\nthy price is thou shalt have it, for it is but a little thing.\u2019  And he\ndoffed his cap to her, and bent his head low, and ran back to the town\nfilled with a great joy.\n\nAnd the Witch watched him as he went, and when he had passed from her\nsight she entered her cave, and having taken a mirror from a box of\ncarved cedarwood, she set it up on a frame, and burned vervain on lighted\ncharcoal before it, and peered through the coils of the smoke.  And after\na time she clenched her hands in anger.  \u2018He should have been mine,\u2019 she\nmuttered, \u2018I am as fair as she is.\u2019\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd that evening, when the moon had risen, the young Fisherman climbed up\nto the top of the mountain, and stood under the branches of the hornbeam.\nLike a targe of polished metal the round sea lay at his feet, and the\nshadows of the fishing-boats moved in the little bay.  A great owl, with\nyellow sulphurous eyes, called to him by his name, but he made it no\nanswer.  A black dog ran towards him and snarled.  He struck it with a\nrod of willow, and it went away whining.\n\nAt midnight the witches came flying through the air like bats.  \u2018Phew!\u2019\nthey cried, as they lit upon the ground, \u2018there is some one here we know\nnot!\u2019 and they sniffed about, and chattered to each other, and made\nsigns.  Last of all came the young Witch, with her red hair streaming in\nthe wind.  She wore a dress of gold tissue embroidered with peacocks\u2019\neyes, and a little cap of green velvet was on her head.\n\n\u2018Where is he, where is he?\u2019 shrieked the witches when they saw her, but\nshe only laughed, and ran to the hornbeam, and taking the Fisherman by\nthe hand she led him out into the moonlight and began to dance.\n\nRound and round they whirled, and the young Witch jumped so high that he\ncould see the scarlet heels of her shoes.  Then right across the dancers\ncame the sound of the galloping of a horse, but no horse was to be seen,\nand he felt afraid.\n\n\u2018Faster,\u2019 cried the Witch, and she threw her arms about his neck, and her\nbreath was hot upon his face.  \u2018Faster, faster!\u2019 she cried, and the earth\nseemed to spin beneath his feet, and his brain grew troubled, and a great\nterror fell on him, as of some evil thing that was watching him, and at\nlast he became aware that under the shadow of a rock there was a figure\nthat had not been there before.\n\nIt was a man dressed in a suit of black velvet, cut in the Spanish\nfashion.  His face was strangely pale, but his lips were like a proud red\nflower.  He seemed weary, and was leaning back toying in a listless\nmanner with the pommel of his dagger.  On the grass beside him lay a\nplumed hat, and a pair of riding-gloves gauntleted with gilt lace, and\nsewn with seed-pearls wrought into a curious device.  A short cloak lined\nwith sables hang from his shoulder, and his delicate white hands were\ngemmed with rings.  Heavy eyelids drooped over his eyes.\n\nThe young Fisherman watched him, as one snared in a spell.  At last their\neyes met, and wherever he danced it seemed to him that the eyes of the\nman were upon him.  He heard the Witch laugh, and caught her by the\nwaist, and whirled her madly round and round.\n\nSuddenly a dog bayed in the wood, and the dancers stopped, and going up\ntwo by two, knelt down, and kissed the man\u2019s hands.  As they did so, a\nlittle smile touched his proud lips, as a bird\u2019s wing touches the water\nand makes it laugh.  But there was disdain in it.  He kept looking at the\nyoung Fisherman.\n\n\u2018Come! let us worship,\u2019 whispered the Witch, and she led him up, and a\ngreat desire to do as she besought him seized on him, and he followed\nher.  But when he came close, and without knowing why he did it, he made\non his breast the sign of the Cross, and called upon the holy name.\n\nNo sooner had he done so than the witches screamed like hawks and flew\naway, and the pallid face that had been watching him twitched with a\nspasm of pain.  The man went over to a little wood, and whistled.  A\njennet with silver trappings came running to meet him.  As he leapt upon\nthe saddle he turned round, and looked at the young Fisherman sadly.\n\nAnd the Witch with the red hair tried to fly away also, but the Fisherman\ncaught her by her wrists, and held her fast.\n\n\u2018Loose me,\u2019 she cried, \u2018and let me go.  For thou hast named what should\nnot be named, and shown the sign that may not be looked at.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay,\u2019 he answered, \u2018but I will not let thee go till thou hast told me\nthe secret.\u2019\n\n\u2018What secret?\u2019 said the Witch, wrestling with him like a wild cat, and\nbiting her foam-flecked lips.\n\n\u2018Thou knowest,\u2019 he made answer.\n\nHer grass-green eyes grew dim with tears, and she said to the Fisherman,\n\u2018Ask me anything but that!\u2019\n\nHe laughed, and held her all the more tightly.\n\nAnd when she saw that she could not free herself, she whispered to him,\n\u2018Surely I am as fair as the daughters of the sea, and as comely as those\nthat dwell in the blue waters,\u2019 and she fawned on him and put her face\nclose to his.\n\nBut he thrust her back frowning, and said to her, \u2018If thou keepest not\nthe promise that thou madest to me I will slay thee for a false witch.\u2019\n\nShe grew grey as a blossom of the Judas tree, and shuddered.  \u2018Be it so,\u2019\nshe muttered.  \u2018It is thy soul and not mine.  Do with it as thou wilt.\u2019\nAnd she took from her girdle a little knife that had a handle of green\nviper\u2019s skin, and gave it to him.\n\n\u2018What shall this serve me?\u2019 he asked of her, wondering.\n\nShe was silent for a few moments, and a look of terror came over her\nface.  Then she brushed her hair back from her forehead, and smiling\nstrangely she said to him, \u2018What men call the shadow of the body is not\nthe shadow of the body, but is the body of the soul.  Stand on the\nsea-shore with thy back to the moon, and cut away from around thy feet\nthy shadow, which is thy soul\u2019s body, and bid thy soul leave thee, and it\nwill do so.\u2019\n\nThe young Fisherman trembled.  \u2018Is this true?\u2019 he murmured.\n\n\u2018It is true, and I would that I had not told thee of it,\u2019 she cried, and\nshe clung to his knees weeping.\n\nHe put her from him and left her in the rank grass, and going to the edge\nof the mountain he placed the knife in his belt and began to climb down.\n\nAnd his Soul that was within him called out to him and said, \u2018Lo!  I have\ndwelt with thee for all these years, and have been thy servant.  Send me\nnot away from thee now, for what evil have I done thee?\u2019\n\nAnd the young Fisherman laughed.  \u2018Thou hast done me no evil, but I have\nno need of thee,\u2019 he answered.  \u2018The world is wide, and there is Heaven\nalso, and Hell, and that dim twilight house that lies between.  Go\nwherever thou wilt, but trouble me not, for my love is calling to me.\u2019\n\nAnd his Soul besought him piteously, but he heeded it not, but leapt from\ncrag to crag, being sure-footed as a wild goat, and at last he reached\nthe level ground and the yellow shore of the sea.\n\nBronze-limbed and well-knit, like a statue wrought by a Grecian, he stood\non the sand with his back to the moon, and out of the foam came white\narms that beckoned to him, and out of the waves rose dim forms that did\nhim homage.  Before him lay his shadow, which was the body of his soul,\nand behind him hung the moon in the honey-coloured air.\n\nAnd his Soul said to him, \u2018If indeed thou must drive me from thee, send\nme not forth without a heart.  The world is cruel, give me thy heart to\ntake with me.\u2019\n\nHe tossed his head and smiled.  \u2018With what should I love my love if I\ngave thee my heart?\u2019 he cried.\n\n\u2018Nay, but be merciful,\u2019 said his Soul: \u2018give me thy heart, for the world\nis very cruel, and I am afraid.\u2019\n\n\u2018My heart is my love\u2019s,\u2019 he answered, \u2018therefore tarry not, but get thee\ngone.\u2019\n\n\u2018Should I not love also?\u2019 asked his Soul.\n\n\u2018Get thee gone, for I have no need of thee,\u2019 cried the young Fisherman,\nand he took the little knife with its handle of green viper\u2019s skin, and\ncut away his shadow from around his feet, and it rose up and stood before\nhim, and looked at him, and it was even as himself.\n\nHe crept back, and thrust the knife into his belt, and a feeling of awe\ncame over him.  \u2018Get thee gone,\u2019 he murmured, \u2018and let me see thy face no\nmore.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay, but we must meet again,\u2019 said the Soul.  Its voice was low and\nflute-like, and its lips hardly moved while it spake.\n\n\u2018How shall we meet?\u2019 cried the young Fisherman.  \u2018Thou wilt not follow me\ninto the depths of the sea?\u2019\n\n\u2018Once every year I will come to this place, and call to thee,\u2019 said the\nSoul.  \u2018It may be that thou wilt have need of me.\u2019\n\n\u2018What need should I have of thee?\u2019 cried the young Fisherman, \u2018but be it\nas thou wilt,\u2019 and he plunged into the waters and the Tritons blew their\nhorns and the little Mermaid rose up to meet him, and put her arms around\nhis neck and kissed him on the mouth.\n\nAnd the Soul stood on the lonely beach and watched them.  And when they\nhad sunk down into the sea, it went weeping away over the marshes.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd after a year was over the Soul came down to the shore of the sea and\ncalled to the young Fisherman, and he rose out of the deep, and said,\n\u2018Why dost thou call to me?\u2019\n\nAnd the Soul answered, \u2018Come nearer, that I may speak with thee, for I\nhave seen marvellous things.\u2019\n\nSo he came nearer, and couched in the shallow water, and leaned his head\nupon his hand and listened.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd the Soul said to him, \u2018When I left thee I turned my face to the East\nand journeyed.  From the East cometh everything that is wise.  Six days I\njourneyed, and on the morning of the seventh day I came to a hill that is\nin the country of the Tartars.  I sat down under the shade of a tamarisk\ntree to shelter myself from the sun.  The land was dry and burnt up with\nthe heat.  The people went to and fro over the plain like flies crawling\nupon a disk of polished copper.\n\n\u2018When it was noon a cloud of red dust rose up from the flat rim of the\nland.  When the Tartars saw it, they strung their painted bows, and\nhaving leapt upon their little horses they galloped to meet it.  The\nwomen fled screaming to the waggons, and hid themselves behind the felt\ncurtains.\n\n\u2018At twilight the Tartars returned, but five of them were missing, and of\nthose that came back not a few had been wounded.  They harnessed their\nhorses to the waggons and drove hastily away.  Three jackals came out of\na cave and peered after them.  Then they sniffed up the air with their\nnostrils, and trotted off in the opposite direction.\n\n\u2018When the moon rose I saw a camp-fire burning on the plain, and went\ntowards it.  A company of merchants were seated round it on carpets.\nTheir camels were picketed behind them, and the negroes who were their\nservants were pitching tents of tanned skin upon the sand, and making a\nhigh wall of the prickly pear.\n\n\u2018As I came near them, the chief of the merchants rose up and drew his\nsword, and asked me my business.\n\n\u2018I answered that I was a Prince in my own land, and that I had escaped\nfrom the Tartars, who had sought to make me their slave.  The chief\nsmiled, and showed me five heads fixed upon long reeds of bamboo.\n\n\u2018Then he asked me who was the prophet of God, and I answered him\nMohammed.\n\n\u2018When he heard the name of the false prophet, he bowed and took me by the\nhand, and placed me by his side.  A negro brought me some mare\u2019s milk in\na wooden dish, and a piece of lamb\u2019s flesh roasted.\n\n\u2018At daybreak we started on our journey.  I rode on a red-haired camel by\nthe side of the chief, and a runner ran before us carrying a spear.  The\nmen of war were on either hand, and the mules followed with the\nmerchandise.  There were forty camels in the caravan, and the mules were\ntwice forty in number.\n\n\u2018We went from the country of the Tartars into the country of those who\ncurse the Moon.  We saw the Gryphons guarding their gold on the white\nrocks, and the scaled Dragons sleeping in their caves.  As we passed over\nthe mountains we held our breath lest the snows might fall on us, and\neach man tied a veil of gauze before his eyes.  As we passed through the\nvalleys the Pygmies shot arrows at us from the hollows of the trees, and\nat night-time we heard the wild men beating on their drums.  When we came\nto the Tower of Apes we set fruits before them, and they did not harm us.\nWhen we came to the Tower of Serpents we gave them warm milk in howls of\nbrass, and they let us go by.  Three times in our journey we came to the\nbanks of the Oxus.  We crossed it on rafts of wood with great bladders of\nblown hide.  The river-horses raged against us and sought to slay us.\nWhen the camels saw them they trembled.\n\n\u2018The kings of each city levied tolls on us, but would not suffer us to\nenter their gates.  They threw us bread over the walls, little\nmaize-cakes baked in honey and cakes of fine flour filled with dates.\nFor every hundred baskets we gave them a bead of amber.\n\n\u2018When the dwellers in the villages saw us coming, they poisoned the wells\nand fled to the hill-summits.  We fought with the Magadae who are born\nold, and grow younger and younger every year, and die when they are\nlittle children; and with the Laktroi who say that they are the sons of\ntigers, and paint themselves yellow and black; and with the Aurantes who\nbury their dead on the tops of trees, and themselves live in dark caverns\nlest the Sun, who is their god, should slay them; and with the Krimnians\nwho worship a crocodile, and give it earrings of green glass, and feed it\nwith butter and fresh fowls; and with the Agazonbae, who are dog-faced;\nand with the Sibans, who have horses\u2019 feet, and run more swiftly than\nhorses.  A third of our company died in battle, and a third died of want.\nThe rest murmured against me, and said that I had brought them an evil\nfortune.  I took a horned adder from beneath a stone and let it sting me.\nWhen they saw that I did not sicken they grew afraid.\n\n\u2018In the fourth month we reached the city of Illel.  It was night-time\nwhen we came to the grove that is outside the walls, and the air was\nsultry, for the Moon was travelling in Scorpion.  We took the ripe\npomegranates from the trees, and brake them, and drank their sweet\njuices.  Then we lay down on our carpets, and waited for the dawn.\n\n\u2018And at dawn we rose and knocked at the gate of the city.  It was wrought\nout of red bronze, and carved with sea-dragons and dragons that have\nwings.  The guards looked down from the battlements and asked us our\nbusiness.  The interpreter of the caravan answered that we had come from\nthe island of Syria with much merchandise.  They took hostages, and told\nus that they would open the gate to us at noon, and bade us tarry till\nthen.\n\n\u2018When it was noon they opened the gate, and as we entered in the people\ncame crowding out of the houses to look at us, and a crier went round the\ncity crying through a shell.  We stood in the market-place, and the\nnegroes uncorded the bales of figured cloths and opened the carved chests\nof sycamore.  And when they had ended their task, the merchants set forth\ntheir strange wares, the waxed linen from Egypt and the painted linen\nfrom the country of the Ethiops, the purple sponges from Tyre and the\nblue hangings from Sidon, the cups of cold amber and the fine vessels of\nglass and the curious vessels of burnt clay.  From the roof of a house a\ncompany of women watched us.  One of them wore a mask of gilded leather.\n\n\u2018And on the first day the priests came and bartered with us, and on the\nsecond day came the nobles, and on the third day came the craftsmen and\nthe slaves.  And this is their custom with all merchants as long as they\ntarry in the city.\n\n\u2018And we tarried for a moon, and when the moon was waning, I wearied and\nwandered away through the streets of the city and came to the garden of\nits god.  The priests in their yellow robes moved silently through the\ngreen trees, and on a pavement of black marble stood the rose-red house\nin which the god had his dwelling.  Its doors were of powdered lacquer,\nand bulls and peacocks were wrought on them in raised and polished gold.\nThe tilted roof was of sea-green porcelain, and the jutting eaves were\nfestooned with little bells.  When the white doves flew past, they struck\nthe bells with their wings and made them tinkle.\n\n\u2018In front of the temple was a pool of clear water paved with veined onyx.\nI lay down beside it, and with my pale fingers I touched the broad\nleaves.  One of the priests came towards me and stood behind me.  He had\nsandals on his feet, one of soft serpent-skin and the other of birds\u2019\nplumage.  On his head was a mitre of black felt decorated with silver\ncrescents.  Seven yellows were woven into his robe, and his frizzed hair\nwas stained with antimony.\n\n\u2018After a little while he spake to me, and asked me my desire.\n\n\u2018I told him that my desire was to see the god.\n\n\u2018\u201cThe god is hunting,\u201d said the priest, looking strangely at me with his\nsmall slanting eyes.\n\n\u2018\u201cTell me in what forest, and I will ride with him,\u201d I answered.\n\n\u2018He combed out the soft fringes of his tunic with his long pointed nails.\n\u201cThe god is asleep,\u201d he murmured.\n\n\u2018\u201cTell me on what couch, and I will watch by him,\u201d I answered.\n\n\u2018\u201cThe god is at the feast,\u201d he cried.\n\n\u2018\u201cIf the wine be sweet I will drink it with him, and if it be bitter I\nwill drink it with him also,\u201d was my answer.\n\n\u2018He bowed his head in wonder, and, taking me by the hand, he raised me\nup, and led me into the temple.\n\n\u2018And in the first chamber I saw an idol seated on a throne of jasper\nbordered with great orient pearls.  It was carved out of ebony, and in\nstature was of the stature of a man.  On its forehead was a ruby, and\nthick oil dripped from its hair on to its thighs.  Its feet were red with\nthe blood of a newly-slain kid, and its loins girt with a copper belt\nthat was studded with seven beryls.\n\n\u2018And I said to the priest, \u201cIs this the god?\u201d  And he answered me, \u201cThis\nis the god.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cShow me the god,\u201d I cried, \u201cor I will surely slay thee.\u201d  And I touched\nhis hand, and it became withered.\n\n\u2018And the priest besought me, saying, \u201cLet my lord heal his servant, and I\nwill show him the god.\u201d\n\n\u2018So I breathed with my breath upon his hand, and it became whole again,\nand he trembled and led me into the second chamber, and I saw an idol\nstanding on a lotus of jade hung with great emeralds.  It was carved out\nof ivory, and in stature was twice the stature of a man.  On its forehead\nwas a chrysolite, and its breasts were smeared with myrrh and cinnamon.\nIn one hand it held a crooked sceptre of jade, and in the other a round\ncrystal.  It ware buskins of brass, and its thick neck was circled with a\ncircle of selenites.\n\n\u2018And I said to the priest, \u201cIs this the god?\u201d\n\n\u2018And he answered me, \u201cThis is the god.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cShow me the god,\u201d I cried, \u201cor I will surely slay thee.\u201d  And I touched\nhis eyes, and they became blind.\n\n\u2018And the priest besought me, saying, \u201cLet my lord heal his servant, and I\nwill show him the god.\u201d\n\n\u2018So I breathed with my breath upon his eyes, and the sight came back to\nthem, and he trembled again, and led me into the third chamber, and lo!\nthere was no idol in it, nor image of any kind, but only a mirror of\nround metal set on an altar of stone.\n\n\u2018And I said to the priest, \u201cWhere is the god?\u201d\n\n\u2018And he answered me: \u201cThere is no god but this mirror that thou seest,\nfor this is the Mirror of Wisdom.  And it reflecteth all things that are\nin heaven and on earth, save only the face of him who looketh into it.\nThis it reflecteth not, so that he who looketh into it may be wise.  Many\nother mirrors are there, but they are mirrors of Opinion.  This only is\nthe Mirror of Wisdom.  And they who possess this mirror know everything,\nnor is there anything hidden from them.  And they who possess it not have\nnot Wisdom.  Therefore is it the god, and we worship it.\u201d  And I looked\ninto the mirror, and it was even as he had said to me.\n\n\u2018And I did a strange thing, but what I did matters not, for in a valley\nthat is but a day\u2019s journey from this place have I hidden the Mirror of\nWisdom.  Do but suffer me to enter into thee again and be thy servant,\nand thou shalt be wiser than all the wise men, and Wisdom shall be thine.\nSuffer me to enter into thee, and none will be as wise as thou.\u2019\n\nBut the young Fisherman laughed.  \u2018Love is better than Wisdom,\u2019 he cried,\n\u2018and the little Mermaid loves me.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay, but there is nothing better than Wisdom,\u2019 said the Soul.\n\n\u2018Love is better,\u2019 answered the young Fisherman, and he plunged into the\ndeep, and the Soul went weeping away over the marshes.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd after the second year was over, the Soul came down to the shore of\nthe sea, and called to the young Fisherman, and he rose out of the deep\nand said, \u2018Why dost thou call to me?\u2019\n\nAnd the Soul answered, \u2018Come nearer, that I may speak with thee, for I\nhave seen marvellous things.\u2019\n\nSo he came nearer, and couched in the shallow water, and leaned his head\nupon his hand and listened.\n\nAnd the Soul said to him, \u2018When I left thee, I turned my face to the\nSouth and journeyed.  From the South cometh everything that is precious.\nSix days I journeyed along the highways that lead to the city of Ashter,\nalong the dusty red-dyed highways by which the pilgrims are wont to go\ndid I journey, and on the morning of the seventh day I lifted up my eyes,\nand lo! the city lay at my feet, for it is in a valley.\n\n\u2018There are nine gates to this city, and in front of each gate stands a\nbronze horse that neighs when the Bedouins come down from the mountains.\nThe walls are cased with copper, and the watch-towers on the walls are\nroofed with brass.  In every tower stands an archer with a bow in his\nhand.  At sunrise he strikes with an arrow on a gong, and at sunset he\nblows through a horn of horn.\n\n\u2018When I sought to enter, the guards stopped me and asked of me who I was.\nI made answer that I was a Dervish and on my way to the city of Mecca,\nwhere there was a green veil on which the Koran was embroidered in silver\nletters by the hands of the angels.  They were filled with wonder, and\nentreated me to pass in.\n\n\u2018Inside it is even as a bazaar.  Surely thou shouldst have been with me.\nAcross the narrow streets the gay lanterns of paper flutter like large\nbutterflies.  When the wind blows over the roofs they rise and fall as\npainted bubbles do.  In front of their booths sit the merchants on silken\ncarpets.  They have straight black beards, and their turbans are covered\nwith golden sequins, and long strings of amber and carved peach-stones\nglide through their cool fingers.  Some of them sell galbanum and nard,\nand curious perfumes from the islands of the Indian Sea, and the thick\noil of red roses, and myrrh and little nail-shaped cloves.  When one\nstops to speak to them, they throw pinches of frankincense upon a\ncharcoal brazier and make the air sweet.  I saw a Syrian who held in his\nhands a thin rod like a reed.  Grey threads of smoke came from it, and\nits odour as it burned was as the odour of the pink almond in spring.\nOthers sell silver bracelets embossed all over with creamy blue turquoise\nstones, and anklets of brass wire fringed with little pearls, and tigers\u2019\nclaws set in gold, and the claws of that gilt cat, the leopard, set in\ngold also, and earrings of pierced emerald, and finger-rings of hollowed\njade.  From the tea-houses comes the sound of the guitar, and the\nopium-smokers with their white smiling faces look out at the passers-by.\n\n\u2018Of a truth thou shouldst have been with me.  The wine-sellers elbow\ntheir way through the crowd with great black skins on their shoulders.\nMost of them sell the wine of Schiraz, which is as sweet as honey.  They\nserve it in little metal cups and strew rose leaves upon it.  In the\nmarket-place stand the fruitsellers, who sell all kinds of fruit: ripe\nfigs, with their bruised purple flesh, melons, smelling of musk and\nyellow as topazes, citrons and rose-apples and clusters of white grapes,\nround red-gold oranges, and oval lemons of green gold.  Once I saw an\nelephant go by.  Its trunk was painted with vermilion and turmeric, and\nover its ears it had a net of crimson silk cord.  It stopped opposite one\nof the booths and began eating the oranges, and the man only laughed.\nThou canst not think how strange a people they are.  When they are glad\nthey go to the bird-sellers and buy of them a caged bird, and set it free\nthat their joy may be greater, and when they are sad they scourge\nthemselves with thorns that their sorrow may not grow less.\n\n\u2018One evening I met some negroes carrying a heavy palanquin through the\nbazaar.  It was made of gilded bamboo, and the poles were of vermilion\nlacquer studded with brass peacocks.  Across the windows hung thin\ncurtains of muslin embroidered with beetles\u2019 wings and with tiny\nseed-pearls, and as it passed by a pale-faced Circassian looked out and\nsmiled at me.  I followed behind, and the negroes hurried their steps and\nscowled.  But I did not care.  I felt a great curiosity come over me.\n\n\u2018At last they stopped at a square white house.  There were no windows to\nit, only a little door like the door of a tomb.  They set down the\npalanquin and knocked three times with a copper hammer.  An Armenian in a\ncaftan of green leather peered through the wicket, and when he saw them\nhe opened, and spread a carpet on the ground, and the woman stepped out.\nAs she went in, she turned round and smiled at me again.  I had never\nseen any one so pale.\n\n\u2018When the moon rose I returned to the same place and sought for the\nhouse, but it was no longer there.  When I saw that, I knew who the woman\nwas, and wherefore she had smiled at me.\n\n\u2018Certainly thou shouldst have been with me.  On the feast of the New Moon\nthe young Emperor came forth from his palace and went into the mosque to\npray.  His hair and beard were dyed with rose-leaves, and his cheeks were\npowdered with a fine gold dust.  The palms of his feet and hands were\nyellow with saffron.\n\n\u2018At sunrise he went forth from his palace in a robe of silver, and at\nsunset he returned to it again in a robe of gold.  The people flung\nthemselves on the ground and hid their faces, but I would not do so.  I\nstood by the stall of a seller of dates and waited.  When the Emperor saw\nme, he raised his painted eyebrows and stopped.  I stood quite still, and\nmade him no obeisance.  The people marvelled at my boldness, and\ncounselled me to flee from the city.  I paid no heed to them, but went\nand sat with the sellers of strange gods, who by reason of their craft\nare abominated.  When I told them what I had done, each of them gave me a\ngod and prayed me to leave them.\n\n\u2018That night, as I lay on a cushion in the tea-house that is in the Street\nof Pomegranates, the guards of the Emperor entered and led me to the\npalace.  As I went in they closed each door behind me, and put a chain\nacross it.  Inside was a great court with an arcade running all round.\nThe walls were of white alabaster, set here and there with blue and green\ntiles.  The pillars were of green marble, and the pavement of a kind of\npeach-blossom marble.  I had never seen anything like it before.\n\n\u2018As I passed across the court two veiled women looked down from a balcony\nand cursed me.  The guards hastened on, and the butts of the lances rang\nupon the polished floor.  They opened a gate of wrought ivory, and I\nfound myself in a watered garden of seven terraces.  It was planted with\ntulip-cups and moonflowers, and silver-studded aloes.  Like a slim reed\nof crystal a fountain hung in the dusky air.  The cypress-trees were like\nburnt-out torches.  From one of them a nightingale was singing.\n\n\u2018At the end of the garden stood a little pavilion.  As we approached it\ntwo eunuchs came out to meet us.  Their fat bodies swayed as they walked,\nand they glanced curiously at me with their yellow-lidded eyes.  One of\nthem drew aside the captain of the guard, and in a low voice whispered to\nhim.  The other kept munching scented pastilles, which he took with an\naffected gesture out of an oval box of lilac enamel.\n\n\u2018After a few moments the captain of the guard dismissed the soldiers.\nThey went back to the palace, the eunuchs following slowly behind and\nplucking the sweet mulberries from the trees as they passed.  Once the\nelder of the two turned round, and smiled at me with an evil smile.\n\n\u2018Then the captain of the guard motioned me towards the entrance of the\npavilion.  I walked on without trembling, and drawing the heavy curtain\naside I entered in.\n\n\u2018The young Emperor was stretched on a couch of dyed lion skins, and a\ngerfalcon perched upon his wrist.  Behind him stood a brass-turbaned\nNubian, naked down to the waist, and with heavy earrings in his split\nears.  On a table by the side of the couch lay a mighty scimitar of\nsteel.\n\n\u2018When the Emperor saw me he frowned, and said to me, \u201cWhat is thy name?\nKnowest thou not that I am Emperor of this city?\u201d  But I made him no\nanswer.\n\n\u2018He pointed with his finger at the scimitar, and the Nubian seized it,\nand rushing forward struck at me with great violence.  The blade whizzed\nthrough me, and did me no hurt.  The man fell sprawling on the floor, and\nwhen he rose up his teeth chattered with terror and he hid himself behind\nthe couch.\n\n\u2018The Emperor leapt to his feet, and taking a lance from a stand of arms,\nhe threw it at me.  I caught it in its flight, and brake the shaft into\ntwo pieces.  He shot at me with an arrow, but I held up my hands and it\nstopped in mid-air.  Then he drew a dagger from a belt of white leather,\nand stabbed the Nubian in the throat lest the slave should tell of his\ndishonour.  The man writhed like a trampled snake, and a red foam bubbled\nfrom his lips.\n\n\u2018As soon as he was dead the Emperor turned to me, and when he had wiped\naway the bright sweat from his brow with a little napkin of purfled and\npurple silk, he said to me, \u201cArt thou a prophet, that I may not harm\nthee, or the son of a prophet, that I can do thee no hurt?  I pray thee\nleave my city to-night, for while thou art in it I am no longer its\nlord.\u201d\n\n\u2018And I answered him, \u201cI will go for half of thy treasure.  Give me half\nof thy treasure, and I will go away.\u201d\n\n\u2018He took me by the hand, and led me out into the garden.  When the\ncaptain of the guard saw me, he wondered.  When the eunuchs saw me, their\nknees shook and they fell upon the ground in fear.\n\n\u2018There is a chamber in the palace that has eight walls of red porphyry,\nand a brass-sealed ceiling hung with lamps.  The Emperor touched one of\nthe walls and it opened, and we passed down a corridor that was lit with\nmany torches.  In niches upon each side stood great wine-jars filled to\nthe brim with silver pieces.  When we reached the centre of the corridor\nthe Emperor spake the word that may not be spoken, and a granite door\nswung back on a secret spring, and he put his hands before his face lest\nhis eyes should be dazzled.\n\n\u2018Thou couldst not believe how marvellous a place it was.  There were huge\ntortoise-shells full of pearls, and hollowed moonstones of great size\npiled up with red rubies.  The gold was stored in coffers of\nelephant-hide, and the gold-dust in leather bottles.  There were opals\nand sapphires, the former in cups of crystal, and the latter in cups of\njade.  Round green emeralds were ranged in order upon thin plates of\nivory, and in one corner were silk bags filled, some with\nturquoise-stones, and others with beryls.  The ivory horns were heaped\nwith purple amethysts, and the horns of brass with chalcedonies and\nsards.  The pillars, which were of cedar, were hung with strings of\nyellow lynx-stones.  In the flat oval shields there were carbuncles, both\nwine-coloured and coloured like grass.  And yet I have told thee but a\ntithe of what was there.\n\n\u2018And when the Emperor had taken away his hands from before his face he\nsaid to me: \u201cThis is my house of treasure, and half that is in it is\nthine, even as I promised to thee.  And I will give thee camels and camel\ndrivers, and they shall do thy bidding and take thy share of the treasure\nto whatever part of the world thou desirest to go.  And the thing shall\nbe done to-night, for I would not that the Sun, who is my father, should\nsee that there is in my city a man whom I cannot slay.\u201d\n\n\u2018But I answered him, \u201cThe gold that is here is thine, and the silver also\nis thine, and thine are the precious jewels and the things of price.  As\nfor me, I have no need of these.  Nor shall I take aught from thee but\nthat little ring that thou wearest on the finger of thy hand.\u201d\n\n\u2018And the Emperor frowned.  \u201cIt is but a ring of lead,\u201d he cried, \u201cnor has\nit any value.  Therefore take thy half of the treasure and go from my\ncity.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNay,\u201d I answered, \u201cbut I will take nought but that leaden ring, for I\nknow what is written within it, and for what purpose.\u201d\n\n\u2018And the Emperor trembled, and besought me and said, \u201cTake all the\ntreasure and go from my city.  The half that is mine shall be thine\nalso.\u201d\n\n\u2018And I did a strange thing, but what I did matters not, for in a cave\nthat is but a day\u2019s journey from this place have, I hidden the Ring of\nRiches.  It is but a day\u2019s journey from this place, and it waits for thy\ncoming.  He who has this Ring is richer than all the kings of the world.\nCome therefore and take it, and the world\u2019s riches shall be thine.\u2019\n\nBut the young Fisherman laughed.  \u2018Love is better than Riches,\u2019 he cried,\n\u2018and the little Mermaid loves me.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay, but there is nothing better than Riches,\u2019 said the Soul.\n\n\u2018Love is better,\u2019 answered the young Fisherman, and he plunged into the\ndeep, and the Soul went weeping away over the marshes.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd after the third year was over, the Soul came down to the shore of the\nsea, and called to the young Fisherman, and he rose out of the deep and\nsaid, \u2018Why dost thou call to me?\u2019\n\nAnd the Soul answered, \u2018Come nearer, that I may speak with thee, for I\nhave seen marvellous things.\u2019\n\nSo he came nearer, and couched in the shallow water, and leaned his head\nupon his hand and listened.\n\nAnd the Soul said to him, \u2018In a city that I know of there is an inn that\nstandeth by a river.  I sat there with sailors who drank of two\ndifferent-coloured wines, and ate bread made of barley, and little salt\nfish served in bay leaves with vinegar.  And as we sat and made merry,\nthere entered to us an old man bearing a leathern carpet and a lute that\nhad two horns of amber.  And when he had laid out the carpet on the\nfloor, he struck with a quill on the wire strings of his lute, and a girl\nwhose face was veiled ran in and began to dance before us.  Her face was\nveiled with a veil of gauze, but her feet were naked.  Naked were her\nfeet, and they moved over the carpet like little white pigeons.  Never\nhave I seen anything so marvellous; and the city in which she dances is\nbut a day\u2019s journey from this place.\u2019\n\nNow when the young Fisherman heard the words of his Soul, he remembered\nthat the little Mermaid had no feet and could not dance.  And a great\ndesire came over him, and he said to himself, \u2018It is but a day\u2019s journey,\nand I can return to my love,\u2019 and he laughed, and stood up in the shallow\nwater, and strode towards the shore.\n\nAnd when he had reached the dry shore he laughed again, and held out his\narms to his Soul.  And his Soul gave a great cry of joy and ran to meet\nhim, and entered into him, and the young Fisherman saw stretched before\nhim upon the sand that shadow of the body that is the body of the Soul.\n\nAnd his Soul said to him, \u2018Let us not tarry, but get hence at once, for\nthe Sea-gods are jealous, and have monsters that do their bidding.\u2019\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nSo they made haste, and all that night they journeyed beneath the moon,\nand all the next day they journeyed beneath the sun, and on the evening\nof the day they came to a city.\n\nAnd the young Fisherman said to his Soul, \u2018Is this the city in which she\ndances of whom thou didst speak to me?\u2019\n\nAnd his Soul answered him, \u2018It is not this city, but another.\nNevertheless let us enter in.\u2019  So they entered in and passed through the\nstreets, and as they passed through the Street of the Jewellers the young\nFisherman saw a fair silver cup set forth in a booth.  And his Soul said\nto him, \u2018Take that silver cup and hide it.\u2019\n\nSo he took the cup and hid it in the fold of his tunic, and they went\nhurriedly out of the city.\n\nAnd after that they had gone a league from the city, the young Fisherman\nfrowned, and flung the cup away, and said to his Soul, \u2018Why didst thou\ntell me to take this cup and hide it, for it was an evil thing to do?\u2019\n\nBut his Soul answered him, \u2018Be at peace, be at peace.\u2019\n\nAnd on the evening of the second day they came to a city, and the young\nFisherman said to his Soul, \u2018Is this the city in which she dances of whom\nthou didst speak to me?\u2019\n\nAnd his Soul answered him, \u2018It is not this city, but another.\nNevertheless let us enter in.\u2019  So they entered in and passed through the\nstreets, and as they passed through the Street of the Sellers of Sandals,\nthe young Fisherman saw a child standing by a jar of water.  And his Soul\nsaid to him, \u2018Smite that child.\u2019  So he smote the child till it wept, and\nwhen he had done this they went hurriedly out of the city.\n\nAnd after that they had gone a league from the city the young Fisherman\ngrew wroth, and said to his Soul, \u2018Why didst thou tell me to smite the\nchild, for it was an evil thing to do?\u2019\n\nBut his Soul answered him, \u2018Be at peace, be at peace.\u2019\n\nAnd on the evening of the third day they came to a city, and the young\nFisherman said to his Soul, \u2018Is this the city in which she dances of whom\nthou didst speak to me?\u2019\n\nAnd his Soul answered him, \u2018It may be that it is in this city, therefore\nlet us enter in.\u2019\n\nSo they entered in and passed through the streets, but nowhere could the\nyoung Fisherman find the river or the inn that stood by its side.  And\nthe people of the city looked curiously at him, and he grew afraid and\nsaid to his Soul, \u2018Let us go hence, for she who dances with white feet is\nnot here.\u2019\n\nBut his Soul answered, \u2018Nay, but let us tarry, for the night is dark and\nthere will be robbers on the way.\u2019\n\nSo he sat him down in the market-place and rested, and after a time there\nwent by a hooded merchant who had a cloak of cloth of Tartary, and bare a\nlantern of pierced horn at the end of a jointed reed.  And the merchant\nsaid to him, \u2018Why dost thou sit in the market-place, seeing that the\nbooths are closed and the bales corded?\u2019\n\nAnd the young Fisherman answered him, \u2018I can find no inn in this city,\nnor have I any kinsman who might give me shelter.\u2019\n\n\u2018Are we not all kinsmen?\u2019 said the merchant.  \u2018And did not one God make\nus?  Therefore come with me, for I have a guest-chamber.\u2019\n\nSo the young Fisherman rose up and followed the merchant to his house.\nAnd when he had passed through a garden of pomegranates and entered into\nthe house, the merchant brought him rose-water in a copper dish that he\nmight wash his hands, and ripe melons that he might quench his thirst,\nand set a bowl of rice and a piece of roasted kid before him.\n\nAnd after that he had finished, the merchant led him to the\nguest-chamber, and bade him sleep and be at rest.  And the young\nFisherman gave him thanks, and kissed the ring that was on his hand, and\nflung himself down on the carpets of dyed goat\u2019s-hair.  And when he had\ncovered himself with a covering of black lamb\u2019s-wool he fell asleep.\n\nAnd three hours before dawn, and while it was still night, his Soul waked\nhim and said to him, \u2018Rise up and go to the room of the merchant, even to\nthe room in which he sleepeth, and slay him, and take from him his gold,\nfor we have need of it.\u2019\n\nAnd the young Fisherman rose up and crept towards the room of the\nmerchant, and over the feet of the merchant there was lying a curved\nsword, and the tray by the side of the merchant held nine purses of gold.\nAnd he reached out his hand and touched the sword, and when he touched it\nthe merchant started and awoke, and leaping up seized himself the sword\nand cried to the young Fisherman, \u2018Dost thou return evil for good, and\npay with the shedding of blood for the kindness that I have shown thee?\u2019\n\nAnd his Soul said to the young Fisherman, \u2018Strike him,\u2019 and he struck him\nso that he swooned and he seized then the nine purses of gold, and fled\nhastily through the garden of pomegranates, and set his face to the star\nthat is the star of morning.\n\nAnd when they had gone a league from the city, the young Fisherman beat\nhis breast, and said to his Soul, \u2018Why didst thou bid me slay the\nmerchant and take his gold?  Surely thou art evil.\u2019\n\nBut his Soul answered him, \u2018Be at peace, be at peace.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay,\u2019 cried the young Fisherman, \u2018I may not be at peace, for all that\nthou hast made me to do I hate.  Thee also I hate, and I bid thee tell me\nwherefore thou hast wrought with me in this wise.\u2019\n\nAnd his Soul answered him, \u2018When thou didst send me forth into the world\nthou gavest me no heart, so I learned to do all these things and love\nthem.\u2019\n\n\u2018What sayest thou?\u2019 murmured the young Fisherman.\n\n\u2018Thou knowest,\u2019 answered his Soul, \u2018thou knowest it well.  Hast thou\nforgotten that thou gavest me no heart?  I trow not.  And so trouble not\nthyself nor me, but be at peace, for there is no pain that thou shalt not\ngive away, nor any pleasure that thou shalt not receive.\u2019\n\nAnd when the young Fisherman heard these words he trembled and said to\nhis Soul, \u2018Nay, but thou art evil, and hast made me forget my love, and\nhast tempted me with temptations, and hast set my feet in the ways of\nsin.\u2019\n\nAnd his Soul answered him, \u2018Thou hast not forgotten that when thou didst\nsend me forth into the world thou gavest me no heart.  Come, let us go to\nanother city, and make merry, for we have nine purses of gold.\u2019\n\nBut the young Fisherman took the nine purses of gold, and flung them\ndown, and trampled on them.\n\n\u2018Nay,\u2019 he cried, \u2018but I will have nought to do with thee, nor will I\njourney with thee anywhere, but even as I sent thee away before, so will\nI send thee away now, for thou hast wrought me no good.\u2019  And he turned\nhis back to the moon, and with the little knife that had the handle of\ngreen viper\u2019s skin he strove to cut from his feet that shadow of the body\nwhich is the body of the Soul.\n\nYet his Soul stirred not from him, nor paid heed to his command, but said\nto him, \u2018The spell that the Witch told thee avails thee no more, for I\nmay not leave thee, nor mayest thou drive me forth.  Once in his life may\na man send his Soul away, but he who receiveth back his Soul must keep it\nwith him for ever, and this is his punishment and his reward.\u2019\n\nAnd the young Fisherman grew pale and clenched his hands and cried, \u2018She\nwas a false Witch in that she told me not that.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay,\u2019 answered his Soul, \u2018but she was true to Him she worships, and\nwhose servant she will be ever.\u2019\n\nAnd when the young Fisherman knew that he could no longer get rid of his\nSoul, and that it was an evil Soul and would abide with him always, he\nfell upon the ground weeping bitterly.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd when it was day the young Fisherman rose up and said to his Soul, \u2018I\nwill bind my hands that I may not do thy bidding, and close my lips that\nI may not speak thy words, and I will return to the place where she whom\nI love has her dwelling.  Even to the sea will I return, and to the\nlittle bay where she is wont to sing, and I will call to her and tell her\nthe evil I have done and the evil thou hast wrought on me.\u2019\n\nAnd his Soul tempted him and said, \u2018Who is thy love, that thou shouldst\nreturn to her?  The world has many fairer than she is.  There are the\ndancing-girls of Samaris who dance in the manner of all kinds of birds\nand beasts.  Their feet are painted with henna, and in their hands they\nhave little copper bells.  They laugh while they dance, and their\nlaughter is as clear as the laughter of water.  Come with me and I will\nshow them to thee.  For what is this trouble of thine about the things of\nsin?  Is that which is pleasant to eat not made for the eater?  Is there\npoison in that which is sweet to drink?  Trouble not thyself, but come\nwith me to another city.  There is a little city hard by in which there\nis a garden of tulip-trees.  And there dwell in this comely garden white\npeacocks and peacocks that have blue breasts.  Their tails when they\nspread them to the sun are like disks of ivory and like gilt disks.  And\nshe who feeds them dances for their pleasure, and sometimes she dances on\nher hands and at other times she dances with her feet.  Her eyes are\ncoloured with stibium, and her nostrils are shaped like the wings of a\nswallow.  From a hook in one of her nostrils hangs a flower that is\ncarved out of a pearl.  She laughs while she dances, and the silver rings\nthat are about her ankles tinkle like bells of silver.  And so trouble\nnot thyself any more, but come with me to this city.\u2019\n\nBut the young Fisherman answered not his Soul, but closed his lips with\nthe seal of silence and with a tight cord bound his hands, and journeyed\nback to the place from which he had come, even to the little bay where\nhis love had been wont to sing.  And ever did his Soul tempt him by the\nway, but he made it no answer, nor would he do any of the wickedness that\nit sought to make him to do, so great was the power of the love that was\nwithin him.\n\nAnd when he had reached the shore of the sea, he loosed the cord from his\nhands, and took the seal of silence from his lips, and called to the\nlittle Mermaid.  But she came not to his call, though he called to her\nall day long and besought her.\n\nAnd his Soul mocked him and said, \u2018Surely thou hast but little joy out of\nthy love.  Thou art as one who in time of death pours water into a broken\nvessel.  Thou givest away what thou hast, and nought is given to thee in\nreturn.  It were better for thee to come with me, for I know where the\nValley of Pleasure lies, and what things are wrought there.\u2019\n\nBut the young Fisherman answered not his Soul, but in a cleft of the rock\nhe built himself a house of wattles, and abode there for the space of a\nyear.  And every morning he called to the Mermaid, and every noon he\ncalled to her again, and at night-time he spake her name.  Yet never did\nshe rise out of the sea to meet him, nor in any place of the sea could he\nfind her though he sought for her in the caves and in the green water, in\nthe pools of the tide and in the wells that are at the bottom of the\ndeep.\n\nAnd ever did his Soul tempt him with evil, and whisper of terrible\nthings.  Yet did it not prevail against him, so great was the power of\nhis love.\n\nAnd after the year was over, the Soul thought within himself, \u2018I have\ntempted my master with evil, and his love is stronger than I am.  I will\ntempt him now with good, and it may be that he will come with me.\u2019\n\nSo he spake to the young Fisherman and said, \u2018I have told thee of the joy\nof the world, and thou hast turned a deaf ear to me.  Suffer me now to\ntell thee of the world\u2019s pain, and it may be that thou wilt hearken.  For\nof a truth pain is the Lord of this world, nor is there any one who\nescapes from its net.  There be some who lack raiment, and others who\nlack bread.  There be widows who sit in purple, and widows who sit in\nrags.  To and fro over the fens go the lepers, and they are cruel to each\nother.  The beggars go up and down on the highways, and their wallets are\nempty.  Through the streets of the cities walks Famine, and the Plague\nsits at their gates.  Come, let us go forth and mend these things, and\nmake them not to be.  Wherefore shouldst thou tarry here calling to thy\nlove, seeing she comes not to thy call?  And what is love, that thou\nshouldst set this high store upon it?\u2019\n\nBut the young Fisherman answered it nought, so great was the power of his\nlove.  And every morning he called to the Mermaid, and every noon he\ncalled to her again, and at night-time he spake her name.  Yet never did\nshe rise out of the sea to meet him, nor in any place of the sea could he\nfind her, though he sought for her in the rivers of the sea, and in the\nvalleys that are under the waves, in the sea that the night makes purple,\nand in the sea that the dawn leaves grey.\n\nAnd after the second year was over, the Soul said to the young Fisherman\nat night-time, and as he sat in the wattled house alone, \u2018Lo! now I have\ntempted thee with evil, and I have tempted thee with good, and thy love\nis stronger than I am.  Wherefore will I tempt thee no longer, but I pray\nthee to suffer me to enter thy heart, that I may be one with thee even as\nbefore.\u2019\n\n\u2018Surely thou mayest enter,\u2019 said the young Fisherman, \u2018for in the days\nwhen with no heart thou didst go through the world thou must have much\nsuffered.\u2019\n\n\u2018Alas!\u2019 cried his Soul, \u2018I can find no place of entrance, so compassed\nabout with love is this heart of thine.\u2019\n\n\u2018Yet I would that I could help thee,\u2019 said the young Fisherman.\n\nAnd as he spake there came a great cry of mourning from the sea, even the\ncry that men hear when one of the Sea-folk is dead.  And the young\nFisherman leapt up, and left his wattled house, and ran down to the\nshore.  And the black waves came hurrying to the shore, bearing with them\na burden that was whiter than silver.  White as the surf it was, and like\na flower it tossed on the waves.  And the surf took it from the waves,\nand the foam took it from the surf, and the shore received it, and lying\nat his feet the young Fisherman saw the body of the little Mermaid.  Dead\nat his feet it was lying.\n\nWeeping as one smitten with pain he flung himself down beside it, and he\nkissed the cold red of the mouth, and toyed with the wet amber of the\nhair.  He flung himself down beside it on the sand, weeping as one\ntrembling with joy, and in his brown arms he held it to his breast.  Cold\nwere the lips, yet he kissed them.  Salt was the honey of the hair, yet\nhe tasted it with a bitter joy.  He kissed the closed eyelids, and the\nwild spray that lay upon their cups was less salt than his tears.\n\nAnd to the dead thing he made confession.  Into the shells of its ears he\npoured the harsh wine of his tale.  He put the little hands round his\nneck, and with his fingers he touched the thin reed of the throat.\nBitter, bitter was his joy, and full of strange gladness was his pain.\n\nThe black sea came nearer, and the white foam moaned like a leper.  With\nwhite claws of foam the sea grabbled at the shore.  From the palace of\nthe Sea-King came the cry of mourning again, and far out upon the sea the\ngreat Tritons blew hoarsely upon their horns.\n\n\u2018Flee away,\u2019 said his Soul, \u2018for ever doth the sea come nigher, and if\nthou tarriest it will slay thee.  Flee away, for I am afraid, seeing that\nthy heart is closed against me by reason of the greatness of thy love.\nFlee away to a place of safety.  Surely thou wilt not send me without a\nheart into another world?\u2019\n\nBut the young Fisherman listened not to his Soul, but called on the\nlittle Mermaid and said, \u2018Love is better than wisdom, and more precious\nthan riches, and fairer than the feet of the daughters of men.  The fires\ncannot destroy it, nor can the waters quench it.  I called on thee at\ndawn, and thou didst not come to my call.  The moon heard thy name, yet\nhadst thou no heed of me.  For evilly had I left thee, and to my own hurt\nhad I wandered away.  Yet ever did thy love abide with me, and ever was\nit strong, nor did aught prevail against it, though I have looked upon\nevil and looked upon good.  And now that thou art dead, surely I will die\nwith thee also.\u2019\n\nAnd his Soul besought him to depart, but he would not, so great was his\nlove.  And the sea came nearer, and sought to cover him with its waves,\nand when he knew that the end was at hand he kissed with mad lips the\ncold lips of the Mermaid, and the heart that was within him brake.  And\nas through the fulness of his love his heart did break, the Soul found an\nentrance and entered in, and was one with him even as before.  And the\nsea covered the young Fisherman with its waves.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd in the morning the Priest went forth to bless the sea, for it had\nbeen troubled.  And with him went the monks and the musicians, and the\ncandle-bearers, and the swingers of censers, and a great company.\n\nAnd when the Priest reached the shore he saw the young Fisherman lying\ndrowned in the surf, and clasped in his arms was the body of the little\nMermaid.  And he drew back frowning, and having made the sign of the\ncross, he cried aloud and said, \u2018I will not bless the sea nor anything\nthat is in it.  Accursed be the Sea-folk, and accursed be all they who\ntraffic with them.  And as for him who for love\u2019s sake forsook God, and\nso lieth here with his leman slain by God\u2019s judgment, take up his body\nand the body of his leman, and bury them in the corner of the Field of\nthe Fullers, and set no mark above them, nor sign of any kind, that none\nmay know the place of their resting.  For accursed were they in their\nlives, and accursed shall they be in their deaths also.\u2019\n\nAnd the people did as he commanded them, and in the corner of the Field\nof the Fullers, where no sweet herbs grew, they dug a deep pit, and laid\nthe dead things within it.\n\nAnd when the third year was over, and on a day that was a holy day, the\nPriest went up to the chapel, that he might show to the people the wounds\nof the Lord, and speak to them about the wrath of God.\n\nAnd when he had robed himself with his robes, and entered in and bowed\nhimself before the altar, he saw that the altar was covered with strange\nflowers that never had been seen before.  Strange were they to look at,\nand of curious beauty, and their beauty troubled him, and their odour was\nsweet in his nostrils.  And he felt glad, and understood not why he was\nglad.\n\nAnd after that he had opened the tabernacle, and incensed the monstrance\nthat was in it, and shown the fair wafer to the people, and hid it again\nbehind the veil of veils, he began to speak to the people, desiring to\nspeak to them of the wrath of God.  But the beauty of the white flowers\ntroubled him, and their odour was sweet in his nostrils, and there came\nanother word into his lips, and he spake not of the wrath of God, but of\nthe God whose name is Love.  And why he so spake, he knew not.\n\nAnd when he had finished his word the people wept, and the Priest went\nback to the sacristy, and his eyes were full of tears.  And the deacons\ncame in and began to unrobe him, and took from him the alb and the\ngirdle, the maniple and the stole.  And he stood as one in a dream.\n\nAnd after that they had unrobed him, he looked at them and said, \u2018What\nare the flowers that stand on the altar, and whence do they come?\u2019\n\nAnd they answered him, \u2018What flowers they are we cannot tell, but they\ncome from the corner of the Fullers\u2019 Field.\u2019  And the Priest trembled,\nand returned to his own house and prayed.\n\nAnd in the morning, while it was still dawn, he went forth with the monks\nand the musicians, and the candle-bearers and the swingers of censers,\nand a great company, and came to the shore of the sea, and blessed the\nsea, and all the wild things that are in it.  The Fauns also he blessed,\nand the little things that dance in the woodland, and the bright-eyed\nthings that peer through the leaves.  All the things in God\u2019s world he\nblessed, and the people were filled with joy and wonder.  Yet never again\nin the corner of the Fullers\u2019 Field grew flowers of any kind, but the\nfield remained barren even as before.  Nor came the Sea-folk into the bay\nas they had been wont to do, for they went to another part of the sea.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STAR-CHILD\n\n\n                                    TO\n                           MISS MARGOT TENNANT\n                              [MRS. ASQUITH]\n\nONCE upon a time two poor Woodcutters were making their way home through\na great pine-forest.  It was winter, and a night of bitter cold.  The\nsnow lay thick upon the ground, and upon the branches of the trees: the\nfrost kept snapping the little twigs on either side of them, as they\npassed: and when they came to the Mountain-Torrent she was hanging\nmotionless in air, for the Ice-King had kissed her.\n\nSo cold was it that even the animals and the birds did not know what to\nmake of it.\n\n\u2018Ugh!\u2019 snarled the Wolf, as he limped through the brushwood with his tail\nbetween his legs, \u2018this is perfectly monstrous weather.  Why doesn\u2019t the\nGovernment look to it?\u2019\n\n\u2018Weet! weet! weet!\u2019 twittered the green Linnets, \u2018the old Earth is dead\nand they have laid her out in her white shroud.\u2019\n\n\u2018The Earth is going to be married, and this is her bridal dress,\u2019\nwhispered the Turtle-doves to each other.  Their little pink feet were\nquite frost-bitten, but they felt that it was their duty to take a\nromantic view of the situation.\n\n\u2018Nonsense!\u2019 growled the Wolf.  \u2018I tell you that it is all the fault of\nthe Government, and if you don\u2019t believe me I shall eat you.\u2019  The Wolf\nhad a thoroughly practical mind, and was never at a loss for a good\nargument.\n\n\u2018Well, for my own part,\u2019 said the Woodpecker, who was a born philosopher,\n\u2018I don\u2019t care an atomic theory for explanations.  If a thing is so, it is\nso, and at present it is terribly cold.\u2019\n\nTerribly cold it certainly was.  The little Squirrels, who lived inside\nthe tall fir-tree, kept rubbing each other\u2019s noses to keep themselves\nwarm, and the Rabbits curled themselves up in their holes, and did not\nventure even to look out of doors.  The only people who seemed to enjoy\nit were the great horned Owls.  Their feathers were quite stiff with\nrime, but they did not mind, and they rolled their large yellow eyes, and\ncalled out to each other across the forest, \u2018Tu-whit!  Tu-whoo!  Tu-whit!\nTu-whoo! what delightful weather we are having!\u2019\n\nOn and on went the two Woodcutters, blowing lustily upon their fingers,\nand stamping with their huge iron-shod boots upon the caked snow.  Once\nthey sank into a deep drift, and came out as white as millers are, when\nthe stones are grinding; and once they slipped on the hard smooth ice\nwhere the marsh-water was frozen, and their faggots fell out of their\nbundles, and they had to pick them up and bind them together again; and\nonce they thought that they had lost their way, and a great terror seized\non them, for they knew that the Snow is cruel to those who sleep in her\narms.  But they put their trust in the good Saint Martin, who watches\nover all travellers, and retraced their steps, and went warily, and at\nlast they reached the outskirts of the forest, and saw, far down in the\nvalley beneath them, the lights of the village in which they dwelt.\n\nSo overjoyed were they at their deliverance that they laughed aloud, and\nthe Earth seemed to them like a flower of silver, and the Moon like a\nflower of gold.\n\nYet, after that they had laughed they became sad, for they remembered\ntheir poverty, and one of them said to the other, \u2018Why did we make merry,\nseeing that life is for the rich, and not for such as we are?  Better\nthat we had died of cold in the forest, or that some wild beast had\nfallen upon us and slain us.\u2019\n\n\u2018Truly,\u2019 answered his companion, \u2018much is given to some, and little is\ngiven to others.  Injustice has parcelled out the world, nor is there\nequal division of aught save of sorrow.\u2019\n\nBut as they were bewailing their misery to each other this strange thing\nhappened.  There fell from heaven a very bright and beautiful star.  It\nslipped down the side of the sky, passing by the other stars in its\ncourse, and, as they watched it wondering, it seemed to them to sink\nbehind a clump of willow-trees that stood hard by a little sheepfold no\nmore than a stone\u2019s-throw away.\n\n\u2018Why! there is a crook of gold for whoever finds it,\u2019 they cried, and\nthey set to and ran, so eager were they for the gold.\n\nAnd one of them ran faster than his mate, and outstripped him, and forced\nhis way through the willows, and came out on the other side, and lo!\nthere was indeed a thing of gold lying on the white snow.  So he hastened\ntowards it, and stooping down placed his hands upon it, and it was a\ncloak of golden tissue, curiously wrought with stars, and wrapped in many\nfolds.  And he cried out to his comrade that he had found the treasure\nthat had fallen from the sky, and when his comrade had come up, they sat\nthem down in the snow, and loosened the folds of the cloak that they\nmight divide the pieces of gold.  But, alas! no gold was in it, nor\nsilver, nor, indeed, treasure of any kind, but only a little child who\nwas asleep.\n\nAnd one of them said to the other: \u2018This is a bitter ending to our hope,\nnor have we any good fortune, for what doth a child profit to a man?  Let\nus leave it here, and go our way, seeing that we are poor men, and have\nchildren of our own whose bread we may not give to another.\u2019\n\nBut his companion answered him: \u2018Nay, but it were an evil thing to leave\nthe child to perish here in the snow, and though I am as poor as thou\nart, and have many mouths to feed, and but little in the pot, yet will I\nbring it home with me, and my wife shall have care of it.\u2019\n\nSo very tenderly he took up the child, and wrapped the cloak around it to\nshield it from the harsh cold, and made his way down the hill to the\nvillage, his comrade marvelling much at his foolishness and softness of\nheart.\n\nAnd when they came to the village, his comrade said to him, \u2018Thou hast\nthe child, therefore give me the cloak, for it is meet that we should\nshare.\u2019\n\nBut he answered him: \u2018Nay, for the cloak is neither mine nor thine, but\nthe child\u2019s only,\u2019 and he bade him Godspeed, and went to his own house\nand knocked.\n\nAnd when his wife opened the door and saw that her husband had returned\nsafe to her, she put her arms round his neck and kissed him, and took\nfrom his back the bundle of faggots, and brushed the snow off his boots,\nand bade him come in.\n\nBut he said to her, \u2018I have found something in the forest, and I have\nbrought it to thee to have care of it,\u2019 and he stirred not from the\nthreshold.\n\n\u2018What is it?\u2019 she cried.  \u2018Show it to me, for the house is bare, and we\nhave need of many things.\u2019  And he drew the cloak back, and showed her\nthe sleeping child.\n\n\u2018Alack, goodman!\u2019 she murmured, \u2018have we not children of our own, that\nthou must needs bring a changeling to sit by the hearth?  And who knows\nif it will not bring us bad fortune?  And how shall we tend it?\u2019  And she\nwas wroth against him.\n\n\u2018Nay, but it is a Star-Child,\u2019 he answered; and he told her the strange\nmanner of the finding of it.\n\nBut she would not be appeased, but mocked at him, and spoke angrily, and\ncried: \u2018Our children lack bread, and shall we feed the child of another?\nWho is there who careth for us?  And who giveth us food?\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay, but God careth for the sparrows even, and feedeth them,\u2019 he\nanswered.\n\n\u2018Do not the sparrows die of hunger in the winter?\u2019 she asked.  \u2018And is it\nnot winter now?\u2019\n\nAnd the man answered nothing, but stirred not from the threshold.\n\nAnd a bitter wind from the forest came in through the open door, and made\nher tremble, and she shivered, and said to him: \u2018Wilt thou not close the\ndoor?  There cometh a bitter wind into the house, and I am cold.\u2019\n\n\u2018Into a house where a heart is hard cometh there not always a bitter\nwind?\u2019 he asked.  And the woman answered him nothing, but crept closer to\nthe fire.\n\nAnd after a time she turned round and looked at him, and her eyes were\nfull of tears.  And he came in swiftly, and placed the child in her arms,\nand she kissed it, and laid it in a little bed where the youngest of\ntheir own children was lying.  And on the morrow the Woodcutter took the\ncurious cloak of gold and placed it in a great chest, and a chain of\namber that was round the child\u2019s neck his wife took and set it in the\nchest also.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nSo the Star-Child was brought up with the children of the Woodcutter, and\nsat at the same board with them, and was their playmate.  And every year\nhe became more beautiful to look at, so that all those who dwelt in the\nvillage were filled with wonder, for, while they were swarthy and\nblack-haired, he was white and delicate as sawn ivory, and his curls were\nlike the rings of the daffodil.  His lips, also, were like the petals of\na red flower, and his eyes were like violets by a river of pure water,\nand his body like the narcissus of a field where the mower comes not.\n\nYet did his beauty work him evil.  For he grew proud, and cruel, and\nselfish.  The children of the Woodcutter, and the other children of the\nvillage, he despised, saying that they were of mean parentage, while he\nwas noble, being sprang from a Star, and he made himself master over\nthem, and called them his servants.  No pity had he for the poor, or for\nthose who were blind or maimed or in any way afflicted, but would cast\nstones at them and drive them forth on to the highway, and bid them beg\ntheir bread elsewhere, so that none save the outlaws came twice to that\nvillage to ask for alms.  Indeed, he was as one enamoured of beauty, and\nwould mock at the weakly and ill-favoured, and make jest of them; and\nhimself he loved, and in summer, when the winds were still, he would lie\nby the well in the priest\u2019s orchard and look down at the marvel of his\nown face, and laugh for the pleasure he had in his fairness.\n\nOften did the Woodcutter and his wife chide him, and say: \u2018We did not\ndeal with thee as thou dealest with those who are left desolate, and have\nnone to succour them.  Wherefore art thou so cruel to all who need pity?\u2019\n\nOften did the old priest send for him, and seek to teach him the love of\nliving things, saying to him: \u2018The fly is thy brother.  Do it no harm.\nThe wild birds that roam through the forest have their freedom.  Snare\nthem not for thy pleasure.  God made the blind-worm and the mole, and\neach has its place.  Who art thou to bring pain into God\u2019s world?  Even\nthe cattle of the field praise Him.\u2019\n\nBut the Star-Child heeded not their words, but would frown and flout, and\ngo back to his companions, and lead them.  And his companions followed\nhim, for he was fair, and fleet of foot, and could dance, and pipe, and\nmake music.  And wherever the Star-Child led them they followed, and\nwhatever the Star-Child bade them do, that did they.  And when he pierced\nwith a sharp reed the dim eyes of the mole, they laughed, and when he\ncast stones at the leper they laughed also.  And in all things he ruled\nthem, and they became hard of heart even as he was.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nNow there passed one day through the village a poor beggar-woman.  Her\ngarments were torn and ragged, and her feet were bleeding from the rough\nroad on which she had travelled, and she was in very evil plight.  And\nbeing weary she sat her down under a chestnut-tree to rest.\n\nBut when the Star-Child saw her, he said to his companions, \u2018See!  There\nsitteth a foul beggar-woman under that fair and green-leaved tree.  Come,\nlet us drive her hence, for she is ugly and ill-favoured.\u2019\n\nSo he came near and threw stones at her, and mocked her, and she looked\nat him with terror in her eyes, nor did she move her gaze from him.  And\nwhen the Woodcutter, who was cleaving logs in a haggard hard by, saw what\nthe Star-Child was doing, he ran up and rebuked him, and said to him:\n\u2018Surely thou art hard of heart and knowest not mercy, for what evil has\nthis poor woman done to thee that thou shouldst treat her in this wise?\u2019\n\nAnd the Star-Child grew red with anger, and stamped his foot upon the\nground, and said, \u2018Who art thou to question me what I do?  I am no son of\nthine to do thy bidding.\u2019\n\n\u2018Thou speakest truly,\u2019 answered the Woodcutter, \u2018yet did I show thee pity\nwhen I found thee in the forest.\u2019\n\nAnd when the woman heard these words she gave a loud cry, and fell into a\nswoon.  And the Woodcutter carried her to his own house, and his wife had\ncare of her, and when she rose up from the swoon into which she had\nfallen, they set meat and drink before her, and bade her have comfort.\n\nBut she would neither eat nor drink, but said to the Woodcutter, \u2018Didst\nthou not say that the child was found in the forest?  And was it not ten\nyears from this day?\u2019\n\nAnd the Woodcutter answered, \u2018Yea, it was in the forest that I found him,\nand it is ten years from this day.\u2019\n\n\u2018And what signs didst thou find with him?\u2019 she cried.  \u2018Bare he not upon\nhis neck a chain of amber?  Was not round him a cloak of gold tissue\nbroidered with stars?\u2019\n\n\u2018Truly,\u2019 answered the Woodcutter, \u2018it was even as thou sayest.\u2019  And he\ntook the cloak and the amber chain from the chest where they lay, and\nshowed them to her.\n\nAnd when she saw them she wept for joy, and said, \u2018He is my little son\nwhom I lost in the forest.  I pray thee send for him quickly, for in\nsearch of him have I wandered over the whole world.\u2019\n\nSo the Woodcutter and his wife went out and called to the Star-Child, and\nsaid to him, \u2018Go into the house, and there shalt thou find thy mother,\nwho is waiting for thee.\u2019\n\nSo he ran in, filled with wonder and great gladness.  But when he saw her\nwho was waiting there, he laughed scornfully and said, \u2018Why, where is my\nmother?  For I see none here but this vile beggar-woman.\u2019\n\nAnd the woman answered him, \u2018I am thy mother.\u2019\n\n\u2018Thou art mad to say so,\u2019 cried the Star-Child angrily.  \u2018I am no son of\nthine, for thou art a beggar, and ugly, and in rags.  Therefore get thee\nhence, and let me see thy foul face no more.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay, but thou art indeed my little son, whom I bare in the forest,\u2019 she\ncried, and she fell on her knees, and held out her arms to him.  \u2018The\nrobbers stole thee from me, and left thee to die,\u2019 she murmured, \u2018but I\nrecognised thee when I saw thee, and the signs also have I recognised,\nthe cloak of golden tissue and the amber chain.  Therefore I pray thee\ncome with me, for over the whole world have I wandered in search of thee.\nCome with me, my son, for I have need of thy love.\u2019\n\nBut the Star-Child stirred not from his place, but shut the doors of his\nheart against her, nor was there any sound heard save the sound of the\nwoman weeping for pain.\n\nAnd at last he spoke to her, and his voice was hard and bitter.  \u2018If in\nvery truth thou art my mother,\u2019 he said, \u2018it had been better hadst thou\nstayed away, and not come here to bring me to shame, seeing that I\nthought I was the child of some Star, and not a beggar\u2019s child, as thou\ntellest me that I am.  Therefore get thee hence, and let me see thee no\nmore.\u2019\n\n\u2018Alas! my son,\u2019 she cried, \u2018wilt thou not kiss me before I go?  For I\nhave suffered much to find thee.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay,\u2019 said the Star-Child, \u2018but thou art too foul to look at, and rather\nwould I kiss the adder or the toad than thee.\u2019\n\nSo the woman rose up, and went away into the forest weeping bitterly, and\nwhen the Star-Child saw that she had gone, he was glad, and ran back to\nhis playmates that he might play with them.\n\nBut when they beheld him coming, they mocked him and said, \u2018Why, thou art\nas foul as the toad, and as loathsome as the adder.  Get thee hence, for\nwe will not suffer thee to play with us,\u2019 and they drave him out of the\ngarden.\n\nAnd the Star-Child frowned and said to himself, \u2018What is this that they\nsay to me?  I will go to the well of water and look into it, and it shall\ntell me of my beauty.\u2019\n\nSo he went to the well of water and looked into it, and lo! his face was\nas the face of a toad, and his body was sealed like an adder.  And he\nflung himself down on the grass and wept, and said to himself, \u2018Surely\nthis has come upon me by reason of my sin.  For I have denied my mother,\nand driven her away, and been proud, and cruel to her.  Wherefore I will\ngo and seek her through the whole world, nor will I rest till I have\nfound her.\u2019\n\nAnd there came to him the little daughter of the Woodcutter, and she put\nher hand upon his shoulder and said, \u2018What doth it matter if thou hast\nlost thy comeliness?  Stay with us, and I will not mock at thee.\u2019\n\nAnd he said to her, \u2018Nay, but I have been cruel to my mother, and as a\npunishment has this evil been sent to me.  Wherefore I must go hence, and\nwander through the world till I find her, and she give me her\nforgiveness.\u2019\n\nSo he ran away into the forest and called out to his mother to come to\nhim, but there was no answer.  All day long he called to her, and, when\nthe sun set he lay down to sleep on a bed of leaves, and the birds and\nthe animals fled from him, for they remembered his cruelty, and he was\nalone save for the toad that watched him, and the slow adder that crawled\npast.\n\nAnd in the morning he rose up, and plucked some bitter berries from the\ntrees and ate them, and took his way through the great wood, weeping\nsorely.  And of everything that he met he made inquiry if perchance they\nhad seen his mother.\n\nHe said to the Mole, \u2018Thou canst go beneath the earth.  Tell me, is my\nmother there?\u2019\n\nAnd the Mole answered, \u2018Thou hast blinded mine eyes.  How should I know?\u2019\n\nHe said to the Linnet, \u2018Thou canst fly over the tops of the tall trees,\nand canst see the whole world.  Tell me, canst thou see my mother?\u2019\n\nAnd the Linnet answered, \u2018Thou hast clipt my wings for thy pleasure.  How\nshould I fly?\u2019\n\nAnd to the little Squirrel who lived in the fir-tree, and was lonely, he\nsaid, \u2018Where is my mother?\u2019\n\nAnd the Squirrel answered, \u2018Thou hast slain mine.  Dost thou seek to slay\nthine also?\u2019\n\nAnd the Star-Child wept and bowed his head, and prayed forgiveness of\nGod\u2019s things, and went on through the forest, seeking for the\nbeggar-woman.  And on the third day he came to the other side of the\nforest and went down into the plain.\n\nAnd when he passed through the villages the children mocked him, and\nthrew stones at him, and the carlots would not suffer him even to sleep\nin the byres lest he might bring mildew on the stored corn, so foul was\nhe to look at, and their hired men drave him away, and there was none who\nhad pity on him.  Nor could he hear anywhere of the beggar-woman who was\nhis mother, though for the space of three years he wandered over the\nworld, and often seemed to see her on the road in front of him, and would\ncall to her, and run after her till the sharp flints made his feet to\nbleed.  But overtake her he could not, and those who dwelt by the way did\never deny that they had seen her, or any like to her, and they made sport\nof his sorrow.\n\nFor the space of three years he wandered over the world, and in the world\nthere was neither love nor loving-kindness nor charity for him, but it\nwas even such a world as he had made for himself in the days of his great\npride.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd one evening he came to the gate of a strong-walled city that stood by\na river, and, weary and footsore though he was, he made to enter in.  But\nthe soldiers who stood on guard dropped their halberts across the\nentrance, and said roughly to him, \u2018What is thy business in the city?\u2019\n\n\u2018I am seeking for my mother,\u2019 he answered, \u2018and I pray ye to suffer me to\npass, for it may be that she is in this city.\u2019\n\nBut they mocked at him, and one of them wagged a black beard, and set\ndown his shield and cried, \u2018Of a truth, thy mother will not be merry when\nshe sees thee, for thou art more ill-favoured than the toad of the marsh,\nor the adder that crawls in the fen.  Get thee gone.  Get thee gone.  Thy\nmother dwells not in this city.\u2019\n\nAnd another, who held a yellow banner in his hand, said to him, \u2018Who is\nthy mother, and wherefore art thou seeking for her?\u2019\n\nAnd he answered, \u2018My mother is a beggar even as I am, and I have treated\nher evilly, and I pray ye to suffer me to pass that she may give me her\nforgiveness, if it be that she tarrieth in this city.\u2019  But they would\nnot, and pricked him with their spears.\n\nAnd, as he turned away weeping, one whose armour was inlaid with gilt\nflowers, and on whose helmet couched a lion that had wings, came up and\nmade inquiry of the soldiers who it was who had sought entrance.  And\nthey said to him, \u2018It is a beggar and the child of a beggar, and we have\ndriven him away.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay,\u2019 he cried, laughing, \u2018but we will sell the foul thing for a slave,\nand his price shall be the price of a bowl of sweet wine.\u2019\n\nAnd an old and evil-visaged man who was passing by called out, and said,\n\u2018I will buy him for that price,\u2019 and, when he had paid the price, he took\nthe Star-Child by the hand and led him into the city.\n\nAnd after that they had gone through many streets they came to a little\ndoor that was set in a wall that was covered with a pomegranate tree.\nAnd the old man touched the door with a ring of graved jasper and it\nopened, and they went down five steps of brass into a garden filled with\nblack poppies and green jars of burnt clay.  And the old man took then\nfrom his turban a scarf of figured silk, and bound with it the eyes of\nthe Star-Child, and drave him in front of him.  And when the scarf was\ntaken off his eyes, the Star-Child found himself in a dungeon, that was\nlit by a lantern of horn.\n\nAnd the old man set before him some mouldy bread on a trencher and said,\n\u2018Eat,\u2019 and some brackish water in a cup and said, \u2018Drink,\u2019 and when he\nhad eaten and drunk, the old man went out, locking the door behind him\nand fastening it with an iron chain.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd on the morrow the old man, who was indeed the subtlest of the\nmagicians of Libya and had learned his art from one who dwelt in the\ntombs of the Nile, came in to him and frowned at him, and said, \u2018In a\nwood that is nigh to the gate of this city of Giaours there are three\npieces of gold.  One is of white gold, and another is of yellow gold, and\nthe gold of the third one is red.  To-day thou shalt bring me the piece\nof white gold, and if thou bringest it not back, I will beat thee with a\nhundred stripes.  Get thee away quickly, and at sunset I will be waiting\nfor thee at the door of the garden.  See that thou bringest the white\ngold, or it shall go ill with thee, for thou art my slave, and I have\nbought thee for the price of a bowl of sweet wine.\u2019  And he bound the\neyes of the Star-Child with the scarf of figured silk, and led him\nthrough the house, and through the garden of poppies, and up the five\nsteps of brass.  And having opened the little door with his ring he set\nhim in the street.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd the Star-Child went out of the gate of the city, and came to the wood\nof which the Magician had spoken to him.\n\nNow this wood was very fair to look at from without, and seemed full of\nsinging birds and of sweet-scented flowers, and the Star-Child entered it\ngladly.  Yet did its beauty profit him little, for wherever he went harsh\nbriars and thorns shot up from the ground and encompassed him, and evil\nnettles stung him, and the thistle pierced him with her daggers, so that\nhe was in sore distress.  Nor could he anywhere find the piece of white\ngold of which the Magician had spoken, though he sought for it from morn\nto noon, and from noon to sunset.  And at sunset he set his face towards\nhome, weeping bitterly, for he knew what fate was in store for him.\n\nBut when he had reached the outskirts of the wood, he heard from a\nthicket a cry as of some one in pain.  And forgetting his own sorrow he\nran back to the place, and saw there a little Hare caught in a trap that\nsome hunter had set for it.\n\nAnd the Star-Child had pity on it, and released it, and said to it, \u2018I am\nmyself but a slave, yet may I give thee thy freedom.\u2019\n\nAnd the Hare answered him, and said: \u2018Surely thou hast given me freedom,\nand what shall I give thee in return?\u2019\n\nAnd the Star-Child said to it, \u2018I am seeking for a piece of white gold,\nnor can I anywhere find it, and if I bring it not to my master he will\nbeat me.\u2019\n\n\u2018Come thou with me,\u2019 said the Hare, \u2018and I will lead thee to it, for I\nknow where it is hidden, and for what purpose.\u2019\n\nSo the Star-Child went with the Hare, and lo! in the cleft of a great\noak-tree he saw the piece of white gold that he was seeking.  And he was\nfilled with joy, and seized it, and said to the Hare, \u2018The service that I\ndid to thee thou hast rendered back again many times over, and the\nkindness that I showed thee thou hast repaid a hundred-fold.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay,\u2019 answered the Hare, \u2018but as thou dealt with me, so I did deal with\nthee,\u2019 and it ran away swiftly, and the Star-Child went towards the city.\n\nNow at the gate of the city there was seated one who was a leper.  Over\nhis face hung a cowl of grey linen, and through the eyelets his eyes\ngleamed like red coals.  And when he saw the Star-Child coming, he struck\nupon a wooden bowl, and clattered his bell, and called out to him, and\nsaid, \u2018Give me a piece of money, or I must die of hunger.  For they have\nthrust me out of the city, and there is no one who has pity on me.\u2019\n\n\u2018Alas!\u2019 cried the Star-Child, \u2018I have but one piece of money in my\nwallet, and if I bring it not to my master he will beat me, for I am his\nslave.\u2019\n\nBut the leper entreated him, and prayed of him, till the Star-Child had\npity, and gave him the piece of white gold.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nAnd when he came to the Magician\u2019s house, the Magician opened to him, and\nbrought him in, and said to him, \u2018Hast thou the piece of white gold?\u2019\nAnd the Star-Child answered, \u2018I have it not.\u2019  So the Magician fell upon\nhim, and beat him, and set before him an empty trencher, and said, \u2018Eat,\u2019\nand an empty cup, and said, \u2018Drink,\u2019 and flung him again into the\ndungeon.\n\nAnd on the morrow the Magician came to him, and said, \u2018If to-day thou\nbringest me not the piece of yellow gold, I will surely keep thee as my\nslave, and give thee three hundred stripes.\u2019\n\nSo the Star-Child went to the wood, and all day long he searched for the\npiece of yellow gold, but nowhere could he find it.  And at sunset he sat\nhim down and began to weep, and as he was weeping there came to him the\nlittle Hare that he had rescued from the trap.\n\nAnd the Hare said to him, \u2018Why art thou weeping?  And what dost thou seek\nin the wood?\u2019\n\nAnd the Star-Child answered, \u2018I am seeking for a piece of yellow gold\nthat is hidden here, and if I find it not my master will beat me, and\nkeep me as a slave.\u2019\n\n\u2018Follow me,\u2019 cried the Hare, and it ran through the wood till it came to\na pool of water.  And at the bottom of the pool the piece of yellow gold\nwas lying.\n\n\u2018How shall I thank thee?\u2019 said the Star-Child, \u2018for lo! this is the\nsecond time that you have succoured me.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay, but thou hadst pity on me first,\u2019 said the Hare, and it ran away\nswiftly.\n\nAnd the Star-Child took the piece of yellow gold, and put it in his\nwallet, and hurried to the city.  But the leper saw him coming, and ran\nto meet him, and knelt down and cried, \u2018Give me a piece of money or I\nshall die of hunger.\u2019\n\nAnd the Star-Child said to him, \u2018I have in my wallet but one piece of\nyellow gold, and if I bring it not to my master he will beat me and keep\nme as his slave.\u2019\n\nBut the leper entreated him sore, so that the Star-Child had pity on him,\nand gave him the piece of yellow gold.\n\nAnd when he came to the Magician\u2019s house, the Magician opened to him, and\nbrought him in, and said to him, \u2018Hast thou the piece of yellow gold?\u2019\nAnd the Star-Child said to him, \u2018I have it not.\u2019  So the Magician fell\nupon him, and beat him, and loaded him with chains, and cast him again\ninto the dungeon.\n\nAnd on the morrow the Magician came to him, and said, \u2018If to-day thou\nbringest me the piece of red gold I will set thee free, but if thou\nbringest it not I will surely slay thee.\u2019\n\nSo the Star-Child went to the wood, and all day long he searched for the\npiece of red gold, but nowhere could he find it.  And at evening he sat\nhim down and wept, and as he was weeping there came to him the little\nHare.\n\nAnd the Hare said to him, \u2018The piece of red gold that thou seekest is in\nthe cavern that is behind thee.  Therefore weep no more but be glad.\u2019\n\n\u2018How shall I reward thee?\u2019 cried the Star-Child, \u2018for lo! this is the\nthird time thou hast succoured me.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay, but thou hadst pity on me first,\u2019 said the Hare, and it ran away\nswiftly.\n\nAnd the Star-Child entered the cavern, and in its farthest corner he\nfound the piece of red gold.  So he put it in his wallet, and hurried to\nthe city.  And the leper seeing him coming, stood in the centre of the\nroad, and cried out, and said to him, \u2018Give me the piece of red money, or\nI must die,\u2019 and the Star-Child had pity on him again, and gave him the\npiece of red gold, saying, \u2018Thy need is greater than mine.\u2019  Yet was his\nheart heavy, for he knew what evil fate awaited him.\n\n                                * * * * *\n\nBut lo! as he passed through the gate of the city, the guards bowed down\nand made obeisance to him, saying, \u2018How beautiful is our lord!\u2019 and a\ncrowd of citizens followed him, and cried out, \u2018Surely there is none so\nbeautiful in the whole world!\u2019 so that the Star-Child wept, and said to\nhimself, \u2018They are mocking me, and making light of my misery.\u2019  And so\nlarge was the concourse of the people, that he lost the threads of his\nway, and found himself at last in a great square, in which there was a\npalace of a King.\n\nAnd the gate of the palace opened, and the priests and the high officers\nof the city ran forth to meet him, and they abased themselves before him,\nand said, \u2018Thou art our lord for whom we have been waiting, and the son\nof our King.\u2019\n\nAnd the Star-Child answered them and said, \u2018I am no king\u2019s son, but the\nchild of a poor beggar-woman.  And how say ye that I am beautiful, for I\nknow that I am evil to look at?\u2019\n\nThen he, whose armour was inlaid with gilt flowers, and on whose helmet\ncrouched a lion that had wings, held up a shield, and cried, \u2018How saith\nmy lord that he is not beautiful?\u2019\n\nAnd the Star-Child looked, and lo! his face was even as it had been, and\nhis comeliness had come back to him, and he saw that in his eyes which he\nhad not seen there before.\n\nAnd the priests and the high officers knelt down and said to him, \u2018It was\nprophesied of old that on this day should come he who was to rule over\nus.  Therefore, let our lord take this crown and this sceptre, and be in\nhis justice and mercy our King over us.\u2019\n\nBut he said to them, \u2018I am not worthy, for I have denied the mother who\nbare me, nor may I rest till I have found her, and known her forgiveness.\nTherefore, let me go, for I must wander again over the world, and may not\ntarry here, though ye bring me the crown and the sceptre.\u2019  And as he\nspake he turned his face from them towards the street that led to the\ngate of the city, and lo! amongst the crowd that pressed round the\nsoldiers, he saw the beggar-woman who was his mother, and at her side\nstood the leper, who had sat by the road.\n\nAnd a cry of joy broke from his lips, and he ran over, and kneeling down\nhe kissed the wounds on his mother\u2019s feet, and wet them with his tears.\nHe bowed his head in the dust, and sobbing, as one whose heart might\nbreak, he said to her: \u2018Mother, I denied thee in the hour of my pride.\nAccept me in the hour of my humility.  Mother, I gave thee hatred.  Do\nthou give me love.  Mother, I rejected thee.  Receive thy child now.\u2019\nBut the beggar-woman answered him not a word.\n\nAnd he reached out his hands, and clasped the white feet of the leper,\nand said to him: \u2018Thrice did I give thee of my mercy.  Bid my mother\nspeak to me once.\u2019  But the leper answered him not a word.\n\nAnd he sobbed again and said: \u2018Mother, my suffering is greater than I can\nbear.  Give me thy forgiveness, and let me go back to the forest.\u2019  And\nthe beggar-woman put her hand on his head, and said to him, \u2018Rise,\u2019 and\nthe leper put his hand on his head, and said to him, \u2018Rise,\u2019 also.\n\nAnd he rose up from his feet, and looked at them, and lo! they were a\nKing and a Queen.\n\nAnd the Queen said to him, \u2018This is thy father whom thou hast succoured.\u2019\n\nAnd the King said, \u2018This is thy mother whose feet thou hast washed with\nthy tears.\u2019  And they fell on his neck and kissed him, and brought him\ninto the palace and clothed him in fair raiment, and set the crown upon\nhis head, and the sceptre in his hand, and over the city that stood by\nthe river he ruled, and was its lord.  Much justice and mercy did he show\nto all, and the evil Magician he banished, and to the Woodcutter and his\nwife he sent many rich gifts, and to their children he gave high honour.\nNor would he suffer any to be cruel to bird or beast, but taught love and\nloving-kindness and charity, and to the poor he gave bread, and to the\nnaked he gave raiment, and there was peace and plenty in the land.\n\nYet ruled he not long, so great had been his suffering, and so bitter the\nfire of his testing, for after the space of three years he died.  And he\nwho came after him ruled evilly.","title":"A House of Pomegranates","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":33338}