A House of Pomegranates by Oscar Wilde (simple ebook reader TXT) 📕

class="calibre1">And the Chamberlain and the high officers of State came in and made

obeisance to him, and the pages brought him the robe of tissued

gold, and set the crown and the sceptre before him.

 

And the young King looked at them, and they were beautiful. More

beautiful were they than aught that he had ever seen. But he

remembered his dreams, and he said to his lords: ‘Take these

things away, for I will not wear them.’

 

And the courtiers were amazed, and some of them laughed, for they

thought that he was jesting.

 

But he spake sternly to them again, and said: ‘Take these things

away, and hide them from me. Though it be the day of my

coronation, I will not wear them. For on the loom of Sorrow, and

by the white hands of Pain, has this my robe been woven. There is

Blood in the heart of the ruby, and Death in the heart of the

pearl.’ And he told them his three dreams.

 

And when the courtiers heard them they looked at each other and

whispered, saying: ‘Surely he is mad; for what is a dream but a

dream, and a vision but a vision? They are not real things that

one should heed them. And what have we to do with the lives of

those who toil for us? Shall a man not eat bread till he has seen

the sower, nor drink wine till he has talked with the vinedresser?’

 

And the Chamberlain spake to the young King, and said, ‘My lord, I

pray thee set aside these black thoughts of thine, and put on this

fair robe, and set this crown upon thy head. For how shall the

people know that thou art a king, if thou hast not a king’s

raiment?’

 

And the young King looked at him. ‘Is it so, indeed?’ he

questioned. ‘Will they not know me for a king if I have not a

king’s raiment?’

 

‘They will not know thee, my lord,’ cried the Chamberlain.

 

‘I had thought that there had been men who were kinglike,’ he

answered, ‘but it may be as thou sayest. And yet I will not wear

this robe, nor will I be crowned with this crown, but even as I

came to the palace so will I go forth from it.’

 

And he bade them all leave him, save one page whom he kept as his

companion, a lad a year younger than himself. Him he kept for his

service, and when he had bathed himself in clear water, he opened a

great painted chest, and from it he took the leathern tunic and

rough sheepskin cloak that he had worn when he had watched on the

hillside the shaggy goats of the goatherd. These he put on, and in

his hand he took his rude shepherd’s staff.

 

And the little page opened his big blue eyes in wonder, and said

smiling to him, ‘My lord, I see thy robe and thy sceptre, but where

is thy crown?’

 

And the young King plucked a spray of wild briar that was climbing

over the balcony, and bent it, and made a circlet of it, and set it

on his own head.

 

‘This shall he my crown,’ he answered.

 

And thus attired he passed out of his chamber into the Great Hall,

where the nobles were waiting for him.

 

And the nobles made merry, and some of them cried out to him, ‘My

lord, the people wait for their king, and thou showest them a

beggar,’ and others were wroth and said, ‘He brings shame upon our

state, and is unworthy to be our master.’ But he answered them not

a word, but passed on, and went down the bright porphyry staircase,

and out through the gates of bronze, and mounted upon his horse,

and rode towards the cathedral, the little page running beside him.

 

And the people laughed and said, ‘It is the King’s fool who is

riding by,’ and they mocked him.

 

And he drew rein and said, ‘Nay, but I am the King.’ And he told

them his three dreams.

 

And a man came out of the crowd and spake bitterly to him, and

said, ‘Sir, knowest thou not that out of the luxury of the rich

cometh the life of the poor? By your pomp we are nurtured, and

your vices give us bread. To toil for a hard master is bitter, but

to have no master to toil for is more bitter still. Thinkest thou

that the ravens will feed us? And what cure hast thou for these

things? Wilt thou say to the buyer, “Thou shalt buy for so much,”

and to the seller, “Thou shalt sell at this price”? I trow not.

Therefore go back to thy Palace and put on thy purple and fine

linen. What hast thou to do with us, and what we suffer?’

 

‘Are not the rich and the poor brothers?’ asked the young King.

 

‘Ay,’ answered the man, ‘and the name of the rich brother is Cain.’

 

And the young King’s eyes filled with tears, and he rode on through

the murmurs of the people, and the little page grew afraid and left

him.

 

And when he reached the great portal of the cathedral, the soldiers

thrust their halberts out and said, ‘What dost thou seek here?

None enters by this door but the King.’

 

And his face flushed with anger, and he said to them, ‘I am the

King,’ and waved their halberts aside and passed in.

 

And when the old Bishop saw him coming in his goatherd’s dress, he

rose up in wonder from his throne, and went to meet him, and said

to him, ‘My son, is this a king’s apparel? And with what crown

shall I crown thee, and what sceptre shall I place in thy hand?

Surely this should be to thee a day of joy, and not a day of

abasement.’

 

‘Shall Joy wear what Grief has fashioned?’ said the young King.

And he told him his three dreams.

 

And when the Bishop had heard them he knit his brows, and said, ‘My

son, I am an old man, and in the winter of my days, and I know that

many evil things are done in the wide world. The fierce robbers

come down from the mountains, and carry off the little children,

and sell them to the Moors. The lions lie in wait for the

caravans, and leap upon the camels. The wild boar roots up the

corn in the valley, and the foxes gnaw the vines upon the hill.

The pirates lay waste the sea-coast and burn the ships of the

fishermen, and take their nets from them. In the salt-marshes live

the lepers; they have houses of wattled reeds, and none may come

nigh them. The beggars wander through the cities, and eat their

food with the dogs. Canst thou make these things not to be? Wilt

thou take the leper for thy bedfellow, and set the beggar at thy

board? Shall the lion do thy bidding, and the wild boar obey thee?

Is not He who made misery wiser than thou art? Wherefore I praise

thee not for this that thou hast done, but I bid thee ride back to

the Palace and make thy face glad, and put on the raiment that

beseemeth a king, and with the crown of gold I will crown thee, and

the sceptre of pearl will I place in thy hand. And as for thy

dreams, think no more of them. The burden of this world is too

great for one man to bear, and the world’s sorrow too heavy for one

heart to suffer.’

 

‘Sayest thou that in this house?’ said the young King, and he

strode past the Bishop, and climbed up the steps of the altar, and

stood before the image of Christ.

 

He stood before the image of Christ, and on his right hand and on

his left were the marvellous vessels of gold, the chalice with the

yellow wine, and the vial with the holy oil. He knelt before the

image of Christ, and the great candles burned brightly by the

jewelled shrine, and the smoke of the incense curled in thin blue

wreaths through the dome. He bowed his head in prayer, and the

priests in their stiff copes crept away from the altar.

 

And suddenly a wild tumult came from the street outside, and in

entered the nobles with drawn swords and nodding plumes, and

shields of polished steel. ‘Where is this dreamer of dreams?’ they

cried. ‘Where is this King who is apparelled like a beggar—this

boy who brings shame upon our state? Surely we will slay him, for

he is unworthy to rule over us.’

 

And the young King bowed his head again, and prayed, and when he

had finished his prayer he rose up, and turning round he looked at

them sadly.

 

And lo! through the painted windows came the sunlight streaming

upon him, and the sun-beams wove round him a tissued robe that was

fairer than the robe that had been fashioned for his pleasure. The

dead staff blossomed, and bare lilies that were whiter than pearls.

The dry thorn blossomed, and bare roses that were redder than

rubies. Whiter than fine pearls were the lilies, and their stems

were of bright silver. Redder than male rubies were the roses, and

their leaves were of beaten gold.

 

He stood there in the raiment of a king, and the gates of the

jewelled shrine flew open, and from the crystal of the many-rayed

monstrance shone a marvellous and mystical light. He stood there

in a king’s raiment, and the Glory of God filled the place, and the

saints in their carven niches seemed to move. In the fair raiment

of a king he stood before them, and the organ pealed out its music,

and the trumpeters blew upon their trumpets, and the singing boys

sang.

 

And the people fell upon their knees in awe, and the nobles

sheathed their swords and did homage, and the Bishop’s face grew

pale, and his hands trembled. ‘A greater than I hath crowned

thee,’ he cried, and he knelt before him.

 

And the young King came down from the high altar, and passed home

through the midst of the people. But no man dared look upon his

face, for it was like the face of an angel.

THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA

[TO MRS. WILLIAM H. GRENFELL OF TAPLOW COURT—LADY DESBOROUGH]

 

It was the birthday of the Infanta. She was just twelve years of

age, and the sun was shining brightly in the gardens of the palace.

 

Although she was a real Princess and the Infanta of Spain, she had

only one birthday every year, just like the children of quite poor

people, so it was naturally a matter of great importance to the

whole country that she should have a really fine day for the

occasion. And a really fine day it certainly was. The tall

striped tulips stood straight up upon their stalks, like long rows

of soldiers, and looked defiantly across the grass at the roses,

and said: ‘We are quite as splendid as you are now.’ The purple

butterflies fluttered about with gold dust on their wings, visiting

each flower in turn; the little lizards crept out of the crevices

of the wall, and lay basking in the white glare; and the

pomegranates split and cracked with the heat, and showed their

bleeding red hearts. Even the pale yellow lemons, that hung in

such profusion from the mouldering trellis and along the dim

arcades, seemed to have caught a richer colour from the wonderful

sunlight, and the magnolia trees