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te^sr^tmztM&te^^ KuTtEar 
 
 THE YOUNG KING 
 
 HE stood there in the raiment of a king, and the gates of the 
 Jewel Shrine flew open, and from the crystal of the many -rayed 
 monstrance shone a mavelous and mystical light. 
 
BEN KUTCHER'S 
 Illustrated Edition of 
 
 A 
 HOUSE of POMEGRANATES 
 
 and the story of 
 
 THE NIGHTINGALE and THE ROSE 
 
 By OSCAR WILDE 
 
 with an introduction by 
 H. L. MENCKEN 
 
 A-SEQy 
 
 ENJTES 
 
 £ 
 
 5 .', -■-;?! 
 -■■■ ;-,- 1 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 MOFFAT, YARD AND COMPANY 
 
 1918 
 

 ILLUSTRATIONS COPYRIGHTED, I918, 
 BY 
 
 Moffat, Yard & Company 
 
 o«nfanwr offk* 
 
 »P» K lift 
 
 OCT 15 iai8 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Happy Prince i 
 
 The Nightingale and the Rose 19 
 
 The Selfish Giant 31 
 
 The Young King 41 
 
 The Star-Child 65 
 
 The Fisherman and His Soul 93 
 
 The Birthday of the Infanta 151 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 The Young King Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 The Young King and the Weaver 48 
 
 The Young King and the Pearl Diver 52 
 
 The Young King and the Pilgrim 54 
 
 The Nobles Were Waiting for Him 58 
 
 The Star Child 66 
 
 "Thou Art My Son" 74 
 
 "He Heard from a Thicket as from Some One in Pain" 82 
 
 The Fisherman and the King's Daughter 94 
 
 The Witch's Dance 108 
 
 The Fisherman Sends Forth His Soul 112 
 
 The Birthday of the Infanta 152 
 
 "The Most Grotesque Monster He Had Ever Beheld" 174 
 
 "Your Little Dwarf Will Never Dance Again" . . . 176 
 
PREFACE 
 
 A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES" was done 
 almost exactly at the middle point of Wilde's 
 career as an author, and in the days, coincidently, of 
 his soundest and least perturbed celebrity. His 
 poems, his posturings and his high services to W. S. 
 Gilbert and to Punch were beginning to recede; 
 ahead of him were "Salome," the four West End 
 comedies, and catastrophe. Relatively placid wa- 
 ters surrounded him, shining in the sun. He had 
 been married, and had got over it. There was a 
 pleasant jingle of gold, or, at all events, of silver 
 in his pocket. The foremost reviews of the day were 
 open to him. He was not only a popular success, a 
 figure in the public eye; he was, more importantly, 
 beginning to get the attention of men of sense, to 
 be taken with growing seriousness, to feel firm 
 ground under him. And in age he was thirty-six, 
 with the gas of youth oozed out and the stiffening of 
 the climacteric not yet set in. 
 
 So situated, pleasantly becalmed between two 
 storms, he wrote "A House of Pomegranates," and 
 into it, I have always believed, he put the most ac- 
 
 i 
 
PREFACE 
 
 curate and, on the whole, the most ingratiating reve- 
 lation of his essential ideas that was ever to get upon 
 paper. And without, of course, stating them at all — 
 not a hint of exposition, of persuasion, of pedagogy 
 is in the book. But that is precisely what gives them, 
 there, their clarity and validity; they are not spoken 
 for, they speak for themselves — and this is always 
 the way a man sets forth the faith that is in him most 
 honestly and most illuminatingly, not by arguing for 
 it like some tin-pot evangelist, but by exhibiting it 
 like an artist. Here we have the authentic Wilde, 
 the Wilde who explains and dignifies all the lesser 
 and more self-conscious Wildes. He is simply one 
 who stands ecstatic before a vision of prodigious and 
 almost intolerable beauty, a man haunted by inef- 
 fable magnificences of color, light, mass and line, 
 a rapt and garrulous drunkard of the eye. He is one 
 who apprehended loveliness in the world, not as 
 sound, not as idea, not as order, not as syllogism, 
 above all, not as law, but as picture pure and simple 
 — as an ocular image leaping with life, gorgeous in 
 its variety, infinite in its significances. And in the 
 face of that enchanting picture, standing spellbound 
 before its eloquent and narcotic forms, responding 
 with all senses to its charming and intricate details, 
 he appears before us as the type of all that the 
 men of his race and time were not — as a rebel 
 almost colossal in the profound artlessness of his 
 
 ii 
 
PREFACE 
 
 denial. What he denied was the whole moral order 
 of the world — the fundamental assumption of the 
 Anglo-Saxon peoples. What he set up was a theory 
 of the world as purely aesthetic spectacle, superb in 
 its beauty, sufficiently its own cause and motive, or- 
 dered only by its own inner laws, and as innocent 
 of all ethical import and utility as the precession of 
 the equinoxes. 
 
 In this denial, of course, there was a challenge, 
 and in that challenge was Wilde's undoing. To see 
 him merely as a commonplace and ignoble misde- 
 meanant, taken accidentally in some secret swinish- 
 ness and condemned to a routine doom for that 
 swinishness alone, is to accept a view of him that is 
 impossibly journalistic and idiotic. He stood in the 
 dock charged with a good deal more than private 
 viciousness, and the punishment he got was a good 
 deal more than private viciousness ever provokes, 
 even from agents of the law who seek acquittal of 
 themselves in their flogging of the criminal. What 
 he was intrinsically accused of, and what he was so 
 barbarously punished for, was a flouting of the 
 premises upon which the whole civilization of his 
 time was standing — a blasphemous attempt upon the 
 gods that all docile and well-disposed men believed 
 in, even in the midst of disservice — an heretical 
 preaching of predicates and valuations that threat- 
 ened to make a new generation see the world in a 
 
 iii 
 
PREFACE 
 
 new way, to the unendurable confusion of the old 
 one. In brief, his true trial was in the character of a 
 heretic, and the case before the actual jury was no 
 more than a symbol of a quite medieval summoning 
 of the secular arm. What the secular arm thought 
 of it I have often wondered — so astoundingly vast a 
 hub-bub over an affair of everyday! Surely fish of 
 precisely the same spots were coming into the net 
 constantly, and in the sea of London there were many 
 more, and some much larger to the eye. But Wilde, 
 in truth, was the largest of them all. He had been 
 marked for a long while, and delicately pursued. 
 Lines had been cast for him; watchers had waited; 
 there was a sort of affrighted and unspoken vow to 
 dispose of him. And so, when he was hauled in at 
 last, it was a good deal more than the mere taking 
 of another spotted fish. 
 
 Thus I see the whole transaction, so obscenely wal- 
 lowed in by the indignant and unintelligent, and thus 
 I see Wilde himself — as one who cried up too impu- 
 dently, too eloquently, and, above all, too persua- 
 sively a philosophy that was out of its time. As for- 
 midably ardent and potent upon the other side, I 
 haven't the slightest doubt that his pathological 
 sportings in the mire might have gone unchallenged, 
 or at all events unwhooped. One hears of such 
 things in Y. M. C. A.'s often enough, but in whis- 
 pers; the very newspapers show discretion; surely 
 
 iv 
 
PREFACE 
 
 no great state trials ensue. But here was a man 
 who had done a great deal more than bring a pass- 
 ing stench into the synagogue. Here was one who 
 had brought a scarlet woman there, and paraded her 
 up and down, and shoved the croaking Iokanaan 
 back into his rain-barrel, and invited the young men 
 to consider the dignity and preciousness of beauty, 
 and fluttered even the old ones with his Byzantine 
 tales. Here, in brief, was one to be put down in swift 
 dudgeon if disaster was to be avoided — if the con- 
 cept of life as a bondage to implacable law was to 
 stand unshaken — if the moral order of the world, 
 or, at least, of that little corner of it, was to hold out 
 against a stealthy and abominable paganism. Wilde 
 was the first unmistakable anti-Puritan, the first un- 
 compromising enemy of the essential Puritan char- 
 acter — the fear of beauty. He was destroyed, on the 
 one hand, because he was getting power. He was 
 destroyed, on the other hand, because he was funda- 
 mentally weak. 
 
 That weakness resided, in part, in a childish van- 
 ity, an empty desire for superficial consideration, 
 that was peculiar to the man, but the rest of it, and 
 perhaps the larger part, had deeper roots. It be- 
 longed to his race, to the ineradicable Scotticism of 
 the North of Ireland Protestant; one perceives the 
 same quality, lavishly displayed, in George Bernard 
 Shaw — a congenital Puritanism beneath the surface 
 
 v 
 
PREFACE 
 
 layer of anti-Puritanism, a sort of moral revolt 
 against the moral axiom, a civil war with fortunes 
 that vary curiously, and often astonishingly. Wilde, 
 as a youth, went to Greece with Mahaffy, and came 
 home a professed Greek, but underneath there were 
 always Northern reservations, a Northern habit of 
 conscience, a Northern incapacity for Mediterranean 
 innocence. One gets here, it seems to me, an explana- 
 tion of many things — his squeamishness in certain 
 little ways (all his work, in phrase, is as "clean" 
 as Walter Pater's or Leonardo's) ; his defective grasp 
 of the concept of honor, as opposed to that of morals ; 
 the strange limits set upon his aesthetic reactions 
 (e.g., his anesthesia to music) ; his touches of gross- 
 ness; his inability to distinguish between aristocracy 
 and mere social consideration; most of all, that irre- 
 pressible inner reminder which led him constantly 
 to stand aghast, so to speak, before his own heresies — 
 that pressing and ineradicable sense of their diabol- 
 ism. In a word, the man was quite unable to throw 
 off his inheritance entirely. It dogged him in the 
 midst of his prosperity. It corrupted his sincerity. 
 It sent doubts to tease him, and flung him into hollow 
 extravagances of self-assertion. And when, in the 
 end, he faced a tremendous and inexorable issue, he 
 met it in an almost typically Puritanical manner — 
 that is, timorously, evasively, dishonestly, with an 
 eye upon the crowd, almost morally — as you will find 
 
 vi 
 
PREFACE 
 
 set forth at length, if you are interested, in Frank 
 Harris' capital biography. 
 
 In a word, Wilde was, at bottom, a second-rate 
 man, and so inferior to his cause that he came near 
 ditching it. One gets, from the accounts of those 
 who were in close relations with him, a feeling of 
 repugnance like that bred by the familiar "good 
 man"; he was, on his plane, as insufferable as a 
 Methodist is on his. But there was in him something 
 that is surely not in the Methodist, and that was a 
 capacity for giving his ideas a dignity not in him- 
 self — a talent as artist which, at its best, was almost 
 enough to conceal his limitations as a man. What he 
 did with words was a rare and lovely thing. Him- 
 self well-nigh tone-deaf, he got into them a sonorous 
 and majestic music. Himself hideous, he fashioned 
 them into complex and brilliant arabesques of beauty. 
 Himself essentially shallow and even bogus, he gave 
 them thunderous eloquence, an austere dignity al- 
 most Biblical, the appearance of high sincerity that 
 goes with all satisfying art. In these stories, I be- 
 lieve, he is at his best. His mere flashiness is reduced 
 to very little; his ideas, often hollow, are submerged 
 in feelings; he seems to forget his followers, his 
 place, his celebrity, and to devote himself wholly 
 to his work; he is the artist emancipated, for the mo- 
 ment, from the other things that he was, and the 
 worse things that he tried to be. I know of no mod- 
 
 vii 
 
PREFACE 
 
 ern English that projects color and warmth and form 
 more brilliantly, or that serves more nobly the high 
 purposes of beauty, or that stands further from the 
 flaccid manner and uses of everyday stupidity. 
 There are faults in it, true enough. At times it grows 
 self-conscious, labored, almost sing-song. But in the 
 main it is genuinely distinguished — in the main it is 
 signal work. 
 
 H. L. Mencken. 
 
 Vlll 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
THE HAPPY PRINCE 
 
 HIGH above the city, on a tall column, stood the 
 statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded 
 all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had 
 two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed 
 on his sword-hilt. 
 
 He was very much admired indeed. "He is as 
 beautiful as a weathercock," remarked one of the 
 Town Councilors who wished to gain a reputation 
 for having artistic tastes; "only not quite so useful," 
 he added, fearing lest people should think him un- 
 practical, which he really was not. 
 
 "Why can't you be like the Happy Prince?" asked 
 a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying 
 for the moon. "The Happy Prince never dreams of 
 crying for anything." 
 
 "I am glad there is some one in the world who is 
 quite happy," muttered a disappointed man as he 
 gazed at the wonderful statue. 
 
 "He looks just like an angel," said the Charity 
 Children as they came out of the cathedral in their 
 bright scarlet cloaks, and their clean white pinafores. 
 
 "How do you know?" said the Mathematical Mas- 
 ter, "you have never seen one." 
 
 i 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Ah! but we have, in our dreams," answered the 
 children, and the Mathematical Master frowned and 
 looked very severe, for he did not approve of chil- 
 dren dreaming. 
 
 One night there flew over the city a little Swallow. 
 His friends had gone away to Egypt six weeks be- 
 fore, but he had stayed behind, for he was in love 
 with the most beautiful Reed. He had met her early 
 in the spring as he was flying down the river after a 
 big yellow moth, and had been so attracted by her 
 slender waist he had stopped to talk to her. 
 
 "Shall I love you?" said the Swallow, who liked 
 to come to the point at once, and the Reed made him 
 a low bow. So he flew round and round her, touch- 
 ing the water with his wings, and making silver rip- 
 ples. This was his courtship, and it lasted all 
 through the summer. 
 
 "It is a ridiculous attachment," twittered the 
 other Swallows, "she has no money, and far too many 
 relations"; and indeed the river was quite full of 
 Reeds. Then, when the autumn came, they all flew 
 away. 
 
 After they had gone he felt lonely, and began to 
 tire of his lady-love. "She has no conversation," he 
 said, "and I am afraid that she is a coquette, for she 
 is always flirting with the wind." And certainly, 
 whenever the wind blew, the Reed made the most 
 graceful curtsies. "I admit that she is domestic," he 
 
 2 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 continued, "but I love traveling, and my wife, con- 
 sequently, should love traveling also." 
 
 "Will you come away with me?" he said finally 
 to her; but the Reed shook her head, she was so at- 
 tached to her home. 
 
 "You have been trifling with me," he cried, "I 
 am off to the Pyramids. Good-by!" and he flew 
 away. 
 
 All day long he flew, and at night-time he arrived 
 at the city. "Where shall I put up?" he said; "I 
 hope the town has made preparations." 
 
 Then he saw the statue on the tall column. "I 
 will put up there," he cried; "it is a fine position 
 with plenty of fresh air." So he alighted just be- 
 tween the feet of the Happy Prince. 
 
 "I have a golden bedroom," he said softly to him- 
 self as he looked round, and he prepared to go to 
 sleep ; but just as he was putting his head under 
 his wing a large drop of water fell on him. "What 
 a curious thing!" he cried, "there is not a single cloud 
 in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and 
 yet it is raining. The climate in the north of Eu- 
 rope is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the 
 rain, but that was merely her selfishness." 
 
 Then another drop fell. 
 
 "What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the 
 rain off?" he said; "I must look for a good chim- 
 ney-pot," and he determined to fly away. 
 
 3 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 But before he had opened his wings, a third drop 
 fell, and he looked up, and saw — Ah! what did he 
 see? 
 
 The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with 
 tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks. 
 His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the 
 Swallow was filled with pity. 
 
 "Who are you?" he said. 
 
 "I am the Happy Prince." 
 
 "Why are you weeping then?" asked the Swallow; 
 "you have quite drenched me." 
 
 "When I was alive and had a human heart," an- 
 swered the statue, "I did not know what tears were, 
 for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci, where sor- 
 row is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played 
 with my companions in the garden, and in the even- 
 ing I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the 
 garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask 
 what lay beyond it, everything about me was so 
 beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy 
 Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be hap- 
 piness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that 
 I am dead they have set me up here so high that I 
 can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my 
 city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I 
 cannot choose but weep." 
 
 "What, is he not solid gold?" said the Swallow 
 
 4 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 to himself. He was too polite to make any personal 
 remarks out loud. 
 
 "Far away," continued the statue in a low musical 
 voice, "far away in a little street there is a poor 
 house. One of the windows is open, and through it 
 I can see a woman seated at the table. Her face is 
 thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all 
 pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress. She 
 is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin gown for 
 the loveliest of the Queen's maids-of-honor to wear 
 at the next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of the 
 room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, and 
 is asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to 
 give him but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, 
 Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the 
 ruby out of my sword-hilt? My feet are fastened to 
 this pedestal and I cannot move." 
 
 "I am waited for in Egypt," said the Swallow. 
 "My friends are flying up and down the Nile, and 
 talking to the large lotus-flowers. Soon they will 
 go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The 
 King is there himself in his painted coffin. He is 
 wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. 
 Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and 
 his hands are like withered leaves." 
 
 "Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
 Prince, "will you not stay with me for one night, and 
 
 5 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty, and the 
 mother so sad." 
 
 "I don't think I like boys," answered the Swallow. 
 "Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there 
 were two rude boys, the miller's sons, who were al- 
 ways throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of 
 course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and 
 besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; 
 but still, it was a mark of disrespect." 
 
 But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little 
 Swallow was sorry. "It is very cold here," he said; 
 "but I will stay with you for one night, and be your 
 messenger." 
 
 "Thank you, little Swallow," said the Prince. 
 
 So the Swallow picked out the great ruby from 
 the Prince's sword and flew away with it in his beak 
 over the roofs of the town. 
 
 He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white 
 marble angels were sculptured. He passed by the 
 palace and heard the sound of dancing. A beauti- 
 ful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. 
 "How wonderful the stars are," he said to her, "and 
 how wonderful is the power of love!" "I hope my 
 dress will be ready in time for the State-ball," she 
 answered; "I have ordered passion-flowers to be em- 
 broidered on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy." 
 
 He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns 
 hanging to the masts of the ships. He passed over 
 
 6 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 the Ghetto, and saw the old Jews bargaining with 
 each other, and weighing out money in copper scales. 
 At last he came to the poor house and looked in. The 
 boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother 
 had fallen asleep, she was so tired. In he hopped, 
 and laid the great ruby on the table beside the 
 woman's thimble. Then he flew gently round the 
 bed, fanning the boy's forehead with his wings. 
 "How cool I feel," said the boy, "I must be getting 
 better;" and he sank into a delicious slumber. 
 
 Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, 
 and told him what he had done. "It is curious," he 
 remarked, "but I feel quite warm now, although it 
 is so cold." 
 
 "That is because you have done a good action," 
 said the Prince. And the little Swallow began to 
 think, and then he fell asleep. Thinking always 
 made him sleepy. 
 
 When day broke he flew down to the river and had 
 a bath. "What a remarkable phenomenon," said the 
 professor of Ornithology as he was passing over the 
 bridge. "A swallow in winter!" And he wrote a 
 long letter about it to the local newspaper. Every- 
 one quoted it, it was full of so many words that they 
 could not understand. 
 
 "To-night I go to Egypt," said the Swallow and 
 he was in high spirits at the prospect. He visited 
 all the public monuments, and sat a long time on 
 
 7 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 top of the church steeple. Wherever he went Spar- 
 rows chirruped, and said to each other, "What a 
 distinguished stranger!" so he enjoyed himself very 
 much. 
 
 When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy 
 Prince. "Have you any commissions for Egypt?" 
 he cried; "I am just starting." 
 
 "Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
 Prince, "will you not stay with me one night longer?" 
 
 "I am waited for in Egypt," answered the Swal- 
 low. "To-morrow my friends will fly up to the 
 Second Cataract. The river-horse couches there 
 among the bulrushes, and on a great granite throne 
 sits the God Memnon. All night long he watches 
 the stars, and when the morning star shines he ut- 
 ters one cry of joy, and then he is silent. At noon the 
 yellow lions come down to the water's edge to drink. 
 They have eyes like green beryls, and their roar is 
 louder than the roar of the cataract." 
 
 "Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
 Prince, "far away across the city I see a young man 
 in a garret. He is leaning over a desk covered with 
 papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch 
 of withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp, 
 and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has 
 large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play 
 for the Director of the Theater, but he is too cold 
 
 8 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 to write any more. There is no fire in the grate, and 
 hunger has made him faint." 
 
 "I will wait with you one night longer," said the 
 Swallow, who really had a good heart. "Shall I 
 take him another ruby?" 
 
 "Alas! I have no ruby now," said the Prince; 
 "my eyes are all that I have left. They are made 
 of rare sapphires, which were brought out of India 
 a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and 
 take it to him. He will sell it to the jeweler, and 
 buy food and firewood, and finish his play." 
 
 "Dear Prince," said the Swallow, "I cannot do 
 that;" and he began to weep. 
 
 "Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
 Prince, "do as I command you." 
 
 So the swallow plucked out the Prince's eye, and 
 flew away to the student's garret. It was easy enough 
 to get in, as there was a hole in the roof. Through 
 this he darted, and came into the room. The young 
 man had his head buried in his hands, so he did 
 not hear the flutter of the bird's wings, and when he 
 looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on 
 the withered violets. 
 
 "I am beginning to be appreciated," he cried; 
 "this is from some great admirer. Now I can finish 
 my play," and he looked quite happy. 
 
 The next day the Swallow flew down to the har- 
 bor. He sat on the mast of a large vessel and 
 
 9 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 watched the sailors hauling big chests out of the 
 hold with ropes. "Heave a-hoy!" they shouted as 
 each chest came up. "I am going to Egypt!" cried 
 the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the 
 moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. 
 
 "I am come to bid you good-by," he cried. 
 
 "Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
 Prince, "will you not stay with me one night longer?" 
 
 "It is winter," answered the Swallow, "and the 
 chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt the sun is 
 warm on the green palm-trees, and the crocodiles lie 
 in the mud and look lazily about them. My com- 
 panions are building a nest in the Temple of Baal- 
 bec, and the pink and white doves are watching them, 
 and cooing to each other. Dear Prince, I must leave 
 you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I 
 will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place 
 of those you have given away. The ruby shall be 
 redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as 
 blue as the great sea." 
 
 "In the square below," said the Happy Prince, 
 "there stands a little match-girl. She has let her 
 matches fall in the gutter, and they are all spoiled. 
 Her father will beat her if she does not bring home 
 some money, and she is crying. She has no shoes 
 or stockings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out 
 my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will 
 not beat her." 
 
 10 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "I will stay with you one night longer," said the 
 Swallow, "but I cannot pluck out your eye. You 
 would be quite blind then." 
 
 "Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the 
 Prince, "do as I command you." 
 
 So he plucked out the Prince's other eye, and 
 darted down with it. He swooped past the match- 
 girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand. 
 "What a lovely bit of glass," cried the little girl; and 
 she ran home, laughing. 
 
 Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. "You 
 are blind now," he said, "so I will stay with you al- 
 ways." 
 
 "No, little Swallow," said the poor Prince, "you 
 must go away to Egypt." 
 
 "I will stay with you always," said the Swallow, 
 and he slept at the Prince's feet. 
 
 All the next day he sat on the Prince's shoulder, 
 and told him stories of what he had seen in strange 
 lands. He told him of the red ibises, who stand in 
 long rows on the banks of the Nile, and catch gold 
 fish in their beaks ; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the 
 world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows every- 
 thing; of the merchants, who walk slowly by the side 
 of their camels, and carry amber in their hands; 
 of the King of the Mountains of the Moon, who 
 is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; 
 of the great green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, 
 
 ii 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 and has twenty priests to feed it with honey-cakes; 
 and of the pygmies who sail over a big lake on large 
 flat leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies. 
 
 "Dear little Swallow," said the Prince, "you tell 
 me of marvelous things, but more marvelous than 
 anything is the suffering of men and of women. 
 There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over 
 my city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see 
 there." 
 
 So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw 
 the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, 
 while the beggars were sitting at the gates. He 
 flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starv- 
 ing children looking out listlessly at the black streets. 
 Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were 
 lying in one another's arms to try and keep them- 
 selves warm. "How hungry we are!" they said. 
 "You must not lie here," shouted the Watchman, 
 and they wandered out into the rain. 
 
 Then he flew back and told the Prince what he 
 had seen. 
 
 "I am covered with fine gold," said the Prince, 
 "you must take it off leaf by leaf, and give it to my 
 poor; the living always think that gold can make 
 them happy." 
 
 Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked 
 off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and gray. 
 Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the 
 
 12 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 poor, and the children's faces grew rosier, and they 
 laughed and played games in the street. "We have 
 bread now!" they cried. 
 
 Then the snow came, and after the snow came the 
 frost. The streets looked as if they were made of 
 silver, they were so bright and glistening; long 
 icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves 
 of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the 
 little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice. 
 
 The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, 
 but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him too 
 well. He picked up crumbs outside the baker's door 
 when the baker was not looking, and tried to keep 
 himself warm by flapping his wings. 
 
 But at last he knew that he was going to die. He 
 had just strength to fly up to the Prince's shoulder 
 once more. "Good-by, dear Prince!" he mur- 
 mured, "will you let me kiss your hand?" 
 
 "I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, 
 little Swallow," said the Prince, " you have stayed 
 too long here; but you must kiss me on the lips, for 
 I love you." 
 
 "It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the Swal- 
 low. "I am going to the House of Death. Death 
 is the brother of Sleep, is he not?" 
 
 And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and 
 fell down dead at his feet. 
 
 At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the 
 
 13 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 statue as if something had broken. The fact is that 
 the leaden heart had snapped right in two. It cer- 
 tainly was a dreadfully hard frost. 
 
 Early the next morning the Mayor was walking 
 in the square below in company with the Town 
 Councilors. As they passed the column he looked 
 up at the statue: "Dear me! how shabby the Happy 
 Prince looks!" he said. 
 
 "How shabby indeed!" cried the Town Council- 
 ors, who always agreed with the Mayor, and they 
 went up to look at it. 
 
 "The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are 
 gone, and he is golden no longer," said the Mayor; 
 "in fact, he is little better than a beggar!" 
 
 "Little better than a beggar," said the Town Coun- 
 cilors. 
 
 "And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!" con- 
 tinued the Mayor. "We must really issue a procla- 
 mation that birds are not to be allowed to die here." 
 And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion. 
 
 So they pulled down the statue of the Happy 
 Prince. "As he is no longer beautiful he is no longer 
 useful," said the Art Professor at the University. 
 
 Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the 
 Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to decide 
 what was to be done with the metal. "We must have 
 another statue, of course," he said, "and it shall be a 
 statue of myself." 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Of myself," said each of the Town Councilors, 
 and they quarreled. When I last heard of them 
 they were quarreling still. 
 
 "What a strange thing!" said the overseer of the 
 workmen at the foundry. "This broken lead heart 
 will not melt in the furnace. We must throw it 
 away." So they threw it on a dust-heap where the 
 dead swallow was also lying. 
 
 "Bring me the two most precious things in the 
 city," said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel 
 brought Him the leaden heart and the dead bird. 
 
 "You have rightly chosen," said God, "for in my 
 garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing forever- 
 more, and in my city of gold the Happy Prince shall 
 praise me." 
 
 1* 
 
THF 
 NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
THE 
 NIGHTINGALE AND THE ROSE 
 
 SHE said that she would dance with me if 1 
 brought her red roses," cried the young 
 Student; "but in all my garden there is no red rose." 
 From her nest in the holm-oak tree the Nightingale 
 heard him, and she looked out through the leaves, 
 and wondered. 
 
 "No red rose in all my garden!" he cried, and his 
 beautiful eyes filled with tears. "Ah, on what little 
 things does happiness depend! I have read all that 
 the wise men have written, and all the secrets of 
 philosophy are mine, yet for want of a red rose is 
 my life made wretched." 
 
 "Here at last is a true lover," said the Nightingale. 
 "Night after night have I sung of him, though I 
 knew him not: night after night have I told his story 
 to the stars, and now I see him. His hair is dark 
 as the hyacinth-blossom, and his lips are red as the 
 rose of his desire; but passion has made his face 
 like pale ivory, and sorrow has set her seal upon his 
 brow." 
 
 "The Prince gives a ball to-morrow night," mur- 
 mured the young Student, "and my love will be 
 
 19 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 of the company. If I bring her a red rose she will 
 dance with me till dawn. If I bring her a red rose, 
 I shall hold her in my arms, and she will lean her 
 head upon my shoulder, and her hand will be clasped 
 in mine. But there is no red rose in my garden, so 
 I shall sit lonely, and she will pass me by. She will 
 have no heed of me, and my heart will break." 
 
 "Here indeed is the true lover," said the Nightin- 
 gale. "What I sing of, he suffers; what is joy to me, 
 to him is pain. Surely, Love is a wonderful thing. It 
 is more precious than emeralds, and dearer than fine 
 opals. Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor 
 is it set forth in the market-place. It may not be 
 purchased of the merchants, nor can it be weighed 
 out in the balance for gold." 
 
 "The musicians will sit in their gallery," said the 
 young Student, "and play upon their stringed instru- 
 ments, and my love will dance to the sound of the 
 harp and the violin. She will dance so lightly that 
 her feet will not touch the floor, and the courtiers 
 in their gay dresses will throng round her. But with 
 me she will not dance, for I have no red rose to give 
 her;" and he flung himself down on the grass, and 
 buried his face in his hands, and wept. 
 
 "Why is he weeping?" asked a little Green Lizard, 
 as he ran past him with his tail in the air. 
 
 "Why, indeed?" said a Butterfly, who was flutter- 
 ing after a sunbeam. 
 
 20 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Why, indeed?" whispered a Daisy to his neigh- 
 bor, in a soft, low voice. 
 
 "He is weeping for a red rose," said the Nightin- 
 gale. 
 
 "For a red rose!" they cried; "how very ridicu- 
 lous!" and the little Lizard, who was something of 
 a cynic, laughed outright. 
 
 But the Nightingale understood the secret of the 
 Student's sorrow, and she sat silent in the Oak-tree, 
 and thought about the mystery of love. 
 
 Suddenly she spread her brown wings for flight, 
 and soared into the air. She passed through the 
 grove like a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed 
 across the garden. 
 
 In the center or the grass-plot was standing a 
 beautiful Rose-tree, and when she saw it, she flew 
 over to it, and lit upon a spray. 
 
 "Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing 
 you my sweetest song." 
 
 But the Tree shook its head. 
 
 "My roses are white," it answered; "as white as 
 the foam of the sea, and whiter than the snow upon 
 the mountain. But go to my brother who grows 
 round the old sun-dial, and perhaps he will give you 
 what you want." 
 
 So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that 
 was growing round the old sun-dial. 
 
 21 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing 
 you my sweetest song." 
 
 But the Tree shook its head. 
 
 "My roses are yellow," it answered; "as yellow 
 as the hair of the mermaiden who sits upon an amber 
 throne, and yellower than the daffodil that blooms 
 in the meadow before the mower comes with his 
 scythe. But go to my brother who grows beneath the 
 Student's window, and perhaps he will give you what 
 you want." 
 
 So the Nightingale flew over to the Rose-tree that 
 was growing beneath the Student's window. 
 
 "Give me a red rose," she cried, "and I will sing 
 you my sweetest song." 
 
 But the Tree shook its head. 
 
 "My roses are red," it answered, "as red as the 
 feet of the dove, and redder than the great fans of 
 coral that wave and wave in the ocean-cavern. But 
 the winter has chilled my veins, and the frost has 
 nipped my buds, and the storm has broken my 
 branches, and I shall have no roses at all this year." 
 
 "One red rose is all I want," cried the Nightin- 
 gale, "only one red rose! Is there no way by which 
 I can get it?" 
 
 "There is a way," answered the Tree; "but it is 
 so terrible that I dare not tell it to you." 
 
 "Tell it to me," said the Nightingale, "I am not 
 afraid." 
 
 22 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "If you want a red rose," said the Tree, "you must 
 build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with 
 your own heart's-blood. You must sing to me with 
 your breast against a thorn. All night long you must 
 sing to me, and the thorn must pierce your heart, and 
 your life-blood must flow into my veins and become 
 mine." 
 
 "Death is a great price to pay for a red rose," cried 
 the Nightingale, "and Life is very dear to all. It is 
 pleasant to sit in the green wood, and to watch the 
 Sun in his chariot of gold, and the Moon in her 
 chariot of pearl. Sweet is the scent of the hawthorn, 
 and sweet are the bluebells that hide in the valley, 
 and the heather that blows on the hill. Yet Love is 
 better than Life, and what is the heart of a bird com- 
 pared to the heart of a man?" 
 
 So she spread her brown wings for flight, and 
 soared into the air. She swept over the garden like 
 a shadow, and like a shadow she sailed through the 
 grove. 
 
 The young Student was still lying on the grass, 
 where she had left him, and the tears were not yet 
 dry in his beautiful eyes. 
 
 "Be happy," cried the Nightingale, "be happy; 
 you shall have your red rose. I will build it out 
 of music by moonlight, and stain it with my own 
 heart's-blood. All that I ask of you in return is that 
 you will be a true lover, for Love is wiser than Phi- 
 
 23 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 losophy, though she is wise, and mightier than Power, 
 though he is mighty. Flame-colored are his wings, 
 and colored like flame is his body. His lips are sweet 
 as honey, and his breath is like frankincense." 
 
 The Student looked up from the grass, and listened, 
 but he could not understand what the Nightingale 
 was saying to him, for he only knew the things that 
 are written down in books. 
 
 But the Oak-tree understood, and felt sad, for 
 he was very fond of the little Nightingale who had 
 built her nest in his branches. 
 
 "Sing me one last song," he whispered; "I shall 
 feel very lonely when you are gone." 
 
 So the Nightingale sang to the Oak-tree, and her 
 voice was like water bubbling from a silver jar. 
 
 When she had finished her song, the Student got 
 up, and pulled a note-book and a lead-pencil out of 
 his pocket. 
 
 "She has form," he said to himself, as he walked 
 away through the grove — "that cannot be denied to 
 her; but has she got feeling? I am afraid not. In 
 fact, she is like most artists; she is all style, without 
 any sincerity. She would not sacrifice herself for 
 others. She thinks merely of music, and everybody 
 knows that the arts are selfish. Still, it must be ad- 
 mitted that she has some beautiful notes in her voice. 
 What a pity it is that they do not mean anything, or 
 do any practical good." And he went into his room, 
 
 24 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 and lay down on his little pallet-bed, and began to 
 think of his love; and, after a time, he fell asleep. 
 
 And when the Moon shone in the heavens the 
 Nightingale flew to the Rose-tree, and set her breast 
 against the thorn. All night long she sang with her 
 breast against the thorn, and the cold crystal Moon 
 leaned down and listened. All night long she sang, 
 and the thorn went deeper and deeper into her 
 breast, and her life blood ebbed away from her. 
 
 She sang first of the birth of love in the heart of a 
 boy and a girl. And on the topmost spray of the 
 Rose-tree there blossomed a marvelous rose, petal 
 followed petal, as song followed song. Pale was it, 
 at first, as the mist that hangs over the river — pale as 
 the feet of the morning, and silver as the wings of 
 the dawn. As the shadow of a rose in a mirror of 
 silver, as the shadow of a rose in a water-pool, so was 
 the rose that blossomed on the topmost spray of the 
 Tree. 
 
 But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press 
 closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little Night- 
 ingale," cried the Tree, "or the Day will come be- 
 fore the rose is finished." 
 
 So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, 
 and louder and louder grew her song, for she sang 
 of the birth of passion in the soul of a man and a 
 maid. 
 
 And a delicate flush of pink came into the leaves 
 
 25 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 of the rose, like the flush in the face of the bride- 
 groom when he kisses the lips of the bride. But the 
 thorn had not yet reached her heart, so the rose's 
 heart remained white, for only a Nightingale's 
 heart's-blood can crimson the heart of a rose. 
 
 And the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press 
 closer against the thorn. "Press closer, little Night- 
 ingale," cried the Tree, "or the Day will come be- 
 fore the rose is finished." 
 
 So the Nightingale pressed closer against the 
 thorn, and the thorn touched her heart and a fierce 
 pang of pain shot through her. Bitter, bitter was 
 the pain, and wilder and wilder grew her song, for 
 she sang of the Love that is perfected by Death, of 
 the Love that dies not in the tomb. 
 
 And the marvelous rose became crimson, like the 
 rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the girdle of 
 petals, and crimson as a ruby was the heart. 
 
 But the Nightingale's voice grew fainter, and her 
 little wings began to beat, and a film came over her 
 eyes. Fainter and fainter grew her song, and she 
 felt something choking her in her throat. 
 
 Then she gave one last burst of music. The white 
 Moon heard it, and she forgot the dawn, and lingered 
 on in the sky. The red rose heard it, and it trembled 
 all over with ecstasy, and opened its petals to the 
 cold morning air. Echo bore it to her purple 
 cavern in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds 
 
 26 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 from their dreams. It floated through the reeds of 
 the river, and they carried its message to the sea. 
 
 "Look, look!" cried the Tree, "the rose is finished 
 now;" but the Nightingale made no answer, for she 
 was lying dead in the long grass, with the thorn in 
 her heart. 
 
 And at noon the Student opened his window and 
 looked out. 
 
 •'Why, what a wonderful piece of luck!" he cried; 
 "here is a red rose! I have never seen any rose like 
 it in all my life. It is so beautiful that I am sure 
 that it has a long Latin name"; and he leaned down 
 and plucked it. 
 
 Then he put on his hat, and ran up to the Profes- 
 sor's house with the rose in his hand. 
 
 The daughter of the Professor was sitting in the 
 doorway winding blue silk on a reel, and her little 
 dog was lying at her feet. 
 
 "You said that you would dance with me if I 
 brought you a red rose," cried the Student. "Here 
 is the reddest rose in all the world. You will wear it 
 to-night next your heart, and as we dance together 
 it will tell you how I love you." 
 
 But the girl frowned. 
 
 "I am afraid it will not go with my dress," she 
 answered; "and, besides, the Chamberlain's nephew 
 sent me some real jewels, and everybody knows that 
 jewels cost far more than flowers." 
 
 27 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Well, upon my word, you are very ungrateful," 
 said the Student angrily; and he threw the rose into 
 the street, where it fell into the gutter, and a cart- 
 wheel went over it. 
 
 "Ungrateful!" said the girl. "I tell you what, you 
 are very rude; and, after all, who are you? Only a 
 Student. Why, I don't believe you have even got 
 silver buckles to your shoes as the Chamberlain's 
 nephew has"; and she got up from her chair and 
 went into the house. 
 
 "What a silly thing Love is," said the Student as 
 he walked away. "It is not half as useful as Logic, 
 for it does not prove anything, and it is always telling 
 one of things that are not going to happen, and mak- 
 ing one believe things that are not true. In fact, it is. 
 quite unpractical, and, as in this age to be practical 
 is everything, I shall go back to Philosophy and 
 study Metaphysics." 
 
 So he returned to his room and pulled out a great 
 dusty book, and began to read. 
 
 28 
 
THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
THE SELFISH GIANT 
 
 EVERY afternoon, as they were coming from 
 school, the children used to go and play in the 
 Giant's garden. 
 
 It was a large, lovely garden, with soft, green grass. 
 Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers 
 like stars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in 
 the springtime broke out into delicate blossoms of 
 pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. 
 The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that 
 the children used to stop their games in order to 
 listen to them. "How happy we are here!" they 
 cried to each other. 
 
 One day the Giant came back. He had been to 
 visit his friend, the Cornish ogre, and had stayed 
 with him for seven years. After the seven years 
 were over he had said all that he had to say, for his 
 conversation was limited, and he determined to re- 
 turn to his own castle. When he arrived he saw the 
 children playing in the garden. 
 
 "What are you doing there?" he cried in a very 
 gruff voice, and the children ran away. 
 
 "My own garden is my own garden," said the 
 Giant; "any one can understand that, and I will 
 
 3i 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 allow nobody to play in it but myself." So he built 
 a high wall all round it, and put up a notice-board. 
 
 TRESPASSERS 
 
 WILL BE 
 PROSECUTED 
 
 He was a very selfish giant. 
 
 The poor children had now nowhere to play. 
 They tried to play on the road, but the road was very 
 dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like it. 
 They used to wander round the high wall when their 
 lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden 
 inside. "How happy we were there," they said to 
 each other. 
 
 Then the Spring came, and all over the country 
 there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in 
 the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still winter. 
 The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no 
 children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a 
 beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but 
 when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the 
 children that it slipped back into the ground again, 
 and went off to sleep. The only people who were 
 pleased were the Snow and the Frost. "Spring has 
 forgotten this garden," they cried, "so we will live 
 here all the year round." The Snow covered up the 
 
 32 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost 
 painted all the trees silver. Then they invited the 
 North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He 
 was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the 
 garden, and blew the chimney-pots down. "This is 
 a delightful spot," he said, "we must ask the Hail on 
 a visit." So the Hail came. Every day for three 
 hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke 
 most of the slates, and then he ran round and round 
 the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in 
 gray, and his breath was like ice. 
 
 "I can not understand why the Spring is so late 
 in coming," said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the 
 window and looked out at his cold white garden; 
 "I hope there will be a change in the weather." 
 
 But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The 
 Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to 
 the Giant's garden she gave none. "He is too 
 selfish," she said. So it was always Winter there, 
 and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, 
 and the Snow danced about through the trees. 
 
 One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed 
 when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so 
 sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the King's 
 musicians passing by. It was really only a little 
 linnet singing outside his window but it was so long 
 since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it 
 seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the 
 
 33 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his 
 head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a de- 
 licious perfume came to him through the open case- 
 ment. "I believe the Spring has come at last," said 
 the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out. 
 
 What did he see? 
 
 He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little 
 hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they 
 were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every 
 tree that he could see there was a little child. And 
 the trees were so glad to have the children back again 
 that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and 
 were waving their arms gently above the children's 
 heads. The birds were flying about and twittering 
 with delight, and the flowers were looking up 
 through the green grass and laughing. It was a 
 lovely scene, only in one corner it was still winter. 
 It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it 
 was standing a little boy. He was so small that he 
 could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he 
 was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The 
 poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, 
 and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above 
 it. "Climb up! little boy," said the Tree, and it 
 bent its branches down as low as it could; but the 
 boy was too tiny. 
 
 And the Giant's heart melted as he looked out. 
 "How selfish I have been!" he said; "now I know 
 
 34 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 why the Spring would not come here. I will put 
 that poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then 
 I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be 
 the children's playground for ever and ever." He 
 was really very sorry for what he had done. 
 
 So he crept downstairs and opened the front door 
 quite softly, and went out into the garden. But when 
 the children saw him they were so frightened that 
 they all ran away, and the garden became winter 
 again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes 
 were so full of tears that he did not see the Giant 
 coming. And the Giant strode up behind him and 
 took him gently in his hand, and put him up into 
 the tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom, 
 and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy 
 stretched out his two arms, and flung them round 
 the Giant's neck, and kissed him. And the other 
 children, when they saw that the Giant was not 
 wicked any longer, came running back, and with 
 them came the Spring. "It is your garden now, little 
 children," said the Giant, and he took a great ax and 
 knocked down the wall. And when the people were 
 going to market at twelve o'clock they found the 
 Giant playing with the children in the most beauti- 
 ful garden they had ever seen. 
 
 All day long they played, and in the evening they 
 came to the Giant to bid him good-by. 
 
 "But where is your little companion?" he said: 
 
 35 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "the boy I put into the tree." The Giant loved him 
 the best because he had kissed him. 
 
 "We don't know," answered the children; "he has 
 gone away." 
 
 "You must tell him to be sure and come here to- 
 morrow," said the Giant. But the children said 
 that they did not know where he lived, and had never 
 seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad. 
 
 Every afternoon, when school was over, the 
 children came and played with the Giant. But the 
 little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. 
 The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he 
 longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of 
 him. "How I would like to see him!" he used to say. 
 
 Years went over, and the Giant grew very old 
 and feeble. He could not play about any more, 
 so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the 
 children at their games, and admired his garden. 
 "I have many beautiful flowers," he said; "but the 
 children are the most beautiful flowers of all." 
 
 One winter morning he looked out of his window 
 as he was dressing. He did not hate the Winter 
 now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring, 
 asleep, and that the flowers were resting. 
 
 Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked 
 and looked. It certainly was a marvelous sight. 
 In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite 
 covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches 
 
 36 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from 
 them, and underneath it stood the little boy he had 
 loved. 
 
 Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out 
 into the garden. He hastened across the grass, and 
 came near to the child. And when he came quite 
 close his face grew red with anger, and he said, 
 "Who hath dared to wound thee?" For on the palms 
 of the child's hands were the prints of two nails, 
 and the prints of two nails were on the little feet. 
 
 "Who hath dared to wound thee?" cried the 
 Giant; "tell me, that I may take my big sword and 
 slay him." 
 
 "Nay!" answered the child; "but these are the 
 wounds of Love." 
 
 "Who art thou?" said the Giant, and a strange 
 awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child. 
 
 And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to 
 him, "You let me play once in your garden, to-day 
 you shall come with me to my garden, which is 
 Paradise." 
 
 And when the children ran in that afternoon, they 
 found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all 
 covered with white blossoms. 
 
 37 
 
THE YOUNG KING 
 
THE YOUNG KING 
 
 IT was the night before the day fixed for his 
 coronation, and the young King was sitting alone 
 in his beautiful chamber. His courtiers had all taken 
 their leave of him, bowing their heads to the ground, 
 according to the ceremonious usage of the day, and 
 had retired to the Great Hall of the Palace, to re- 
 ceive a few lessons from the Professor of Etiquette; 
 there being some of them who had still quite natural 
 manners, which in a courtier is, I need hardly say, 
 a very grave offense. 
 
 The lad — for he was only a lad, being but sixteen 
 years of age — was not sorry at their departure, and 
 had flung himself back with a deep sigh of relief on 
 the soft cushions of his embroidered couch, lying 
 there, wild-eyed and open-mouthed, like a brown 
 woodland Faun, or some young animal of the forest 
 newly snared by the hunters. 
 
 And, indeed, it was the hunters who had found 
 him, coming upon him almost by chance as, bare- 
 limbed and pipe in hand, he was following the flock 
 of the poor goatherd who had brought him up, and 
 whose son he had always fancied himself to be. The 
 child of the old King's only daughter by a secret 
 
 4i 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 marriage with one much beneath her in station — a 
 stranger, some said, who, by the wonderful magic 
 of his lute-playing, had made the Young Princess 
 love him; while others spoke of an artist from 
 Rimini, to whom the Princess had shown much, per- 
 haps too much honor, and who had suddenly dis- 
 appeared from the city, leaving his work in the 
 Cathedral unfinished — he had been, when but a week 
 old, stolen away from his mother's side, as she slept, 
 and given into the charge of a common peasant and 
 his wife, who Were without children of their own, 
 and lived in a remote part of the forest more than 
 a day's ride from the town. Grief, or the plague, as 
 the court physician stated, or, as some suggested, a 
 swift Italian poison administered in a cup of spiced 
 wine, slew, within an hour of her wakening, the 
 white girl who had given him birth, and as the 
 trusty messenger who bore the child across the sad- 
 dle-bow stooped from his weary horse and knocked 
 at the rude door of the goatherd's hut, the body of the 
 Princess was being lowered into an open grave that 
 had been dug in a deserted churchyard, beyond the 
 city gates, a grave where it was said that another 
 body was also lying, that of a young man of marvel- 
 ous and foreign beauty whose hands were tied be- 
 hind him with a knotted cord, and whose breast was 
 stabbed with many red wounds. 
 
 Such, at least, was the story that men whispered 
 
 42 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 to each other. Certain it was that the old King, 
 when on his death-bed, whether moved by remorse 
 for his great sin, or merely desiring that the king- 
 dom should not pass away from his line, had had the 
 lad sent for, and, in the presence of the Council, had 
 acknowledged him as his heir. 
 
 And it seems that from the very first moment of 
 his recognition he had shown signs of that strange 
 passion for beauty that was destined to have so great 
 an influence over his life. Those who accompanied 
 him to the suite of rooms set apart for his service, 
 often spoke of the cry of pleasure that broke from 
 his lips when he saw the delicate raiment and rich 
 jewels that had been prepared for him, and of the 
 almost fierce joy with which he flung aside his rough 
 leathern tunic and coarse sheepskin cloak. He 
 missed, indeed, at times the fine freedom of his forest 
 life, and was always apt to chafe at the tedious 
 Court ceremonies that occupied so much of each day, 
 but the wonderful palace — Joyeuse, as they called 
 it — of which he now found himself lord, seemed to 
 him to be a new world fresh-fashioned for his de- 
 light; and as soon as he could escape from the coun- 
 cil-board or audience-chamber, he would run down 
 the great staircase, with its lions of gilt bronze and 
 its steps of bright porphyry, and wander from room 
 to room, and from corridor to corridor, like one who 
 
 43 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 was seeking to find in beauty an anodyne from pain, 
 a sort of restoration from sickness. 
 
 Upon these journeys of discovery, as he would call 
 them — and, indeed, they were to him real voyages 
 through a marvelous land — he would sometimes be 
 accompanied by the slim, fair-haired Court pages, 
 with their floating mantles, and gay fluttering 
 ribands; but more often he would be alone, feeling 
 through a certain quick instinct, which was almost 
 a divination, that the secrets of art are best learned 
 in secret, and that Beauty, like Wisdom, loves the 
 lonely worshiper. 
 
 Many curious stories were related about him at 
 this period. It was said that a stout Burgomaster, 
 who had come to deliver a florid oratorical address 
 on behalf of the citizens of the town, had caught 
 sight of him kneeling in real adoration before a 
 great picture that had just been brought from Venice, 
 and that seemed to herald the worship of some new 
 gods. On another occasion he had been missed for 
 several hours, and after a lengthened search had been 
 discovered in a little chamber in one of the northern 
 turrets of the palace gazing, as one in a trance, at a 
 Greek gem carved with the figure of Adonis. He 
 had been seen, so the tale ran, pressing his warm lips 
 to the marble brow of an antique statue that had been 
 discovered in the bed of the river on the occasion 
 of the building of the stone bridge, and was inscribed 
 
 44 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 with the name of the Bithynian slave of Hadrian. 
 He had passed a whole night in noting the effect of 
 the moonlight on a silver image of Endymion. 
 
 All rare and costly materials had certainly a great 
 fascination for him, and in his eagerness to pro- 
 cure them he had sent away many merchants, some 
 to traffic for amber with the rough fisher-folk of the 
 north seas, some to Egypt to look for that curious 
 green turquoise which is found only in the tombs of 
 kings, and is said to possess magical properties, some 
 to Persia for silk carpets and painted pottery, and 
 others to India to buy gauze and stained ivory, moon- 
 stones and bracelets of jade, sandal-wood and blue 
 enamel and shawls of fine wool. 
 
 But what had occupied him most was the robe he 
 was to wear at his coronation, and the robe of tissued 
 gold, and the ruby-studded crown, and the scepter 
 with its rows and rings of pearls. Indeed, it was 
 of this that he was thinking to-night, as he lay back 
 on his luxurious couch, watching the great pine- 
 wood log that was burning itself out on the open 
 hearth. The designs, which were from the hands 
 of the most famous artists of the time, had been sub- 
 mitted to him many months before, and he had given 
 orders that the artificers were to toil night and day 
 to carry them out, and that the whole world was to 
 be searched for jewels that would be worthy of their 
 work. He saw himself in fancy standing at the high 
 
 45 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 altar of the cathedral in the fair raiment of a King, 
 and a smile played and lingered about his boyish 
 lips, and lit up with a bright luster his dark wood- 
 land eyes. 
 
 After some time he rose from his seat, and leaning 
 against the carved penthouse of the chimney, looked 
 round at the dimly-lit room. The walls were hung 
 with rich tapestries representing the Triumph of 
 Beauty. A large press, inlaid with agate and lapis- 
 lazuli, filled one corner, and facing the window stood 
 a curiously wrought cabinet with lacquer panels of 
 powdered and mosaicked gold, on which were placed 
 some delicate goblets of Venetian glass, and a cup 
 of dark-veined onyx. Pale poppies were broidered 
 on the silk coverlet of the bed, as though they had 
 fallen from the tired hands of sleep, and tall reeds 
 of fluted ivory bore up the velvet canopy, from which 
 great tufts of ostrich plumes sprang, like white foam, 
 to the pallid silver of the fretted ceiling. A laughing 
 Narcissus in green bronze held a polished mirror 
 above its head. On the table stood a flat bowl of 
 amethyst. 
 
 Outside he could see the huge dome of the 
 cathedral, looming like a bubble over the shadowy 
 houses, and the weary sentinels pacing up and down 
 on the misty terrace by the river. Far away, in an 
 orchard, a nightingale was singing. A faint per- 
 fume of jasmine came through the open window. 
 
 4 6 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 He brushed his brown curls back from his forehead, 
 and taking up a lute, let his fingers stray across the 
 cords. His heavy eyelids drooped, and a strange 
 languor came over him. Never before had he felt 
 so keenly, or with such exquisite joy, the magic and 
 the mystery of beautiful things. 
 
 When midnight sounded from the clock-tower he 
 touched a bell, and his pages entered and disrobed 
 him with much ceremony, pouring rose-water over 
 his hands, and strewing flowers on his pillow. A few 
 moments after that they had left the room, and he 
 fell asleep. 
 
 And as he slept he dreamed a dream, and this was 
 his dream. 
 
 He thought that he was standing in a long, low 
 attic, amidst the whirr and clatter of many looms. 
 The meager daylight peered in through the grated 
 windows, and showed him the gaunt figures of the 
 weavers bending over their cases. Pale, sickly-look- 
 ing children were crouched on the huge crossbeams. 
 As the shuttles dashed through the warp they lifted 
 up the heavy battens, and when the shuttles stopped 
 they let the battens fall and pressed the threads to- 
 gether. Their faces were pinched with famine, and 
 their thin hands shook and trembled. Some haggard 
 women were seated at a table sewing. A horrible 
 odor filled the place. The air was foul and heavy, 
 and the walls dripped and streamed with damp. 
 
 47 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 The young King went over to one of the weavers, 
 and stood by him and watched him. 
 
 And the weaver looked at him angrily, and said, 
 "Why art thou watching me? Art thou a spy set on 
 us by our master?" 
 
 "Who is thy master?" asked the young King. 
 
 "Our master!" cried the weaver, bitterly. "He 
 is a man like myself. Indeed, there is but this dif- 
 ference between us — that he wears fine clothes while 
 I go in rags, and that while I am weak from hunger 
 he suffers not a little from overfeeding." 
 
 "The land is free," said the young King, "and thou 
 art no man's slave." 
 
 "In war," answered the weaver, "the strong make 
 slaves of the weak, and in peace the rich make slaves 
 of the poor. We must work to live, and they give us 
 such mean wages that we die. We toil for them all 
 day long, and they heap up gold in their coffers, and 
 our children fade away before their time, and the 
 faces of those we love become hard and evil. We 
 tread out the grapes, another drinks the wine. We 
 sow the corn, and our own board is empty. We have 
 chains, though no eye beholds them; and are slaves, 
 though men call us free." 
 
 "Is it so with all?" he asked. 
 
 "It is so with all," answered the weaver, "with the 
 young as well as with the old, with the women as 
 well as with the men, with the little children as well 
 
 4 8 
 
THE YOUNG KING 
 
 The young' king- went over to one of the weavers, stood by him 
 and watched him. 
 
 And the weaver looked at him angrily and said, "Why art 
 thou watching me. " 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 as with those who are stricken in years. The 
 merchants grind us down, and we must needs do their 
 bidding. The priest rides by and tells his beads, and 
 no man has care of us. Through our sunless lanes 
 creeps Poverty with her hungry eyes, and Sin with 
 his sodden face follows close behind her. Misery 
 wakes us in the morning, and Shame sits with us at 
 night. But what are these things to thee? Thou art 
 not one of us. Thy face is too happy." And he 
 turned away scowling, and threw the shuttle across 
 the loom, and the young King saw that it was 
 threaded with a thread of gold. 
 
 And a great terror seized upon him, and he said 
 to the weaver, "What robe is this that thou art weav- 
 ing?" 
 
 "It is the robe for the coronation of the young 
 King," he answered; "What is that to thee?" 
 
 And the young King gave a loud cry and woke, 
 and lo! he was in his own chamber, and through the 
 window he saw the great honey-colored moon hang- 
 ing in the dusky air. 
 
 And he fell asleep again and dreamed, and this 
 was his dream. 
 
 He thought that he was lying on the deck of a 
 huge galley that was being rowed by a hundred 
 slaves. On a carpet by his side the master of the 
 galley was seated. He was black as ebony, and his 
 turban was of crimson silk. Great earrings of silver 
 
 49 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 dragged down the thick lobes of his ears, and in his 
 hands he had a pair of ivory scales. 
 
 The slaves were naked, but for a ragged loin- 
 cloth, and each man was chained to his neighbor. 
 The hot sun beat brightly upon them, and the negroes 
 ran up and down the gangway and lashed them with 
 whips of hide. They stretched out their lean arms 
 and pulled the heavy oars through the water. The 
 salt spray flew from the blades. 
 
 At last they reached a little bay and began to take 
 soundings. A light wind blew from the shore, and 
 covered the deck and the great lateen sail with a fine 
 red dust. Three Arabs mounted on wild asses rode 
 out and threw spears at them. The master of the 
 galley took a painted bow in his hand and shot one 
 of them in the throat. He fell heavily into the surf, 
 and his companions galloped away. A woman 
 wrapped in a yellow veil followed slowly on a camel, 
 looking back now and then at the dead body. 
 
 As soon as they had cast anchor and hauled down 
 the sail, the negroes went into the hold and brought 
 up a long rope-ladder, heavily weighted with lead. 
 The master of the galley threw it over the side, mak- 
 ing the ends fast to two iron stanchions. Then the 
 negroes seized the youngest of the slaves, and knocked 
 his gyves off, and filled his nostrils and ears with wax, 
 and tied a big stone round his waist. He crept 
 wearily down the ladder, and disappeared into the 
 
 5o 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 sea. A few bubbles rose where he sank. Some of 
 the other slaves peered curiously over the side. At 
 the prow of the galley sat a shark charmer, beating 
 monotonously upon a drum. 
 
 After some time the diver rose up out of the water, 
 and clung panting to the ladder with a pearl in his 
 right hand. The negroes seized it from him, and 
 thrust him back. The slaves fell asleep over their 
 oars. 
 
 Again and again he came up, and each time that 
 he did so he brought with him a beautiful pearl. 
 The master of the galley weighed them, and put 
 them into a little bag of green leather. 
 
 The young King tried to speak, but his tongue 
 seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth, and his 
 lips refused to move. The negroes chattered to each 
 other, and began to quarrel over a string of bright 
 beads. Two cranes flew round and round the vessel. 
 
 Then the diver came up for the last time, and the 
 pearl that he brought with him was fairer than all 
 the pearls of Ormuz, for it was shaped like the full 
 moon, and whiter than the morning star. But his 
 face was strangely pale, and as he fell upon the deck 
 the blood gushed from his ears and nostrils. He 
 quivered for a little, and then he was still. The 
 negroes shrugged their shoulders, and threw the body 
 overboard. 
 
 And the master of the galley laughed, and, reach- 
 
 5i 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 ing out, he took the pearl, and when he saw it he 
 pressed it to his forehead and bowed. "It shall be," 
 he said, "for the scepter of the young King," and he 
 made a sign to the negroes to draw up the anchor. 
 
 And when the young King heard this he gave a 
 great cry, and woke, and through the window he 
 saw the long, gray fingers of the dawn clutching at 
 the fading stars. 
 
 And he fell asleep again, and dreamed, and this 
 was the dream. 
 
 He thought that he was wandering through a dim 
 wood, hung with strange fruits and with beautiful 
 poisonous flowers. The adders hissed at him as he 
 went by, and the bright parrots flew screaming from 
 branch to branch. Huge tortoises lay asleep upon 
 the hot mud. The trees were full of apes and pea- 
 cocks. 
 
 On and on he went, till he reached the outskirts of 
 the wood, and there he saw an immense multitude of 
 men toiling in the bed of a dried-up river. They 
 swarmed up the crag like ants. They dug deep pits 
 in the ground and went down into them. Some of 
 them cleft the rocks with great axes; others grabbled 
 in the sand. They tore up the cactus by its roots, and 
 trampled on the scarlet blossoms. They hurried 
 about, calling to each other, and no man was idle. 
 
 From the darkness of a cavern Death and Avarice 
 
 52 
 
THE YOUNG KING 
 
 Again and again he came up and each time he did so he brought 
 with him a beautiful pearl. 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 watched them, and Death said, "I am weary; give 
 me a third of them and let me go." 
 
 But Avarice shook her head. "They are my serv- 
 ants," she answered. 
 
 And Death said to her, "What hast thou in thy 
 hand?' 
 
 "I have three grains of corn," she answered; 
 "what is that to thee?" 
 
 "Give me one of them," cried Death, "to plant in 
 my garden; only one of them, and I will go away." 
 
 "I will not give thee anything," said Avarice, and 
 she hid her hand in the fold of her raiment. 
 
 And Death laughed, and took a cup, and dipped 
 it into a pool of water, and out of the cup rose 
 Ague. She passed through the great multitude, and 
 a third of them lay dead. A cold mist followed her, 
 and the water-snakes ran by her side. 
 
 And when Avarice saw that a third of the multi- 
 tude was dead she beat her breast and wept. She 
 beat her barren bosom, and cried aloud. "Thou hast 
 slain a third of my servants," she cried, "get thee 
 gone. There is war in the mountains of Tartary, and 
 the kings of each side are calling to thee. The 
 Afghans have slain the black ox, and are marching to 
 battle. They have beaten upon their shields with 
 their spears, and have put on their helmets of iron. 
 What is my valley to thee, that thou should'st tarry 
 in it? Get thee gone and come here no more." 
 
 53 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Nay," answered Death, "but till thou hast given 
 me a grain of corn I will not go." 
 
 But Avarice shut her hand, and clenched her teeth. 
 "I will not give thee anything," she muttered. 
 
 And Death laughed, and took up a black stone, and 
 threw it into the forest, and out of a thicket of wild 
 hemlock came Fever in a robe of flame. She passed 
 through the multitude, and touched them, and each 
 man that she touched died. The grass withered be- 
 neath her feet as she walked. 
 
 And Avarice shuddered, and put ashes on her 
 head. "Thou art cruel," she cried; "thou art cruel. 
 There is famine in the walled cities of India, and the 
 cisterns of Samarcand have run dry. There is famine 
 in the walled cities of Egypt, and the locusts have 
 come up from the desert. The Nile has not over- 
 flowed its banks, and the priests have cursed Isis and 
 Osiris. Get thee gone to those who need thee, and 
 leave me my servants." 
 
 "Nay," answered Death, "but till thou hast given 
 me a grain of corn I will not go." 
 
 "I will not give thee anything," said Avarice. 
 
 And Death laughed again, and he whistled through 
 his fingers, and a woman came flying through the air. 
 Plague was written upon her forehead, and a crowd 
 of lean vultures wheeled round her. She covered the 
 valley with her wings, and no man was left alive. 
 
 And Avarice fled shrieking through the forest, and 
 
 54 
 
THE YOUNG KING 
 
 And the pilgrim answered, "Look in this mirror, and thou shah see him? 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 Death leaped upon his red horse and galloped away, 
 and his galloping was faster than the wind. 
 
 And out of the slime at the bottom of the valley 
 crept dragons and horrible things with scales, and 
 the jackals came trotting along the sand, sniffing up 
 the air with their nostrils. 
 
 And the young King wept, and said: "Who were 
 these men, and for what were they seeking?" 
 
 "For rubies for a king's crown," answered one 
 who stood behind him. 
 
 And the young King started, and, turning round, 
 he saw a man habited as a pilgrim and holding in his 
 hand a mirror of silver. 
 
 And he grew pale, and said: "For what king?" 
 
 And the pilgrim answered: "Look in this mir- 
 ror, and thou shalt see him." 
 
 And he looked in the mirror, and, seeing his own 
 face, he gave a great cry and woke, and the bright 
 sunlight was streaming into the room, and from the 
 trees of the garden and pleasaunce the birds were 
 singing. 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 scepter 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 
 
 55 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 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 vine-dresser?" 
 
 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 peo- 
 ple know that thou art a king, if thou hast not a king's 
 raiment?" 
 
 And the young King looked at him. "Is it so, in- 
 
 56 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 deed?" he questioned. "Will they not know me for 
 a king if I have not a king's raiment?" 
 
 "They will not know the?, 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 scepter, 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 be 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 
 
 57 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 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 prophyry 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 bit- 
 terly 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. 
 
 S8 
 
THE YOUNG KING 
 
 Thus attired, he passed out of his chamber and into the Great 
 Hall where the nobles were waiting 1 fur him. 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Aye," 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 cathe- 
 dral, 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 scepter 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 
 
 59 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 camels. The wild boar roots up the corn in the val- 
 ley, and the foxes gnaw the vines upon the hill. The 
 pirates lay waste the seacoast 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? Where- 
 fore 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 scepter 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 marvelous ves- 
 sels of gold, the chalice with the yellow wine, and 
 
 60 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 the vial with the holy oil. He knelt before the image 
 of Christ, and the great candles burned brightly by 
 the jeweled 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 appareled like a beg- 
 gar — 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 window came the sun- 
 light streaming upon him, and the sunbeams wove 
 round him a tissued robe that was fairer than the 
 robe that had been fashioned for his pleasure. The 
 dead staff blossomed, and bore lilies that were whiter 
 than pearls. The dry thorn blossomed, and bore 
 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 
 
 61 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 gates of the jeweled shrine flew open, and from the 
 crystal of the many-rayed monstrance shone a mar- 
 velous 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 trem- 
 bled. "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 peo- 
 ple. But no man dared look upon his face, for it 
 was like the face of an angel. 
 
 62 
 
THE STAR-CHILD 
 
THE STAR-CHILD 
 
 ONCE upon a time two poor Wood-cutters were 
 making their way home through a great pine- 
 forest. It was winter, and a night of bitter cold. 
 The snow lay thick upon the ground, and upon the 
 branches of the tree: the frost kept snapping the lit- 
 tle twigs on either side of them, as they passed: and 
 when they came to the Mountain-Torrent she was 
 hanging motionless in air, for the Ice-King had 
 kissed her. 
 
 So cold was it that even the animals and the birds 
 did not know what to make of it. 
 
 "Ugh!" snarled the Wolf, as he limped through 
 the brushwood with his tail between his legs, "this 
 is perfectly monstrous weather. Why doesn't the 
 Government look to it?" 
 
 "Weet! weet! weet!" twittered the green Linnets, 
 "the Old Earth is dead, and they have laid her out in 
 her white shroud." 
 
 "The Earth is going to u^ married, and this is her 
 bridal dress," Whispered the Turtle-doves to each 
 other. Their little pink feet were quite frost-bitten, 
 but they felt that it was their duty to take a romantic 
 view of the situation. 
 
 65 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Nonsense!" growled the Wolf. "I tell you that 
 it is all the fault of the Government, and if you don't 
 believe me I shall eat you." The Wolf had a thor- 
 oughly practical mind, and was never at a loss for a 
 good argument. 
 
 "Well, for my own part," said the Woodpecker, 
 who was a born philosopher, "I don't care an atomic 
 theory for explanations. If a thing is so, it is so, and 
 at present it is terribly cold." 
 
 Terribly cold it certainly was. The little Squir- 
 rels, who lived inside the tall fir-tree, kept rubbing 
 each other's noses to keep themselves warm, and the 
 Rabbits curled themselves up in their holes, and did 
 not venture even to look out of doors. The only 
 people who seemed to enjoy it were the great horned 
 Owls. Their feathers were quite stiff with rime, but 
 they did not mind, and they rolled their large yel- 
 low eyes, and called out to each other across the for- 
 est, "Tu-whit! Tu-whoo! Tu-whit! Tu-whoo! 
 what delightful weather we are having!" 
 
 On and on went the two Woodcutters, blowing 
 lustily upon their fingers, and stamping with their 
 huge iron-shod boots upon the caked snow. Once 
 they sank into a deep drift, and came out as white as 
 millers are, when the stones are grinding; and once 
 they slipped on the hard smooth ice where the marsh- 
 water was frozen, and their faggots fell out of their 
 bundles and they had to pick them up and bind them 
 
 66 
 
THE STAR CHILD 
 
 There fell from heaven a bright and beautiful star. 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 together again ; and once they thought that they had 
 lost their way, and a great terror seized on them, for 
 they knew that the Snow is cruel to those who sleep 
 in her arms. But they put their trust in the good 
 Saint Martin, who watches over all travelers, and 
 retraced their steps, and went warily, and at last they 
 reached the outskirts of the forest, and saw, far down 
 in the valley beneath them, the lights of the village 
 in which they dwelt. 
 
 So overjoyed were they at their deliverance that 
 they laughed aloud, and the Earth seemed to them 
 like a flower of silver, and the Moon like a flower 
 of gold. 
 
 Yet, after that they had laughed they became sad, 
 for they remembered their poverty, and one of them 
 said to the other, "Why did we make merry, seeing 
 that life is for the rich, and not for such as we are? 
 Better that we had died of cold in the forest, or that 
 some wild beast had fallen upon us and slain us." 
 
 "Truly," answered his companion, "much is given 
 to some, and little is given to others. Injustice has 
 parceled out the world, nor is there equal division of 
 aught save of sorrow." 
 
 But as they were bewailing their misery to each 
 other this strange thing happened. There fell from 
 heaven a very bright and beautiful star. It slipped 
 down the side of the sky, passing by the other stars 
 in its course, and, as they watched it wondering, it 
 
 67 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 seemed to them to sink behind a clump of willow- 
 trees that stood hard by a little sheepfold no more 
 than a stone's throw away. 
 
 "Why! there is a crock of gold for whoever finds 
 it," they cried, and they set to and ran, so eager were 
 they for the gold. 
 
 And one of them ran faster than his mate, and out- 
 stripped him, and forced his way through the wil- 
 lows, and came out on the other side, and lo! there 
 was indeed a thing of gold lying on the white snow. 
 So he hastened toward it, and stooping down placed 
 his hands upon it, and it was a cloak of golden tissue, 
 curiously wrought with stars, and wrapped in many 
 folds. And he cried out to his comrade that he had 
 found the treasure that had fallen from the sky, and 
 when his comrade had come up, they sat them down 
 in the snow, and loosened the folds of the cloak that 
 they might divide the pieces of gold. But, alas! no 
 gold was in it, nor silver, nor, indeed, treasure of any 
 kind, but only a little child who was asleep. 
 
 And one of them said to the other: "This is a bit- 
 ter ending to our hope, nor have we any good for- 
 tune, for what doth a child profit to a man? Let 
 us leave it here, and go our way, seeing that we are 
 poor men, and have children of our own whose bread 
 we may not give to another." 
 
 But his companion answered him: "Nay, but it 
 were an evil thing to leave the child to perish here 
 
 68 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 in the snow, and though I am as poor as thou art, 
 and have many mouths to feed, and but little in the 
 pot, yet will I bring it home with me, and my wife 
 shall have care of it." 
 
 So very tenderly he took up the child and wrapped 
 the cloak around it to shield it from the harsh cold, 
 and made his way down the hill to the village, his 
 comrade marveling much at his foolishness and soft- 
 ness of heart. 
 
 And when they came to the village, his comrade 
 said to him, "Thou hast the child, therefore give me 
 the cloak, for it is meet that we should share." 
 
 But he answered him: "Nay, for the cloak is 
 neither mine nor thine, but the child's only," and he 
 bade him Godspeed, and went to his own house and 
 knocked. 
 
 And when his wife opened the door and saw that 
 her husband had returned safe to her, she put her 
 arms round his neck and kissed him, and took from 
 his back the bundle of faggots, and brushed the snow 
 off his boots, and bade him come in. 
 
 But he said to her, "I have found something in 
 the forest, and I have brought it to thee to have care 
 of it," and he stirred not from the threshold. 
 
 "What is it?" she cried. "Show it to me, for the 
 house is bare, and we have need of many things." 
 And he drew the cloak back and showed her the 
 sleeping child. 
 
 6 9 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Alack, goodman!" she murmured, "have we not 
 children enough of our own, that thou must needs 
 bring a changeling to sit by the hearth? And who 
 knows if it will not bring us bad fortune? And how 
 shall we tend it?" And she was wroth against him. 
 
 "Nay, but it is a Star-Child," he answered; and he 
 told her the strange manner of the finding of it. 
 
 But she would not be appeased, but mocked at 
 him, and spoke angrily, and cried: "Our children 
 lack bread, and shall we feed the child of another? 
 Who is there who careth for us? And who giveth us 
 food?" 
 
 "Nay, but God careth for the sparrows even, and 
 feedeth them," he answered. 
 
 "Do not the sparrows die of hunger in the winter?" 
 she asked. "And is it not winter now?" And the 
 man answered nothing, but stirred not from the 
 threshold. 
 
 And a bitter wind from the forest came in through 
 the open door, and made her tremble, and she quiv- 
 ered, and said to him: "Wilt thou not close the door? 
 There cometh a bitter wind into the house, and I am 
 cold." 
 
 "Into a house where a heart is hard cometh there 
 not always a bitter wind?" he asked. And the woman 
 answered him nothing, but crept closer to the fire. 
 
 And after a time she turned round and looked at 
 him, and her eyes were full of tears. And he came 
 
 70 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 in swiftly, and placed the child in her arms, and she 
 kissed it, and laid it in a little bed where the youngest 
 of their own children was lying. And on the morrow 
 the Woodcutter took the curious cloak of gold and 
 placed it in a great chest, and a chain of amber that 
 was round the child's neck his wife took and set it in 
 the chest also. 
 
 So the Star-Child was brought up with the chil- 
 dren of the Woodcutter, and sat at the same board with 
 them, and was their playmate. And every year he 
 became more beautiful to look at, so that all those 
 who dwelt in the village were filled with wonder, 
 for, while they were swarthy and black-haired, he 
 was white and delicate as sawn ivory, and his curls 
 were like the rings of the daffodil. His lips, also, 
 were like the petals of a red flower, and his eyes were 
 like violets by a river of pure water, and his body like 
 the narcissus of a field where the mower comes not. 
 
 Yet did his beauty work him evil. For he grew 
 proud, and cruel, and selfish. The children of the 
 Woodcutter, and the other children of the village, 
 he despised, saying that they were of mean parentage, 
 while he was noble, being sprung from a Star, and he 
 made himself master over them and called them his 
 servants. No pity had he for the poor, or for those 
 who were blind or maimed or in any way afflicted, 
 but would cast stones at them and drive them forth 
 
 7i 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 on to the highway, and bid them beg their bread else- 
 where, so that none save outlaws came twice to that 
 village to ask for alms. Indeed, he was as one 
 enamored of beauty, and would mock at the weakly 
 and ill-favored, and make jest of them; and himself 
 he loved, and in summer, when the winds were still, 
 he would lie by the well in the priest's orchard and 
 look down at the marvel of his own face, and laugh 
 for the pleasure he had in his fairness. 
 
 Often did the Woodcutter and his wife chide him, 
 and say: "We did not deal with thee as thou dealest 
 jvvith those who are left desolate, and have none to 
 succor them. Wherefore art thou so cruel to all who 
 need pity?" 
 
 Often did the old priest send for him, and seek to 
 teach him the love of living things, saying to him : 
 "The fly is thy brother. Do it no harm. The wild 
 birds that roam through the forest have their free- 
 dom. Snare them not for thy pleasure. God made 
 the blind-worm and the mole, and each has its place. 
 Who art thou to bring pain into God's world? Even 
 the cattle of the field praise him." 
 
 But the Star-Child heeded not their words, but 
 would frown and flout, and go back to his compan- 
 ions, and lead them. And his companions followed 
 him, for he was fair, and fleet of foot, and could 
 dance, and pipe, and make music. And wherever the 
 Star-Child led them they followed, and whatever the 
 
 72 
 
THE STAR CHILD 
 
 But zohen he had reached the outskirts of the wood, he heard from a 
 thicket as of some one in pain. 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 Star-Child bade them do, that did they. And when 
 he pierced with a sharp reed the dim eyes of the mole, 
 they laughed, and when he cast stones at the leper 
 they laughed also. And in all things he ruled them, 
 and they became hard of heart, even as he was. 
 
 Now there passed one day through the village a 
 poor beggar-woman. Her garments were torn and 
 ragged, and her feet were bleeding from the rough 
 road on which she had traveled, and she was in very 
 evil plight. And being weary she sat her down un- 
 der a chestnut-tree to rest. 
 
 But when the Star-Child saw her, he said to his 
 companions, "See! There sitteth a foul beggar- 
 woman under that fair and green-leaved tree. Come, 
 let us drive her hence, for she is ugly and ill- 
 favored." 
 
 So he came near and threw stones at her, and 
 mocked her, and she looked at him with terror in 
 her eyes, nor did she move her gaze from him. And 
 when the Woodcutter, who was cleaving logs in a 
 haggard hard by, saw what the Star-Child was do- 
 ing, he ran up and rebuked him, and said to him: 
 "Surely thou art hard of heart, and knowest not 
 mercy, for what evil has this poor woman done to 
 thee that thou should'st treat her in this wise?" 
 
 And the Star-Child grew red with anger, and 
 stamped his foot upon the ground, and said, "Who 
 
 73 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 art thou to question me what I do? I am no son of 
 thine to do thy bidding." 
 
 "Thou speakest truly," answered the Woodcutter, 
 "yet did I show thee pity when I found thee in the 
 forest." 
 
 And when the woman heard these words she gave 
 a loud cry, and fell into a swoon. And the Wood- 
 cutter carried her to his own house, and his wife had 
 care of her, and when she rose up from the swoon 
 into which she had fallen, they set meat and drink 
 before her, and bade her have comfort. 
 
 But she would neither eat nor drink, but said to 
 the Woodcutter, "Didst thou not say that the child 
 was found in the forest? And was it not ten years 
 from this day?" 
 
 And the Woodcutter answered, "Yea, it was in the 
 forest that I found him, and it is ten years from this 
 day." 
 
 "And what signs didst thou find with him?" she 
 cried. "Bore he not upon his neck a chain of amber? 
 Was not round him a cloak of gold tissue broidered 
 with stars?" 
 
 "Truly," answered the Woodcutter, "it was even 
 as thou sayest.' And he took the cloak and the amber 
 chain from the chest where they lay, and showed 
 them to her. 
 
 And when she saw them she wept for joy, and said, 
 "He is my little son whom I lost in the forest. I 
 
 74 
 
THE STAR CHILD 
 
 ''Nay. but thou art indeed my little son, whom I bare in the forest", 
 she cried, and she fell on her lenees, and held out her arms to him. 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 pray thee send for him quickly, for in search of him 
 have I wandered over the whole world." 
 
 So the Woodcutter and his wife went out and 
 called to the Star-Child, and said to him, "Go into 
 the house, and there shalt thou find thy mother, who 
 is waiting for thee." 
 
 So he ran in, filled with wonder and great glad- 
 ness. But when he saw her who was waiting there, 
 he laughed scornfully and said, "Why, where is my 
 mother? For I see none here but this vile beggar- 
 woman." 
 
 And the woman answered him, "I am thy mother." 
 
 "Thou art mad to say so," cried the Star-Child 
 angrily. "I am no son of thine, for thou art a beg- 
 gar, and ugly, and in rags. Therefore get thee hence, 
 and let me see thy foul face no more." 
 
 "Nay, but thou art indeed my little son, whom I 
 bore in the forest," she cried, and she fell on her 
 knees, and held out her arms to him. "The robbers 
 stole thee from me, and left thee to die," she mur- 
 mured, "but I recognized thee when I saw thee, and 
 the signs also have I recognized, the cloak of golden 
 tissue and the amber chain. Therefore I pray thee 
 come with me, for over the whole world have I wan- 
 dered in search of thee. Come with me, my son, 
 for I have need of thy love." 
 
 But the Star-Child stirred not from his place, but 
 shut the doors of his heart against her, nor was there 
 
 75 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 any sound heard save the sound of the woman weep- 
 ing for pain. 
 
 And at last he spoke to her, and his voice was hard 
 and bitter. "If in very truth thou art my mother," 
 he said, "it had been better hadst thou stayed away, 
 and not come here to bring me to shame, seeing that 
 I thought I was the child of some Star, and not a 
 beggar's child, as thou tellest me that I am. There- 
 fore get thee hence, and let me see thee no more." 
 
 "Alas! my son," she cried, "wilt thou not kiss me 
 before I go? For I have suffered much to find 
 thee." 
 
 "Nay," said the Star-Child, "but thou art too foul 
 to look at, and rather would I kiss the adder or the 
 toad than thee." 
 
 So the woman rose up, and went away into the 
 forest weeping bitterly, and when the Star-Child saw 
 that she had gone, he was glad, and ran back to his 
 playmates that he might play with them. 
 
 But when they beheld him coming, they mocked 
 him and said, "Why thou art as foul as the toad, and 
 as loathsome as the adder. Get thee hence, for we 
 will not suffer thee to play with us," and they drave 
 him out of the garden. 
 
 And the Star-Child frowned and said to himself, 
 "What is this that they say to me? I will go to the 
 well of water and look into it, and it shall tell me of 
 my beauty." 
 
 7 6 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 So he went to the well of water and looked into it, 
 and lo! his face was as the face of a toad, and his body 
 was scaled like an adder. And he flung himself down 
 on the grass and wept, and said to himself, "Surely 
 this has come upon me by reason of my sin. For I 
 have denied my mother, and driven her away, and 
 been proud, and cruel to her. Wherefore I will go 
 and seek her through the whole world, nor will I 
 rest till I have found her." 
 
 And there came to him the little daughter of the 
 Woodcutter, and she put her hand upon his shoulder 
 and said, "What does it matter if thou hast lost thy 
 comeliness? Stay with us, and I will not mock at 
 thee." 
 
 And he said to her, "Nay, but I have been cruel 
 to my mother, and as a punishment has this evil been 
 sent to me. Wherefore I must go hence, and wander 
 through the world till I find her, and she give me her 
 forgiveness." 
 
 So he ran away into the forest and called out to 
 his mother to come to him, but there was no answer. 
 All day long he called to her, and when the sun set 
 he lay down to sleep on a bed of leaves, and the birds 
 and the animals fled from him, for they remembered 
 his cruelty, and he was alone save for the toad that 
 watched him, and the slow adder that crawled past. 
 
 And in the morning he rose up, and plucked some 
 bitter berries from the trees and ate them, and took 
 
 77 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 his way through the great wood, weeping sorely. 
 And of everything that he met he made inquiry if 
 perchance they had seen his mother. 
 
 He said to the Mole, "Thou canst go beneath the 
 earth. Tell me, is my mother there?" 
 
 And the Mole answered, "Thou hast blinded mine 
 eyes. How should I know?" 
 
 He said to the Linnet, "Thou canst fly over the 
 tops of the tall trees, and canst see the whole world. 
 Tell me, canst thou see my mother?" 
 
 And the Linnet answered, "Thou hast dipt my 
 wings for thy pleasure. How should I fly?" 
 
 And to the little Squirrel who lived in the fir-tree, 
 and was lonely, he said, "Where is my mother?" 
 
 And the Squirrel answered, "Thou hast slain mine. 
 Dost thou seek to slay thine also?" 
 
 And the Star-Child wept and bowed his head and 
 prayed forgiveness of God's things, and went on 
 through the forest, seeking for the beggar-woman. 
 And on the third day he came to the other side of 
 the forest and went down into the plain. 
 
 And when he passed through the villages the chil- 
 dren mocked him, and threw stones at him, and the 
 carlots would not suffer him to sleep in the byres lest 
 he might bring mildew on the stored corn, so foul 
 was he to look at, and their hired men drave him 
 away, and there was none who had pity on him. Nor 
 could he hear anywhere of the beggar-woman who 
 
 78 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 was his mother, though for the space of three years 
 he wandered over the world, and often seemed to 
 see her on the road in front of him, and would call 
 to her, and run after her till the sharp flints made his 
 feet to bleed. But overtake her he could not, and 
 those who dwelt by the way did ever deny that they 
 had seen her, or any like to her, and they made sport 
 of his sorrow. 
 
 For the space of three years he wandered over 
 the world, and in the world there was neither love 
 nor loving-kindness nor charity for him, but it was 
 even such a world as he had made for himself in the 
 days of his great pride. 
 
 And one evening he came to the gate of a strong- 
 walled city that stood by a river, and, weary and foot- 
 sore though he was, he made to enter in. But the 
 soldiers who stood on guard dropped their halberts 
 across the entrance, and said roughly to him, "What 
 is thy business in the city?" 
 
 "I am seeking for my mother," he answered, "and 
 I pray ye to suffer me to pass, for it may be that she 
 is in this city." 
 
 But they mocked at him, and one of them wagged 
 a black beard, and set down his shield and cried, 
 "Of a truth, thy mother will not be merry when 
 she sees thee, for thou art more ill-favored than 
 the toad of the marsh, or the adder that crawls in the 
 
 79 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 fen. Get thee gone. Get thee gone. Thy mother 
 dwells not in this city." 
 
 And another, who held a yellow banner in his 
 hand, said to him, "Who is thy mother, and where- 
 fore art thou seeking for her?" 
 
 And he answered, "My mother is a beggar even as 
 I am, and I have treated her evilly, and I pray ye to 
 suffer me to pass that she may give me her forgive- 
 ness, if it be that she tarrieth in this city." But they 
 would not, and pricked him with their spears. 
 
 And, as he turned away weeping, one whose armor 
 was inlaid with gilt flowers, and on whose helmet 
 couched a lion that had wings, came up and made 
 inquiry of the soldiers who it was who had sought 
 entrance. And they said to him, "It is a beggar and 
 the child of a beggar, and we have driven him away." 
 
 "Nay," he cried, laughing, "but we will sell the 
 foul thing for a slave, and his price shall be the price 
 of a bowl of sweet wine." 
 
 And an old and evil-visaged man who was pass- 
 ing by called out, and said, "I will buy him for that 
 price," and, when he had paid the price, he took the 
 Star-Child by the hand and led him into the city. 
 
 And after that they had gone through many streets 
 they came to a little door that was set in a wall that 
 was covered with a pomegranate tree. And the old 
 man touched the door with a ring of graved jasper 
 and it opened, and they went down five steps of brass 
 
 80 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 into a garden filled with black poppies and jars of 
 burnt clay. And the old man took then from his 
 turban a scarf of figured silk, and bound with it the 
 eyes of the Star-Child, and drave him in front of 
 him. And when the scarf was taken off his eyes, 
 the Star-Child found himself in a dungeon, that was 
 lit by a lantern of horn. 
 
 And the old man set before him some moldy bread 
 on a trencher and said, "Eat," and some brackish wa- 
 ter in a cup and said, "Drink," and when he had 
 eaten and drunk, the old man went out, locking the 
 door behind him and fastening it with an iron chain. 
 
 And on the morrow the old man, who was indeed 
 the subtlest of the magicians of Libya and had 
 learned his art from one who dwelt in the tombs of 
 the Nile, came in to him and frowned at him, and 
 said, "In a wood that is nigh to the gate of this city 
 of Giaours there are three pieces of gold. One is of 
 white gold, and another is of yellow gold, and the 
 gold of the third one is red. To-day thou shalt bring 
 me the piece of white gold, and if thou bringest 
 it not back, I will beat thee with a hundred stripes. 
 Get thee away quickly, and at sunset I will be wait- 
 ing for thee at the door of the garden. See that thou 
 bringest the white gold, or it shall go ill with thee, 
 for thou art my slave, and I have bought thee for the 
 price of a bowl of sweet wine." And he bound the 
 
 81 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 eyes of the Star-Child with the scarf of figured silk, 
 and led him through the house, and through the gar- 
 den of poppies, and up the five steps of brass. And 
 having opened the little door with his ring he set 
 him in the street. 
 
 And the Star-Child went out of the gate of the city, 
 and came to the wood of which the Magician had 
 spoken to him. 
 
 Now this wood was very fair to look at from with- 
 out, and seemed full of singing birds and of sweet- 
 scented flowers, and the Star-Child entered it gladly. 
 Yet did its beauty profit him little, for wherever he 
 went harsh briars and thorns shot up from the ground 
 and encompassed him, and evil nettles stung him, 
 and the thistle pierced him with her daggers, so that 
 he was in sore distress. Nor could he anywhere find 
 the piece of white gold of which the Magician had 
 spoken, though he sought for it from morn to noon, 
 and from noon to sunset. And at sunset he set his 
 face towards home, weeping bitterly, for he knew 
 what fate was in store for him. 
 
 But when he had reached the outskirts of the 
 wood, he heard from a thicket a cry as of some one 
 in pain. And forgetting his own sorrow he ran back 
 to the place, and saw there a little Hare caught in 
 a trap that some hunter had set for it. 
 
 And the Star-Child had pity on it, and released 
 
 82 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 it, and said to it, "I am myself but a slave, yet may 
 I give thee thy freedom?" 
 
 And the Hare answered him, and said: "Surely 
 thou hast given me freedom, and what shall I give 
 thee in return?" 
 
 And the Star-Child said to it, "I am seeking for 
 a piece of white gold, nor can I anywhere find it, and 
 if I bring it not to my master he will beat me." 
 
 "Come thou with me," said the Hare, "and I will 
 lead thee to it, for I know where it is hidden, and 
 for what purpose." 
 
 So the Star-Child went with the Hare, and lo! 
 in the cleft of a great oak-tree he saw the piece of 
 white gold that he was seeking. And he was filled 
 with joy, and seized it, and said to the Hare, "The 
 service that I did to thee thou hast rendered back 
 again many times over, and the kindness that I 
 showed thee thou hast repaid a hundred-fold." 
 
 "Nay," answered the Hare, "but as thou dealt with 
 me, so I did deal with thee," and it ran away quickly, 
 and the Star-Child went towards the city. 
 
 Now at the gate of the city there was seated one 
 who was a leper. Over his face hung a cowl of gray 
 linen, and through the eyelets his eyes gleamed like 
 red coals. And when he saw the Star-Child coming, 
 he struck upon a wooden bowl, and clattered his bell, 
 and called out to him, and said, "Give me a piece of 
 money, or I must die of hunger. For they have thrust 
 
 83 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 me out of the city, and there is no one who has pity 
 on me." 
 
 "Alas!" cried the Star-Child, "I have but one piece 
 of money in my wallet, and if I bring it not to my 
 master he will beat me, for I am his slave." 
 
 But the leper entreated him, and prayed of him, 
 till the Star-Child had pity, and gave him the piece 
 of white gold. 
 
 And when he came to the Magician's house, the 
 Magician opened to him, and brought him in, and 
 said to him, "Hast thou the piece of white gold?" 
 and the Star-Child answered, "I have it not." So 
 the Magician fell upon him, and beat him, and set 
 before him an empty trencher, and said, "Eat," and 
 an empty cup, and said, "Drink," and flung him 
 again into the dungeon. 
 
 And on the morrow the Magician came to him, 
 and said, "If to-day thou bringest me not the piece 
 of yellow gold, I will surely keep thee as my slave, 
 and give thee three hundred stripes." 
 
 So the Star-Child went to the wood, and all day 
 long he searched for the piece of yellow gold, but 
 nowhere could he find it. And at sunset he sat him 
 down and began to weep, and as he was weeping 
 there came to him the little Hare that he had rescued 
 from the trap. 
 
 And the Hare said to him, "Why art thou weep- 
 ing? And what dost thou seek in the wood?" 
 
 84 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 And the Star-Child answered, "I am seeking for 
 a piece of yellow gold that is hidden here, and if I 
 find it not my master will beat me, and keep me as 
 a slave." 
 
 "Follow me," cried the Hare, and it ran through 
 the wood till it came to a pool of water. And at 
 the bottom of the pool the piece of yellow gold was 
 
 lying- 
 
 "How shall I thank thee?" said the Star-Child, 
 "for lo! this is the second time that you have suc- 
 cored me." 
 
 "Nay, but thou hadst pity on me first," said the 
 Hare, and it ran away swiftly. 
 
 And the Star-Child took the piece of yellow gold, 
 and put it in his wallet, and hurried to the city. But 
 the leper saw him coming, and ran to meet him, and 
 knelt down and cried, "Give me a piece of money or 
 I shall die of hunger." 
 
 And the Star-Child said to him, "I have in my 
 wallet but one piece of yellow gold, and if I bring 
 it not to my master he will beat me and keep me as his 
 slave." 
 
 But the leper entreated him sore, so that the Star- 
 Child had pity on him, and gave him the piece of 
 yellow gold. 
 
 And when he came to the Magician's house, the 
 Magician opened to him and brought him in, and 
 said to him, "Hast thou the piece of yellow gold?" 
 
 85 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 And the Star-Child said to him, "I have it not." So 
 the Magician fell upon him, and beat him, and 
 loaded him with chains, and cast him again into the 
 dungeon. 
 
 And on the morrow the Magician came to him, 
 and said, "If to-day thou bringest me the piece of 
 red gold I will set thee free, but if thou bringest it 
 not I will surely slay thee." 
 
 So the Star-Child went to the wood, and all day 
 long he searched for the piece of red gold, but no- 
 where could he find it. And at evening he sat him 
 down, and wept, and as he was weeping there came 
 to him the little Hare. 
 
 And the Hare said to him, "The piece of red gold 
 that thou seekest is in the cavern that is behind thee. 
 Therefore weep no more but be glad." 
 
 "How shall I reward thee," cried the Star-Child, 
 "for lo! this is the third time thou hast succored me." 
 
 "Nay, but thou hadst pity on me first," said the 
 Hare, and it ran away swiftly. 
 
 And the Star-Child entered the cavern, and in its 
 farthest corner he found the piece of red gold. So 
 he put it in his wallet, and hurried to the city. And 
 the leper seeing him coming, stood in the center of 
 the road, and cried out, and said to him, "Give me 
 the piece of red money, or I must die," and the Star- 
 Child had pity on him again, and gave him the piece 
 of red gold, saying, "Thy need is greater than mine." 
 
 86 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 Yet was his heart heavy, for he knew what evil fate 
 awaited him. 
 
 But lo! as he passed through the gate of the city, 
 the guards bowed down and made obeisance to him, 
 saying, "How beautiful is our lord!" and a crowd 
 of citizens followed him, and cried out, "Surely 
 there is none so beautiful in the whole world!" so 
 that the Star-Child wept, and said to himself, "They 
 are mocking me, and making light of my misery." 
 And so large was the concourse of the people, that 
 he lost the threads of his way, and found himself at 
 last in a great square, in which there was a palace 
 of a King. 
 
 And the gate of the palace opened, and the priests 
 and the high officers of the city ran forth to meet 
 him, and they abased themselves before him, and 
 said, "Thou art our lord for whom we have been 
 waiting, and the son of our King." 
 
 And the Star-Child answered them and said, "I 
 am no king's son, but the child of a poor beggar- 
 woman. And how say ye that I am beautiful, for 
 I know that I am evil to look at?" 
 
 Then he, whose armor was inlaid with gilt flowers, 
 and on whose helmet couched a lion that had wings, 
 held up a shield, and cried, "How saith my lord 
 that he is not beautiful?" 
 
 And the Star-Child looked, and lo! his face was 
 even as it had been, and his comeliness had come 
 
 87 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 back to him, and he saw that in his eyes which he 
 had not seen there before. 
 
 And the priests and the high officers knelt down 
 and said to him, "It was prophesied of old that on 
 this day should come he who was to rule over us. 
 Therefore, let our lord take this crown and this scep- 
 ter, and be in his justice and mercy our King over 
 us." 
 
 But he said to them, "I am not worthy, for I have 
 denied the mother who bare me, nor may I rest till 
 I have found her, and known her forgiveness. 
 Therefore, let me go, for I must wander again over 
 the world, and may not tarry here, though ye bring 
 me the crown and the scepter." And as he spake he 
 turned his face from them towards the street that led 
 to the gate of the city, and lo! amongst the crowd that 
 pressed round the soldiers, he saw the beggar-woman 
 who was his mother, and at her side stood the leper, 
 who had sat by the road. 
 
 And a cry of joy broke from his lips, and he ran 
 over, and kneeling down he kissed the wounds on his 
 mother's feet, and wet them with his tears. He 
 bowed his head in the dust, and sobbing, as one whose 
 heart might break, he said to her: "Mother, I denied 
 thee in the hour of my pride. Accept me in the hour 
 of my humility. Mother, I gave thee hatred. Do 
 thou give me love. Mother, I rejected thee. Re- 
 
 88 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 ceive thy child now." But the beggar-woman an- 
 swered him not a word. 
 
 And he reached out his hands, and clasped the 
 white feet of the leper, and said to him: "Thrice did 
 I give thee of my mercy. Bid my mother speak to 
 me once." But the leper answered him not a word. 
 
 And he sobbed again, and said: "Mother, my suf- 
 fering is greater than I can bear. Give me thy for- 
 giveness, and let me go back to the forest." And the 
 beggar-woman put her hand on his head, and said 
 to him, "Rise," and the leper put his hand on his 
 head, and said to him "Rise," also. 
 
 And he rose up from his feet, and looked at them, 
 and lo! they were a King and a Queen. 
 
 And the Queen said to him, "This is thy father 
 whom thou hast succored." 
 
 And the King said, "This is thy mother, whose 
 feet thou hast washed with thy tears." 
 
 And they fell on his neck and kissed him, and 
 brought him into the palace, and clothed him in fair 
 raiment, and set the crown upon his head, and the 
 scepter in his hand, and over the city that stood by 
 the river he ruled, and was its lord. Much justice 
 and mercy did he show to all, and the evil Magician 
 he banished, and to the Woodcutter and his wife he 
 sent many rich gifts, and to their children he gave 
 high honor. Nor would he suffer any to be cruel 
 to bird or beast, but taught love and loving-kindness 
 
 8 9 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 and charity, and to the poor he gave bread, and to 
 the naked he gave raiment, and there was peace and 
 plenty in the land. 
 
 Yet ruled he not long, so great had been his suf- 
 fering, and so bitter the fire of his testing, for after 
 the space of three years he died. And he who came 
 after him ruled evilly. 
 
 90 
 
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 
 
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 
 
 EVERY evening the young Fisherman went out 
 upon the sea, and threw his nets into the water. 
 
 When the wind blew from the land he caught 
 nothing, or but little at best, for it was a bitter and 
 blackwinged wind, and rough waves rose up to meet 
 it. But when the wind blew to the shore, the fish 
 came in from the deep, and swam into the meshes 
 of his nets, and he took them to the market-place and 
 sold them. 
 
 Every evening he went out upon the sea, and one 
 evening the net was so heavy that hardly could he 
 draw it into the boat. And he laughed, and said to 
 himself, "Surely I have caught all the fish that swim, 
 or snared some dull monster that will be a marvel 
 to men, or some thing of horror that the great Queen 
 will desire," and putting forth all his strength, he 
 tugged at the coarse ropes till, like lines of blue 
 enamel round a vase of bronze, the long veins rose 
 up on his arms. He tugged at the thin ropes, and 
 nearer and nearer came the circle of flat corks, and 
 the net rose at last to the top of the water. 
 
 But no fish at all was in it, nor any monster or 
 
 93 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 thing of horror, but only a little mermaid lying fast 
 asleep. 
 
 Her hair was as a wet fleece of gold, and each 
 separate hair as a thread of fine gold in a cup of glass. 
 Her body was as white ivory, and her tail was of 
 silver and pearl. Silver and pearl was her tail, and 
 the green weeds of the sea coiled round it; and like 
 sea-shells were her ears, and her lips were like sea- 
 coral. The cold waves dashed over her cold breasts, 
 and the salt glistened upon her eyelids. 
 
 So beautiful was she that when the young Fisher- 
 man saw her he was filled with wonder, and he put 
 out his hand and drew the net close to him, and lean- 
 ing over the side he clasped her in his arms. And 
 when he touched her, she gave a cry like a startled 
 sea-gull and woke, and looked at him in terror with 
 her mauve-amethyst eyes, and struggled that she 
 might escape. But he held her tightly to him, and 
 would not suffer her to depart. 
 
 And when she saw that she could in no way escape 
 from him, she began to weep, and said, "I pray thee 
 let me go, for I am the only daughter of a King, and 
 my father is aged and alone." 
 
 But the young Fisherman answered, "I will not let 
 thee go save thou makest me a promise that whenever 
 I call thee, thou wilt come and sing to me, for the 
 fish delight to listen to the song of the Sea-folk, and 
 so shall my nets be full." 
 
 94 
 
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 
 'I pray thee let me go, for I am the only daughter of a 
 King, and my father is aged and alone. ' ' 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Wilt thou in very truth let me go, if I promise 
 thee this?" cried the Mermaid. 
 
 "In very truth I will let thee go," said the young 
 Fisherman. 
 
 So she made him the promise he desired, and 
 sware it by the oath of the Sea-folk. And he loos- 
 ened his arms from about her, and she sank down 
 into the water, trembling with a strange fear. 
 
 Every evening the young Fisherman went out 
 upon the sea, and called to the Mermaid, and she 
 rose out of the water and sang to him. Round and 
 round her swam the dolphins, and the wild gulls 
 wheeled above her head. 
 
 And she sang a marvelous song. For she sang of 
 the Sea-folk who drive their flocks from cave to cave, 
 and carry the little calves on their shoulders; of the 
 Tritons who have long green beards, and hairy 
 breasts, and blow through twisted conchs when the 
 King passes by; of the palace of the King which is 
 all of amber, with a roof of clear emerald, and a 
 pavement of bright pearl; and of the gardens of the 
 sea where the great filigrane fans of coral wave all 
 day long, and the fish dart about like silver birds, and 
 the anemones cling to the rocks, and the pinks 
 bourgeon in the ribbed yellow sand. She sang of 
 the big whales that come down from the north seas 
 and have sharp icicles hanging to their fins; of the 
 
 95 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 Sirens who tell of such wonderful things that the 
 merchants have to stop their ears with wax lest they 
 should hear them, and leap into the water and be 
 drowned; of the sunken galleys with their tall masts, 
 and the frozen sailors clinging to the rigging, and 
 the mackerel swimming in and out of the open port- 
 holes; of the little barnacles who are great travelers, 
 and cling to the keels of the ships and go round and 
 round the world; and of the cuttle-fish who live in 
 the sides of the cliffs and stretch out their long black 
 arms, and can make night come when they will it. 
 She sang of the nautilus who has a boat of her own 
 that is carved out of an opal and steered with a silken 
 sail; of the happy Mermen who play upon harps and 
 can charm the great Kraken to sleep; of the little 
 children who catch hold of the slippery porpoises 
 and ride laughing upon their backs ; of the Mermaids 
 who lie in the white foam and hold out their arms 
 to the mariners ; and of the sea-lions with their curved 
 tusks and the sea-horses with their floating manes. 
 
 And as she sang, all the tunny-fish came in from 
 the deep to listen to her, and the young Fisherman 
 threw his nets round them and caught them, and 
 others he took with a spear. And when his boat was 
 well laden, the Mermaid would sink down into the 
 sea, smiling at him. 
 
 Yet would she never come near him that he might 
 touch her. Oftentimes he called to her, and prayed 
 
 9 6 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 of her, but she would not; and when he sought to 
 seize her she dived into the water as a seal might 
 dive, nor did he see her again that day. And each 
 day the sound of her voice became sweeter to his ears. 
 
 So sweet was her voice that he forgot his nets and 
 his cunning, and had no care of his craft. Vermilion- 
 finned and with eyes of bossy gold, the tunnies went 
 by in shoals, but he heeded them not. His spear lay 
 by his side unused, and his baskets of plaited osier 
 were empty. With lips parted, and eyes dim with 
 wonder, he sat idly in his boat and listened, listening 
 till the sea-mists crept round him, and the wandering 
 moon stained his brown limbs with silver. 
 
 And one evening he called to her, and said: "Lit- 
 tle Mermaid, little Mermaid, I love thee. Take me 
 for thy bridegroom, for I love thee." 
 
 But the Mermaid shook her head. "Thou hast a 
 human soul," she answered. "If only thou would'st 
 send away thy soul, then could I love thee." 
 
 And the young Fisherman said to himself, "Of 
 what use is my soul to me? I cannot see it. I may 
 not touch it. I do not know it. Surely I will send 
 it away from me, and much gladness shall be mine." 
 And a cry of joy broke from his lips, and standing 
 up in the painted boat, he held out his arms to the 
 Mermaid. "I will send my soul away," he cried, 
 "and you shall be my bride, and I will be thy bride- 
 groom, and in the depth of the sea we will dwell 
 
 97 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 together, and all that thou hast sung of thou shalt 
 show me, and all that thou desirest I will do, nor 
 shall our lives be divided." 
 
 And the little Mermaid laughed for pleasure, and 
 hid her face in her hands. 
 
 "But how shall I send my soul from me?" cried 
 the young Fisherman. "Tell me how I may do it, 
 and lo! it shall be done." 
 
 "Alas! I know not," said the little Mermaid: "the 
 Sea-folk have no souls." And she sank down into the 
 deep, looking wistfully at him. 
 
 Now early on the next morning, before the sun 
 was the span of a man's hand above the hill, the 
 young Fisherman went to the house of the Priest and 
 knocked three times at the door. 
 
 The novice looked out through the wicket, and 
 when he saw who it was, he drew back the latch and 
 said to him, "Enter." 
 
 And the young Fisherman passed in, and knelt 
 down on the sweet-smelling rushes of the floor, and 
 cried to the Priest who was reading out of the Holy 
 Book and said to him, "Father, I am in love with 
 one of the Sea-folk, and my soul hindereth me from 
 having my desire. Tell me how I can send my soul 
 away from me, for in truth I have no need of it. Of 
 what value is my soul to me? I cannot see it. I may 
 not touch it. I do not know it." 
 
 And the Priest beat his breast, and answered, 
 
 9 8 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Alack, Alack, thou art mad, or hast eaten some poi- 
 sonous herb, for the soul is the noblest part of man, 
 and was given to us by God that we should nobly use 
 it. There is no thing more precious than a human 
 soul, nor any earthly thing that can be weighted with 
 it. It is worth all the gold that is in the world, and 
 is more precious than the rubies of the kings. There- 
 fore, my son, think not any more of this matter, for 
 it is a sin that may not be forgiven. And as for the 
 Sea-folk, they are lost, and they who would traffic 
 with them are lost also. They are as the beasts of 
 the field that know not good from evil, and for them 
 the Lord has not died." 
 
 The young Fisherman's eyes filled with tears when 
 he heard the bitter words of the Priest, and he rose 
 up from his knees and said to him, "Father, the 
 Fauns live in the forest and are glad, and on the rocks 
 sit the Mermen with their harps of red gold. Let me 
 be as they are, I beseech thee, for their days are as 
 the days of flowers, and as for my soul, what doth my 
 soul profit me, if it stand between me and the thing 
 that I love?" 
 
 "The love of the body is vile," cried the Priest, 
 knitting his brows, "and vile and evil are the pagan 
 things God suffers to wander through His world. 
 Accursed be the Fauns of the woodland, and ac- 
 cursed be the singers of the sea! I have heard them 
 at night-time, and they have sought to lure me from 
 
 99 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 my beads. They tap at the window, and laugh. 
 They whisper into my ears the tale of their perilous 
 joys. They tempt me with temptations, and when I 
 would pray they make mouths at me. They are lost, 
 I tell thee, they are lost. For them there is no heaven 
 nor hell, and in neither shall they praise God's 
 name." 
 
 "Father,' cried the young Fisherman, "thou know- 
 est not what thou sayest. Once in my net I snared the 
 daughter of a King. She is fairer than the morning 
 star, and whiter than the moon. For her body I 
 would give my soul, and for her love I would sur- 
 render heaven. Tell me what I ask of thee, and let 
 me go in peace." 
 
 "Away! away!" cried the Priest: "thy leman is 
 lost, and thou shalt be lost with her." And he gave 
 him no blessing, but drove him from his door. 
 
 And the young Fisherman went down into the 
 market-place, and he walked slowly, and with bowed 
 head, as one who is in sorrow. 
 
 And when the merchants saw him coming, they 
 began to whisper to each other, and one of them 
 came forth to meet him, and called him by name, 
 and said to him, "What hast thou to sell?" 
 
 "I will sell thee my soul," he answered: "I pray 
 thee buy it off me, for I am weary of it. Of what 
 use is my soul to me? I cannot see it. I may not 
 touch it. I do not know it." 
 
 ioo 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 But the merchants mocked at him, and said, "Of 
 what use is a man's soul to us? It is not worth a 
 clipped piece of silver. Sell us thy body for a slave, 
 and we will clothe thee in sea-purple, and put a ring 
 upon thy finger, and make thee the minion of the 
 great Queen. But talk not of the soul, for to us it 
 is nought, nor has it any value for our service." 
 
 And the young Fisherman said to himself: "How 
 strange a thing this is! The Priest telleth me that 
 the soul is worth all the gold in the world, and the 
 merchants say that it is not worth a clipped piece of 
 silver." And he passed out of the market-place, and 
 went down to the shore of the sea, and began to pon- 
 der on what he should do. 
 
 And at noon he remembered how one of his com- 
 panions, who was a gatherer of samphire, had told 
 him of a certain young Witch who dwelt in a cave 
 at the head of the bay and was very cunning in her 
 witcheries. And he set to and ran, so eager was he 
 to get rid of his soul, and a cloud of dust followed 
 him as he sped round the sand of the shore. By the 
 itching of her palm the young Witch knew his com- 
 ing, and she laughed and let down her red hair. With 
 her red hair falling around her, she stood at the 
 opening of the cave, and in her hand she had a spray 
 of wild hemlock that was blossoming. 
 
 "What d'ye lack? What d'ye lack?" she cried, as 
 
 IOI 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 he came panting up the steep, and bent down before 
 her. "Fish for thy net, when the wind is foul? I 
 have a little reed-pipe, and when I blow on it the 
 mullet come sailing into the bay. But it has a price, 
 pretty boy, it has a price. What d'ye lack? What 
 d'ye lack? A storm to wreck the ships, and wash 
 the chests of rich treasure ashore? I have more 
 storms than the wind has, for I serve one who is 
 stronger than the wind, and with a sieve and a pail 
 of water I can send the great galleys to the bottom 
 of the sea. But I have a price, pretty boy, I have 
 a price. What d'ye lack? What d'ye lack? I know 
 a flower that grows in the valley, none knows it but 
 I. It has purple leaves, and a star in its heart, and 
 its juice is as white as milk. Should'st thou touch 
 with this flower the hard lips of the Queen, she 
 would follow thee all over the world. Out of the 
 bed of the King she would rise, and over the whole 
 world she would follow thee. And it has a price, 
 pretty boy, it has a price. What d'ye lack? What 
 d'ye lack? I can pound a toad in a mortar, and make 
 broth of it and stir the broth with a dead man's hand. 
 Sprinkle it on thine enemy while he sleeps, and he 
 will turn into a black viper, and his own mother will 
 slay him. With a wheel I can draw the Moon from 
 heaven, and in a crystal I can show thee Death. What 
 d'ye lack? What d'ye lack? Tell me thy desire, and 
 
 102 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 I will give it thee, and thou shalt pay me a price, 
 pretty boy, thou shalt pay me a price." 
 
 "My desire is but for a little thing," said the young 
 Fisherman, "yet hath the priest been wroth with me, 
 and driven me forth. It is but for a little thing, and 
 the merchants have mocked at me, and denied me. 
 Therefore am I come to thee, though men call thee 
 evil, and whatever be thy price I shall pay it." 
 
 "What would'st thou?" asked the Witch, coming 
 near to him. 
 
 "I would send my soul away from me," answered 
 the young Fisherman. 
 
 The Witch grew pale and shuddered, and hid her 
 face in her blue mantle. "Pretty boy, pretty boy," 
 she muttered, "that is a terrible thing to do." 
 
 He tossed his brown curls and laughed. "My soul 
 is nought to me," he answered. "I cannot see it. I 
 may not touch it. I do not know it." 
 
 "What wilt thou give me if I tell thee?" asked the 
 Witch, looking down at him with her beautiful eyes. 
 
 "Five pieces of gold," he said, "and my nets, and 
 the wattled house where I live, and the painted boat 
 in which I sail. Only tell me how to get rid of my 
 soul, and I will give thee all that I possess." 
 
 She laughed mockingly at him, and struck him 
 with the spray of hemlock. "I can turn the autumn 
 leaves into gold," she answered, "and I can weave 
 the pale moonbeams into silver if I will it. He 
 
 103 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 whom I serve is richer than all the kings of this 
 world and has their dominions." 
 
 "What then shall I give thee," he cried, "if thy 
 price be neither gold nor silver?" 
 
 The Witch stroked his hair with her thin white 
 hand. "Thou must dance with me, pretty boy," she 
 murmured, and she smiled at him as she spoke. 
 
 "Nought but that?" cried the young Fisherman in 
 wonder, and he rose to his feet. 
 
 "Nought but that," she answered, and she smiled 
 at him again. 
 
 "Then at sunset in some secret place we shall dance 
 together," he said, "and after that we have danced 
 thou shalt tell me the thing which I desire to know." 
 
 She shook her head. "When the moon is full, 
 when the moon is full," she muttered. Then she 
 peered all round, and listened. A blue bird rose 
 screaming from its nest and circled over the dunes, 
 and three spotted birds rustled through the coarse 
 gray grass, and whistled to each other. There was 
 no other sound save the sound of a wave fretting the 
 smooth pebbles below. So she reached out her hand, 
 and drew him near to her and put her dry lips close 
 to his ear. 
 
 "To-night thou must come to the top of the moun- 
 tain," she whispered, "It is a Sabbath, and He will 
 be there." 
 
 The young Fisherman started and looked at her, 
 
 104 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 and she showed her white teeth and laughed. "Who 
 is He of whom thou speakest?" he asked. 
 
 "It matters not," she answered. "Go thou to-night, 
 and stand under the branches of the hornbeam, and 
 wait for my coming. If a black dog run towards 
 thee, strike it with a rod of willow, and it will go 
 away. If an owl speak to thee, make it no answer. 
 When the moon is full I shall be with thee, and we 
 will dance together on the grass." 
 
 "But wilt thou swear to me to tell me how I may 
 send my soul from me?" he made question. 
 
 She moved out into the sunlight, and through her 
 red hair rippled the wind. "By the hoofs of the goat 
 I swear it," she made answer. 
 
 "Thou art the best of the witches," cried the young 
 Fisherman, "and I will surely dance with thee to- 
 night on the top of the mountain. I would indeed 
 that thou hadst asked of me either gold or silver. But 
 such as thy price is thou shalt have it, for it is but a 
 little thing." And he doffed his cap to her, and bent 
 his head low, and ran back to the town filled with a 
 great joy. 
 
 And the Witch watched him as he went, and when 
 he had passed from her sight she entered her cave, 
 and having taken a mirror from a box of carved 
 cedarwood, she set it up on a frame, and burned 
 vervain on lighted charcoal before it, and peered 
 through the coils of the smoke. And after a time 
 
 105 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 she clenched her hands in anger. "He should have 
 been mine," she muttered, "I am as fair as she is." 
 
 And that evening, when the moon had risen, the 
 young Fisherman climbed up to the top of the moun- 
 tain, and stood under the branches of the hornbeam. 
 Like a targe of polished metal the round sea lay at 
 his feet, and the shadows of the fishing boats moved 
 in the little bay. A great owl, with yellow sulphur- 
 ous eyes, called to him by his name, but he made it 
 no answer. A black dog ran towards him and 
 snarled. He struck it with a rod of willow, and it 
 went away whining. 
 
 At midnight the witches came flying through the 
 air like bats. "Phew!" they cried, as they lit upon 
 the ground, "there is some one here we know not!" 
 and they sniffed about, and chattered to each other, 
 and made signs. Last of all came the young Witch, 
 with her red hair streaming in the wind. She wore 
 a dress of gold tissue embroidered with peacock's 
 eyes, and a little cap of green velvet was on her head. 
 
 "Where is he, where is he?" shrieked the witches 
 when they saw her, but she only laughed, and ran to 
 the hornbeam, and taking the Fisherman by the hand 
 she led him out into the moonlight and began to 
 dance. 
 
 Round and round they whirled, and the young 
 Witch jumped so high that he could see the scarlet 
 
 1 06 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 heels of her shoes. Then right across the dancers 
 came the sound of the galloping of a horse, but no 
 horse was to be seen, and he felt afraid. 
 
 "Faster," cried the Witch, and she threw her arms 
 about his neck, and her breath was hot upon his face. 
 "Faster, faster!" she cried, and the earth seemed to 
 spin beneath his feet, and his brain grew troubled, 
 and a great terror fell on him, as of some evil thing 
 that was watching him, and at last he became aware 
 that under the shadow of a rock there was a figure 
 that had not been there before. 
 
 It was a man dressed in a suit of black velvet, cut 
 in the Spanish fashion. His face was strangely paJe, 
 but his lips were like a proud red flower. He seemed 
 weary, and was leaning back toying in a listless man- 
 ner with the pommel of his dagger. On the grass 
 beside him lay a plumed hat, and a pair of riding 
 gloves gauntleted with gilt lace, and sewn with seed- 
 pearls wrought into a curious device. A short cloak 
 lined with sables hung from his shoulder, and his 
 delicate white hands were gemmed with rings. 
 Heavy eyelids drooped over his eyes. 
 
 The young Fisherman watched him, as one snared 
 in a spell. At last their eyes met, and wherever he 
 danced it seemed to him that the eyes of the man 
 were upon him. He heard the Witch laugh, and 
 caught her by the waist, and whirled her madly 
 round and round. 
 
 107 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 Suddenly a dog bayed in the wood, and the dancers 
 stopped, and going up two by two, knelt down, and 
 kissed the man's hands. As they did so, a little smile 
 touched his proud lips, as a bird's wing touches the 
 water and makes it laugh. But there was disdain in 
 it. He kept looking at the young Fisherman. 
 
 "Come! let us worship," whispered the Witch, and 
 she led him up, and a great desire to do as she be- 
 sought him seized on him, and he followed her. But 
 when he came close, and without knowing why he 
 did it, he made on his breast the sign of the Cross, 
 and called upon the holy name. 
 
 No sooner had he done so than the witches 
 screamed like hawks and flew away, and the pallid 
 face that had been watching him twitched with a 
 spasm of pain. The man went over to a little wood, 
 and whistled. A jennet with silver trappings came 
 running to meet him. As he leapt upon the saddle 
 he turned round, and looked at the young Fisherman 
 sadly. 
 
 And the Witch with the red hair tried to fly away 
 also, but the Fisherman caught her by her wrists, 
 and held her fast. 
 
 "Loose me," she cried, "and let me go. For thou 
 hast named what should not be named, and shown 
 the sign that may not be looked at." 
 
 "Nay," he answered, "but I will not let thee go 
 till thou hast told me the secret." 
 
 1 08 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "What secret?" said the Witch, wrestling with 
 him like a wild cat, and biting her foam-flecked lips. 
 
 "Thou knowest," he made answer. 
 
 Her grass-green eyes grew dim with tears, and she 
 said to the Fisherman, "Ask me anything but that." 
 
 He laughed, and held her all the more tightly. 
 
 And when she saw that she could not free herself, 
 she whispered to him, "Surely I am as fair as the 
 daughters of the sea, and as comely as those that 
 dwell in the blue waters," and she fawned on him 
 and put her face close to his. 
 
 But he thrust her back frowning, and said to her, 
 "If thou keepest not the promise that thou madest 
 to me I will slay thee for a false witch." 
 
 She grew gray as a blossom of the Judas tree, and 
 shuddered. "Be it so,' she muttered. "It is thy soul 
 and not mine. Do with it as thou wilt." And she 
 took from her girdle a little knife that had a handle 
 of green viper's skin, and gave it to him. 
 
 "What shall this serve me?" he asked of her won- 
 dering. 
 
 She was silent for a few moments, and a look of 
 terror came over her face. Then she brushed her 
 hair back from her forehead, and smiling strangely 
 she said to him, "What men call the shadow of the 
 body is not the shadow of the body, but is the body 
 of the soul. Stand on the seashore with thy back to 
 the moon, and cut away from around thy feet thy 
 
 109 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 shadow, which is thy soul's body, and bid thy soul 
 leave thee, and it will do so." 
 
 The young Fisherman trembled. "Is this true?" 
 he murmured. 
 
 "It is true, and I would that I had not told thee 
 of it," she cried, and she clung to his knees weeping. 
 
 He put her from him and left her in the rank grass, 
 and going to the edge of the mountain he placed the 
 knife in his belt, and began to climb down. 
 
 And his Soul that was within him called out to 
 him and said, "Lo! I have dwelt with thee for all 
 these years, and have been thy servant. Send me not 
 away from thee now, for what evil have I done 
 thee?" 
 
 And the young Fisherman laughed. "Thou hast 
 done me no evil, but I have no need of thee," he an- 
 swered. "The world is wide, and there is Heaven 
 also, and Hell, and that dim twilight house that lies 
 between. Go wherever thou wilt, but trouble me not r 
 for my love is calling to me." 
 
 And his Soul besought him piteously, but he 
 heeded it not, but leapt from crag to crag, being sure- 
 footed as a wild goat, and at last he reached the level 
 ground and the yellow shore of the sea. 
 
 Bronze-limbed and well-knit, like a statue wrought 
 by a Grecian, he stood on the sand with his back to 
 the moon, and out of the foam came white arms that 
 beckoned to him, and out of the waves rose dim forms 
 
 no 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 that did him homage. Before him lay his shadow, 
 which was the body of the soul, and behind him hung 
 the moon in the honey-colored air. 
 
 And his Soul said to him, "If indeed thou must 
 drive me from thee, send me not forth without a 
 heart. The world is cruel, give me thy heart to take 
 with me." 
 
 He tossed his head and smiled. "With what should 
 I love my love if I gave thee my heart?" he cried. 
 
 "Nay, but be merciful, said his Soul: "give me 
 thy heart, for the world is very cruel, and I am 
 afraid." 
 
 "My heart is my love's," he answered, "therefore 
 tarry not, but get thee gone." 
 
 "Should I not love also?" asked his Soul. 
 
 "Get thee gone, for I have no need of thee," cried 
 the young Fisherman, and he took the little knife 
 with its handle of green viper's spin, and cut away 
 his shadow from around his feet, and it rose up and 
 stood before him, and looked at him, and it was even 
 as himself. 
 
 He crept back and thrust the knife into his belt, 
 and a feeling of awe came over him. "Get thee 
 gone," he murmured, "and let me see thy face no 
 more." 
 
 "Nay, but we must meet again," said the Soul. Its 
 voice was low and flute-like, and its lips hardly 
 moved while it spake. 
 
 in 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "How shall we meet?" cried the young Fisherman. 
 "Thou wilt not follow me into the depths of the sea?" 
 
 "Once every year I will come to this place, and 
 call to thee," said the Soul. "It may be that thou 
 wilt have need of me." 
 
 "What need should I have of thee?" cried the 
 young Fisherman, "but be it as thou wilt," and he 
 plunged into the water, and the Tritons blew their 
 horns, and the little Mermaid rose up to meet him, 
 and put her arms around his neck and kissed him on 
 the mouth. 
 
 And the Soul stood on the lonely beach and 
 watched them. And when they had sunk down into 
 the sea, it went weeping away over the marshes. 
 
 And after a year was over the Soul came down to 
 the shore of the sea and called to the young Fisher- 
 man, and he rose out of the deep and said, "Why 
 dost thou call to me?" 
 
 And the Soul answered, "Come nearer, that I may 
 speak with thee, for I have seen marvelous things." 
 
 So he came nearer, and crouched in the shallow 
 water, and leaned his head upon his hand and lis- 
 tened. 
 
 And the Soul said to him, "When I left thee I 
 turned my face to the East and journeyed. From the 
 East cometh everything that is wise. Six days I jour- 
 
 112 
 
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 
 
 ' Get thee gone for I have no need of thee, ' ' cried the young fisherman. 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 neyed, and on the morning of the seventh day I came 
 to a hill that is in the country of the Tartars. I sat 
 down under the shade of a tamarisk tree to shelter 
 myself from the sun. The land was dry, and burnt 
 up with the heat. The people went to and fro over 
 the plain like flies crawling upon a disk of polished 
 copper. 
 
 "When it was noon a cloud of red dust rose up 
 from the flat rim of the land. When the Tartars saw 
 it, they strung their painted bows, and having leapt 
 upon their little horses they galloped to meet it. The 
 women fled to the wagons, and hid themselves be- 
 hind the felt curtains. 
 
 "At twilight the Tartars returned, but five of them 
 were missing, and of those that came back not a few 
 had been wounded. They harnessed their horses 
 to the wagons and drove hastily away. Three jack- 
 als came out of a cave and peered after them. Then 
 they sniffed up the air with their nostrils, and trotted 
 off in the opposite direction. 
 
 "When the moon rose I saw a campflre burning 
 on the plain, and went towards it. A company of 
 merchants were seated round it on carpets. Their 
 camels were picketed behind them, and the negroes 
 who were their servants were pitching tents of tanned 
 skin upon the sand, and making a high wall of the 
 prickly pear. 
 
 "As I came near them, the chief of the merchants 
 
 "3 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 rose up and drew his sword, and asked me my busi- 
 ness. 
 
 "I answered that I was a prince in my own land, 
 and that I had escaped from the Tartars, who had 
 sought to make me their slave. The chief smiled, 
 and showed me five heads fixed upon long reeds of 
 bamboo. 
 
 "Then he asked me who was the prophet of God, 
 and I answered him Mohammed. 
 
 "When he heard the name of the false prophet, 
 he bowed and took me by the hand, and placed me 
 by his side. A negro brought me some mare's milk 
 in a wooden dish, and a piece of lamb's flesh roasted. 
 
 "At daybreak we started on our journey. I rode 
 on a red-haired camel by the side of the chief, and a 
 runner ran before us carrying a spear. The men of 
 war were on either hand, and the mules followed 
 with the merchandise. There were forty camels in 
 the caravan, and the mules were twice forty in num- 
 ber. 
 
 "We went from the country of the Tartars into the 
 country of those who curse the Moon. We saw the 
 Gryphons guarding their gold on the white rocks, 
 and the scaled Dragons sleeping in their caves. As 
 we passed over the mountains we held our breath lest 
 the snows might fall on us, and each man tied a veil 
 of gauze before his eyes. As we passed through the 
 valleys the Pygmies shot arrows at us from the hol- 
 
 114 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 lows of the trees, and at night time we heard the wild 
 men beating on their drums. When we came to the 
 Tower of Apes we set fruits before them, and they 
 did not harm us. When we came to the Tower of 
 Serpents we gave them warm milk in bowls of brass, 
 and they let us go by. Three times in our journey 
 we came to the banks of the Oxus. We crossed it on 
 rafts of wood with great bladders of blown hide. 
 The river-horses raged against us and sought to slay 
 us. When the camels saw them they trembled. 
 
 "The kings of each city levied tolls on us, but 
 would not suffer us to enter their gates. They threw 
 bread over the walls, little maize-cakes baked in 
 honey and cakes of fine flour filled with dates. For 
 every hundred baskets we gave them a bead of amber. 
 
 "When the dwellers in the villages saw us coming, 
 they poisoned the wells and fled to the hill-summits. 
 We fought with the Magadae who are born old, and 
 grow younger and younger every year, and die when 
 they are little children; and with the Laktroi who 
 say that they are the sons of tigers, and paint them- 
 selves yellow and black; and with the Aurantes who 
 bury their dead on the tops of trees, and themselves 
 live in dark caverns lest the Sun, who is their god, 
 should slay them; and with the Krimnians who wor- 
 ship a crocodile, and give it earrings of green glass, 
 and feed it with butter and fresh fowls; and with 
 the Agazonbae, who are dog-faced; and with the 
 
 ii5 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 Sidans, who have horses' feet, and run more swiftly 
 than horses. A third of our company died in battle, 
 and a third died of want. The rest murmured 
 against me, and said that I had brought them an evil 
 fortune. I took a horned adder from beneath a stone, 
 and let it sting me. When they saw that I did not 
 sicken they grew afraid. 
 
 "In the fourth month we reached the city of Illel. 
 It was night time when we came to the grove that is 
 outside the walls, and the air was sultry, for the 
 Moon was traveling in Scorpion. We took the ripe 
 pomegranates from the trees, and brake them and 
 drank their sweet juices. Then we lay down on our 
 carpets and waited for the dawn. 
 
 "And at dawn we rose and knocked at the gate of 
 the city. It was wrought out of red bronze, and 
 carved with sea-dragons and dragons that have 
 wings. The guards looked down from the battle- 
 ments, and asked us our business. The interpreter 
 of the caravan answered that we had come from the 
 island of Syria with much merchandise. They took 
 hostages, and told us that they would open the gate 
 to us at noon, and bade us tarry till then. 
 
 "When it was noon they opened the gate, and as 
 we entered in the people came crowding out of the 
 houses to look at us, and a crier went round the city 
 crying through a shell. We stood in the market- 
 place, and the negroes uncorded the bales of figured 
 
 116 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 cloths and opened the carved chests of sycamore. 
 And when they had ended their task, the merchants 
 set forth their strange wares, the waxed linen from 
 Egypt and the painted linen from the country of the 
 Ethiops, the purple sponges from Tyre and the 
 blue hangings from Sidon, the cups of cold amber 
 and the fine vessels of glass and the curious vessels of 
 burnt clay. From the roof of a house a company of 
 women watched us. One of them wore a mask of 
 gilded leather. 
 
 "And on the first day the priests came and bartered 
 with us, and on the second day came the nobles, and 
 on the third day came the craftsmen and the slaves. 
 And this is their custom with all merchants as long 
 as they tarry in the city. 
 
 "And we tarried for a moon, and when the moon 
 was waning, I wearied and wandered away through 
 the streets of the city and came to the garden of its 
 god. The priests in their yellow robes moved silently 
 through the green trees, and on a pavement of black 
 marble stood the rose-red house in which the god has 
 his dwelling. Its doors were of powered lacquer, 
 and bulls and peacocks were wrought on them in 
 raised and polished gold. The tiled roof was of sea- 
 green porcelain, and the jutting eaves were festooned 
 with little bells. When the white doves flew past, 
 they struck the bells with their wings and made them 
 tinkle. 
 
 117 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "In front of the temple was a pool of clear water 
 paved with veined onyx. I lay down beside it, and 
 with my pale fingers I touched the broad leaves. 
 One of the priests came towards me and stood behind 
 me. He had sandals on his feet, one of soft serpent- 
 skin and the other of birds' plumage. On his head 
 was a miter of black felt decorated with silver cres- 
 cents. Seven yellows were woven into his robe, and 
 his frizzed hair was stained with antimony. 
 
 "After a little while he spake to me, and asked me 
 my desire. 
 
 "I told him that my desire was to see the god. 
 
 " 'The god is hunting,' said the priest, looking 
 strangely at me with his small slanting eyes. 
 
 " 'Tell me in what forest, and I will ride with him,' 
 I answered. 
 
 "He combed out the soft fringes of his tunic with 
 his long pointed nails. 
 
 " 'The god is asleep,' he murmured. 
 
 " 'Tell me on what couch, and I will watch by 
 him,' I answered. 
 
 " 'The god is at the feast,' he cried. 
 
 " 'If the wine be sweet I will drink it with him, 
 and if it be bitter I will drink it with him also,' was 
 my answer. 
 
 "He bowed his head in wonder, and, taking me by 
 the hand, he raised me up, and led me into the tem- 
 ple. 
 
 118 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "And in the first chamber I saw an idol seated on 
 a throne of jasper bordered with great orient pearls. 
 It was carved out of the ebony, and in stature was of 
 the stature of a man. On its forehead was a ruby, 
 and thick oil dripped from its hair on to its thighs. 
 Its feet were red with the blood of a newly-slain kid, 
 and its loins girt with a copper belt that was studded 
 with seven beryls. 
 
 "And I said to the priest, 'Is this the god?' And 
 he answered me, 'This is the god.' 
 
 " 'Show me the god,' I cried, 'or I will surely slay 
 thee.' And I touched his hand, and it became with- 
 ered. 
 
 "And the priest besought me, saying, 'Let my lord 
 heal his servant, and I will show him the god.' 
 
 "So I breathed with my breath upon his hand, and 
 it became whole again, and he trembled and led me 
 into the second chamber, and I saw an idol standing 
 on a lotus of jade hung with great emeralds. It was 
 carved out of ivory, and in stature was twice the 
 stature of a man. On its forehead was a chrysolite 
 and its breasts were smeared with myrrh and cinna- 
 mon. In one hand it held a crooked scepter of jade, 
 and in the other a round crystal. It ware buskins of 
 brass, and its thick neck was circled with a circle of 
 selenites. 
 
 "And I said to the priest, 'Is this the god?' And 
 he answered me, 'This is the god.' 
 
 119 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 " 'Show me the god,' I cried, 'or I will surely slay 
 thee,' and I touched his eyes, and they became blind. 
 
 "And the priest besought me, saying, 'Let my lord 
 heal his servant, and I will show him the god.' 
 
 "So I breathed with my breath upon his eyes, and 
 the sight came back to them, and he trembled again, 
 and led me into the third chamber, and lo! there was 
 no idol in it, nor image of any kind, but only a mirror 
 of round metal set on an altar of stone. 
 
 "And I said to the priest, 'Where is the god?' 
 
 "And he answered me: 'There is no god but this 
 mirror that thou seest, for this is the Mirror of Wis- 
 dom. And it reflecteth all things that are in heaven 
 and on earth, save only the face of him who looketh 
 into it. This it reflecteth not, so that he who looketh 
 into it may be wise. Many other mirrors are there, 
 but they are Mirrors of Opinion. This only is the 
 Mirror of Wisdom. And they who possess this mir- 
 ror know everything, nor is there anything hidden 
 from them. And they who possess it not have not 
 Wisdom. Therefore is it the god, and we worship 
 it' And I looked into the mirror, and it was even 
 as he had said to me. 
 
 "And I did a strange thing, but what I did matters 
 not, for in a valley that is but a day's journey from 
 this place have I hidden the Mirror of Wisdom. Do 
 but suffer me to enter into thee again and be thy serv- 
 ant, and thou shalt be wiser than all the wise men, 
 
 1 20 
 
THE FISHERMAN AND HIS SOUL 
 
 ' Faster, faster !" she cried and the earth teemed to spin beneath his feet. 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 and Wisdom shall be thine. Suffer me to enter into 
 thee, and none will be as wise as thou." 
 
 But the young Fisherman laughed. "Love is bet- 
 ter than Wisdom," he cried, "and the little Mermaid 
 loves me." 
 
 "Nay, but there is nothing better than Wisdom," 
 said the Soul. 
 
 "Love is better," answered the young Fisherman, 
 and he plunged into the deep, and the Soul went 
 weeping away over the marshes. 
 
 And after the second year was over the Soul came 
 down to the shore of the sea, and called to the young 
 Fisherman, and he rose out of the deep and said, 
 "Why dost thou call me?" 
 
 And the Soul answered, "Come nearer that I may 
 speak with thee, for I have seen marvelous things." 
 So he came nearer, and crouched in the shallow wa- 
 ter, and leaned his head upon his hand and listened. 
 
 And the Soul said to him, "When I left thee, I 
 turned my face to the South and journeyed. From 
 the South cometh everything that is precious. Six 
 days I journeyed along the highways that lead to the 
 city of Ashter, along the dusty red-dyed highways 
 by which the pilgrims are wont to go did I journey, 
 and on the morning of the seventh day I lifted up my 
 eyes, and lo! the city lay at my feet, for it is in a 
 valley. 
 
 121 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "There are nine gates to this city, and in front of 
 each gate stands a bronze horse that neighs when the 
 Bedouins come down from the mountains. The 
 walls are cased with copper, and the watch-towers 
 on the walls are roofed with brass. In every tower 
 stands an archer with a bow in hand. At sunrise he 
 strikes with an arrow on a gong, and at sunset he 
 blows through a horn of horn. 
 
 "When I sought to enter, the guards stopped me 
 and asked of me who I was. I made answer that I 
 was a Dervish and on my way to the city of Mecca, 
 where there was a green veil on which the Koran was 
 embroidered in silver letters by the hands of the 
 angels. They were filled with wonder, and en- 
 treated me to pass in. 
 
 "Inside it is even as a bazaar. Surely thou 
 should'st have been with me. Across the narrow 
 streets the gay lanterns of paper flutter like large 
 butterflies. When the wind blows over the roof they 
 rise and fall as painted bubbles do. In front of their 
 booths sit the merchants on silken carpets. They 
 have straight black beards, and their turbans are 
 covered with golden sequins, long strings of amber 
 and carved peach-stones glide through their cool 
 fingers. Some of them sell galabanum and nard, and 
 curious perfumes from the islands of the Indian Sea, 
 and the thick oil of red roses, and myrrh and little 
 nail-shaped cloves. When one stops to speak to 
 
 122 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 them, they throw pinches of frankincense upon a 
 charcoal brazier and make the air sweet. I saw a 
 Syrian who held in his hands a thin rod like a reed. 
 Gray threads of smoke came from it, and its odor as 
 it burned was as the odor of the pink almond in 
 spring. Others sell silver bracelets embossed all 
 over with creamy blue turquoise stones, and anklets 
 of brass wire fringed with little pearls, and tigers' 
 claws set in gold, and the claws of that gilt cat, the 
 leopard, set in gold also, and ear-rings of pierced 
 emerald, and finger-rings of hollowed jade. From 
 the tea-houses comes the sound of the guitar, and the 
 opium-smokers with their white smiling faces look 
 out at the passers-by. 
 
 "Of a truth thou should'st have been with me. The 
 wine-sellers elbow their way through the crowd with 
 great black skins on their shoulders. Most of them 
 sell the wine of Schiraz, which is as sweet as honey. 
 They serve it in little metal cups and strew rose leaves 
 upon it. In the market-place stand the fruitsellers, 
 who sell all kinds of fruit: ripe figs, with their 
 bruised purple flesh, melons, smelling of musk and 
 yellow as topazes, citrons and rose-apples and clusters 
 of white grapes, round red-gold oranges, and oval 
 lemons of green gold. Once I saw an elephant go 
 by. Its trunk was painted with vermilion and tur- 
 meric, and over its ears it had a net of crimson silk 
 cord. It stopped opposite one of the booths and be- 
 
 123 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 gan eating the oranges, and the man only laughed. 
 Thou canst not think how strange a people they are. 
 When they are glad they go to the bird-sellers and 
 buy them a caged bird, and set it free that their joy 
 may be greater, and when they are sad they scourge 
 themselves with thorns that their sorrow may no' 
 grow less. 
 
 "One evening I met some negroes carrying a heavy 
 palanquin through the bazaar. It was made of 
 gilded bamboo, and the poles were of vermilion 
 lacquer studded with brass peacocks. Across the 
 windows hung thin curtains of muslin embroidered 
 with beetles' wings and with tiny seed-pearls, and as 
 it passed by a pale-faced Circassian looked out and 
 smiled at me. I followed behind, and the negroes 
 hurried their steps and scowled. But I did not care. 
 I felt a great curiosity come over me. 
 
 "At last they stopped at a square white house. 
 There were no windows to it, only a little door like 
 the door of a tomb. They set down the palanquin 
 and knocked three times with a copper hammer. An 
 Armenian in a caftan of green leather peered through 
 the wicket, and when he saw them he opened, and 
 spread a carpet on the ground, and the woman 
 stepped out. As she went in, she turned round and 
 smiled at me again. I had never seen any one so 
 pale. 
 
 "When the moon rose I returned to the same place 
 
 124 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 and sought for the house, but it was no longer there. 
 When I saw that, I knew who the woman was, and 
 wherefore she had smiled at me. 
 
 "Certainly thou should'st have been with me. On 
 the feast of the New Moon the young Emperor came 
 forth from his palace and went into the mosque to 
 pray. His hair and beard were dyed with rose- 
 leaves, and his cheeks were powdered with a fine 
 gold dust. The palms of his feet and hands were 
 yellow with saffron. 
 
 "At sunrise he went forth from his palace in a 
 robe of silver, and at sunset he returned to it again 
 in a robe of gold. The people flung themselves on 
 the ground and hid their faces, but I would not do 
 so. I stood by the stall of a seller of dates and 
 waited. When the Emperor saw me, he raised his 
 painted eyebrows and stopped. I stood quite still, 
 and made him no obeisance. The people marveled 
 at my boldness, and counseled me to flee from the city. 
 I paid no heed to them, but went and sat with the 
 sellers of strange gods, who by reason of their craft 
 are abominated. When I told them what I had done, 
 each of them gave me a god and prayed me to leave 
 them. 
 
 "That night, as I lay on a cushion in the tea-house 
 that is in the Street of Pomegranates, the guards of 
 the Emperor entered and led me to the palace. As 
 I went in they closed each door behind me, and put 
 
 125 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 a chain across it. Inside was a great court with an 
 arcade running all round. The walls were of white 
 alabaster, set here and there with blue and green tiles. 
 The pillars were of green marble, and the pavement 
 of a kind of peach-blossom marble. I had never 
 seen anything like it before. 
 
 "As I passed across the court two veiled women 
 looked down from the balcony and cursed me. The 
 guards hastened on, and the butts of the lances rang 
 upon the polished floor. They opened a gate of 
 wrought ivory, and I found myself in a watered gar- 
 den of seven terraces. It was planted with tulip-cups 
 and moonflowers, and silver-studded aloes. Like a 
 slim reed of crystal a fountain hung in the dusky air. 
 The cypress-trees were like burnt-out torches. From 
 one of them a nightingale was singing. 
 
 "At the end of the garden stood a little pavilion. 
 As we approached it two eunuchs came out to meet 
 us. Their fat bodies swayed as they walked, and 
 they glanced curiously at me with their yellow- 
 lidded eyes. One of them drew aside the captain of 
 the guard, and in a low voice whispered to him. The 
 other kept munching scented pastilles, which he took 
 with an affected gesture out of an oval box of lilac 
 enamel. 
 
 "After a few moments the captain of the guard dis- 
 missed the soldiers. They went back to the palace, 
 the eunuchs following slowly behind and plucking 
 
 126 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 the sweet mulberries from the trees as they passed. 
 Once the elder of the two turned round and smiled 
 at me with an evil smile. 
 
 "Then the captain of the guard motioned me to- 
 wards the entrance of the pavilion. I walked on 
 without trembling, and drawing the heavy curtain 
 aside I entered in. 
 
 "The young Emperor was stretched on a couch of 
 dyed lion skins, and a ger-falcon perched upon his 
 wrist. Behind him stood a brass-turbaned Nubian, 
 naked down to the waist, and with heavy earrings in 
 his split ears. On a table by the side of the couch 
 lay a mighty scimitar of steel. 
 
 "When the Emperor saw me he frowned, and said 
 to me, 'What is thy name? Knowest thou not that 
 I am Emperor of this city?' But I made him no 
 answer. 
 
 "He pointed with his finger at the scimitar, and 
 the Nubian seized it, and rushing forward struck at 
 me with great violence. The blade whizzed through 
 me, and did me no hurt. The man fell sprawling 
 on the floor, and when he rose up, his teeth chattered 
 with terror and he hid himself behind the couch. 
 
 "The Emperor leapt to his feet, and taking a lance 
 from a stand of arms he threw it at me. I caught it 
 in its flight, and brake the shaft into two pieces. He 
 shot at me with an arrow, but I held up my hands 
 and it stopped in mid-air. Then he drew a dagger 
 
 127 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 from a belt of white leather, and stabbed the Nubian 
 in the throat lest the slave should tell of his dishonor. 
 The man writhed like a trampled snake, and a red 
 foam bubbled from his lips. 
 
 "As soon as he was dead the Emperor turned to 
 me, and when he had wiped away the bright sweat 
 from his brow with a little napkin of purfled and 
 purple silk, he said to me, 'Art thou a prophet, that 
 I may not harm thee, or the son of a prophet that 
 I can do thee no hurt? I pray thee leave my city 
 to-night, for while thou art in it I am no longer its 
 lord.' 
 
 "And I answered him, 'I will go for half thy 
 treasure. Give me half of thy treasure and I will go 
 away.' 
 
 "He took me by the hand, and led me out into the 
 garden. When the captain of the guard saw me, he 
 wondered. When the eunuchs saw me, their knees 
 shook and they fell upon the ground in fear. 
 
 "There is a chamber in the palace that has eight 
 walls of red porphyry, and a brass-scaled ceiling 
 hung with lamps. The Emperor touched one of the 
 walls and it opened, and we passed down a corridor 
 that was lit with many torches. In niches upon each 
 side stood great wine-jars filled to the brim with sil- 
 ver pieces. When we reached the center of the cor- 
 ridor the Emperor spake the word that may not be 
 spoken, and a granite door swung back on a secret 
 
 128 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 spring, and he put his hands before his face lest his 
 eyes should be dazzled. 
 
 "Thou couldst not believe how marvelous a place 
 it was. There were huge tortoise-shells of pearls, 
 and hollowed moonstones of great size piled up with 
 red rubies. The gold was stored in coffers of ele- 
 phant-hide, and the gold-dust in leather bottles. 
 There were opals and sapphires, the former in cups 
 of crystal, and the latter in cups of jade. Round 
 green emeralds were ranged in order upon thin plates 
 of ivory, and in one corner were silk bags filled, some 
 with turquoise-stones, and others with beryls. The 
 ivory horns were heaped with purple amethysts, and 
 the horns of brass were chalcedonies and sards. The 
 pillars, which were of cedar, were hung with strings 
 of yellow lynx-stones. In the flat oval shields there 
 were carbuncles, both wine-colored and colored like 
 grass. And yet I have told thee but a tithe of what 
 was there. 
 
 "And when the Emperor had taken away his hands 
 from before his face he said to me: 'This is my house 
 of treasure, and half that is in it is thine, even as I 
 promised to thee. And I will give thee camels and 
 camel drivers, and they shall do thy bidding and take 
 away thy share of the treasure to whatever part of 
 the world thou desirest to go. And the thing shall be 
 done to-night, for I would not that the Sun, who is 
 
 129 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 my father, should see that there is in my city a man 
 whom I cannot slay.' 
 
 "But I answered him, 'The gold that is here is 
 thine, and the silver is thine also, and thine are the 
 precious jewels and the things of price. As for me, 
 I have no need of these. Nor shall I take aught from 
 thee but that little ring that thou wearest on the finger 
 of thy hand.' 
 
 "And the Emperor frowned. 'It is but a ring of 
 lead,' he cried, 'nor has it any value. Therefore take 
 thy half of the treasure and go from my city.' 
 
 " 'Nay,' I answered, 'but I will take nought but 
 that leaden ring, for I know what is written within 
 it, and for what purpose.' 
 
 "And the Emperor trembled, and besought me and 
 said, 'Take all the treasure and go from my city. 
 The half that is mine shall be thine also.' 
 
 "And I did a strange thing, but what I did mat- 
 ters not, for in a cave that is but a day's journey from 
 this place have I hidden the Ring of Riches. It is 
 but a day's journey from this place, and it waits for 
 thy coming. He who has this Ring is richer than 
 all the kings of the world. Come therefore and take 
 it, and the world's riches shall be thine." 
 
 But the young Fisherman laughed. "Love is bet- 
 ter than Riches," he cried, "and the little Mermaid 
 loves me." 
 
 130 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "Nay, but there is nothing better than Riches," 
 said the Soul. 
 
 "Love is better," answered the young Fisherman, 
 and he plunged into the deep, and the Soul went 
 weeping away over the marshes. 
 
 And after the third year was over, the Soul came 
 down to the shore of the sea, and called to the young 
 Fisherman, and he rose out of the deep and said, 
 "Why dost thou call to me?" 
 
 And the Soul answered, "Come nearer, that I may 
 speak with thee, for I have seen marvelous things." 
 
 So he came nearer, and crouched in the shallow 
 water, and leaned his head upon his hand and 
 listened. 
 
 And the Soul said to him, "In a city that I know 
 of there is an inn that standeth by a river. I sat 
 there with sailors who drank of two different colored 
 wines, and ate bread made of barley, and little salt 
 fish served in bay leaves with vinegar. And as we 
 sat and made merry, there entered to us an old man 
 bearing a leathern carpet and a lute that had two 
 horns of amber. And when he had laid out the car- 
 pet on the floor, he struck with a quill on the wire 
 strings of his lute, and a girl whose face was veiled 
 ran in and began to dance before us. Her face was 
 veiled with a veil of gauze, but her feet were naked. 
 Naked were her feet, and they moved over the car- 
 
 131 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 pet like little white pigeons. Never have I seen any- 
 thing so marvelous, and the city in which she dances 
 is but a day's journey from this place." 
 
 Now when the young Fisherman heard the words 
 of his Soul, he remembered that the little Mermaid 
 had no feet and could not dance. And a great de- 
 sire came over him, and he said to himself, "It is but 
 a day's journey, and I can return to my love," and 
 he laughed, and stood up in the shallow water, and 
 strode towards the shore. 
 
 And when he had reached the dry shore he laughed 
 again, and held out his arms to his Soul. And his 
 Soul gave a great cry of joy and ran to meet him, and 
 entered into him, and the young Fisherman saw 
 stretched before him upon the sand that shadow of 
 the body that is the body of the Soul. 
 
 And his Soul said to him, "Let us not tarry, but 
 get hence at once, for the Sea-gods are jealous, and 
 have monsters that do their bidding." 
 
 So they made haste, and all that night they jour- 
 neyed beneath the moon, and all the next day they 
 journeyed beneath the sun, and on the evening of 
 the day they came to a city. 
 
 And the young Fisherman said to his Soul, "Is this 
 the city in which she dances of whom thou did'st 
 speak to me?" 
 
 132 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 And his Soul answered him. "It is not this city, 
 but another. Nevertheless let us enter in." 
 
 So they entered in and passed through the streets, 
 and as they passed through the Street of the Jewelers 
 the Fisherman saw a fair silver cup, set forth in a 
 booth. And his Soul said to him, "Take that silver 
 cup and hide it." 
 
 So he took the cup and hid it in the fold of his 
 tunic, and they went hurriedly out of the city. 
 
 And after that they had gone a league from the 
 city, the young Fisherman frowned, and flung the 
 cup away, and said to the Soul, "Why did'st thou tell 
 me to take this cup and hide it, for it was an evil 
 thing to do?" 
 
 But his Soul answered him, "Be at peace, be at 
 peace." 
 
 And on the evening of the second day they came to 
 a city, and the young Fisherman said to his Soul, "Is 
 this the city in which she dances of whom thou did'st 
 speak to me?" 
 
 And his Soul answered him, "It is not this city, 
 but another. Nevertheless let us enter in." 
 
 So they entered in and passed through the street, 
 and as they passed through the Street of the Sellers 
 of Sandals, the young Fisherman saw a child stand- 
 ing by a jar of water. And his Soul said to him, 
 "Smite that child." So he smote the child till it 
 
 133 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 wept, and when he had done this they went hur- 
 riedly out of the city. 
 
 And after that they had gone a league from the city 
 the young Fisherman grew wroth, and said to his 
 Soul, "Why did'st thou tell me to smite the child, for 
 it was an evil thing to do?" 
 
 But his Soul answered him, "Be at peace, be at 
 peace." 
 
 And on the evening of the third day they came to 
 a city and the young Fisherman said to his Soul, "Is 
 this the city in which she dances of whom thou did'st 
 speak to me?" 
 
 And his Soul answered him, "It may be that it is 
 this city, therefore let us enter in." 
 
 So they entered in and passed through the streets, 
 but nowhere could the young Fisherman find the 
 river or the inn that stood by its side. And the people 
 of the city looked curiously at him, and he grew 
 afraid and said to his Soul, "Let us go hence, for she 
 who dances with white feet is not here." 
 
 But the Soul answered, "Nay, but let us tarry, for 
 the night is dark and there will be robbers on the 
 way." 
 
 So he sat him down in the market-place and rested, 
 and after a time there went by a hooded merchant 
 who had a cloak of Tartary, and bare a lantern of 
 pierced horn at the end of a jointed reed. And the 
 merchant said to him, "Why dost thou sit in the 
 
 134 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 market-place, seeing that the booths are closed and 
 the bales corded?" 
 
 And the young Fisherman answered him, "I can 
 find no inn in this city, nor have I any kinsman who 
 might give me shelter." 
 
 "Are we not all kinsmen?" said the merchant. 
 "And did not one God make us? Therefore come 
 with me, for I have a guest-chamber." 
 
 So the young Fisherman rose up and followed the 
 merchant to his house. And when he had passed 
 through a garden of pomegranates and entered into 
 the house, the merchant brought him rose-water in 
 a copper dish that he might wash his hands, and ripe 
 melons that he might quench his thirst, and set a 
 bowl of rice and a piece of roasted kid before him. 
 
 And after that he had finished, the merchant led 
 him to the guest-chamber, and bade him sleep and 
 be at rest. And the young Fisherman gave him 
 thanks, and kissed the ring that was on his hand, 
 and flung himself down on the carpets of dyed goat's- 
 hair. And when he had covered himself with a cov- 
 ering of black lamb's-wool he fell asleep. 
 
 And three hours before dawn, and while it was 
 still night, his Soul waked him, and said to him, 
 "Rise up and go to the room of the merchant, even 
 to the room in which he sleepeth, and slay him, and 
 take from him his gold, for we have need of it." 
 
 And the young Fisherman rose up and crept to- 
 
 135 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 wards the room of the merchant, and over the feet 
 of the merchant there was lying a curved sword, and 
 the tray by the side of the merchant held nine purses 
 of gold. And he reached out his hand and touched 
 the sword, and when he touched it the merchant 
 started and awoke, and leaping up seized himself the 
 sword, and cried to the young Fisherman, "Dost thou 
 return evil for good, and pay with the shedding of 
 blood for the kindness that I have shown thee?" 
 
 An his Soul said to the young Fisherman, "Strike 
 him," and he struck him so that he swooned, and he 
 seized then the nine purses of gold, and fled hastily 
 through the garden of pomegranates, and set his face 
 to the star that is the star of morning. 
 
 And when they had gone a league from the city, 
 the young Fisherman beat his breast, and said to his 
 Soul, "Why didst thou bid me slay the merchant and 
 take his gold? Surely thou art evil." 
 
 But his Soul answered him, "Be at peace, be at 
 peace." 
 
 "Nay," cried the young Fisherman, "I may not be 
 at peace, for all that thou hast made me to do I hate. 
 Thee also I hate, and I bid thee tell me wherefore 
 thou hast wrought with me in this wise." 
 
 And his Soul answered him, "When thou didst 
 send me forth into the world thou gavest me no heart, 
 so I learned to do all these things and love them." 
 
 136 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 "What sayest thou?" murmured the young Fisher- 
 man. 
 
 "Thou knowest," answered his Soul, "thou know- 
 est it well. Hast thou forgotten that thou gavest me 
 no heart? I trow not. And so trouble not thyself 
 nor me, but be at peace, for there is no pain that thou 
 shall not give away, nor any pleasure that thou shalt 
 not receive." 
 
 And when the young Fisherman heard these words 
 he trembled and said to his Soul, "Nay, but thou art 
 evil, and hast made me forget my love, and hast 
 tempted me with temptations, and hast set my feet 
 •n the ways of sin." 
 
 And his Soul answered him, "Thou hast not for- 
 gotten that when thou didst send me forth into the 
 world thou gavest me no heart. Come, let us go to 
 another city, and make merry, for we have nine 
 purses of gold." 
 
 But the young Fisherman took the nine purses of 
 gold, and flung them down, and trampled on them. 
 
 "Nay," he cried, "but I will have nought to do 
 with thee, nor will I journey with thee anywhere, 
 but even as I sent thee away before, so will I send 
 thee away now, for thou hast wrought me no good." 
 And he turned his back to the moon, and with the 
 little knife that had the handle of green viper's skin 
 he strove to cut from his feet that shadow of the body 
 which is the body of the Soul. 
 
 137 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 Yet his Soul stirred not from him, nor paid heed to 
 his command, but said to him, "The Spell that the 
 Witch told thee avails thee no more, for I may not 
 leave thee, nor mayest thou drive me forth. Once 
 in his life may a man send his Soul away, but he who 
 receiveth back his Soul must keep it with him for- 
 ever, and this is his punishment and his reward." 
 
 And the young Fisherman grew pale and clenched 
 his hands and cried, "She was a false Witch in that 
 she told me not that." 
 
 "Nay," answered his Soul, "but she was true to 
 Him she worships, and whose servant she will be 
 ever." 
 
 And when the young Fisherman knew that he 
 could not longer get rid of his Soul, and that it was 
 an evil Soul and would abide with him always, he 
 fell upon the ground weeping bitterly. 
 
 And when it was day the young Fisherman rose up 
 and said to his Soul, "I will bind my hands that I 
 may not do thy bidding, and close my lips that I may 
 not speak thy words, and I will return to the place 
 where she whom I love has her dwelling. Even to 
 the sea will I return, and to the little bay where she 
 is wont to sing, and I will call to her and tell her the 
 evil I have done and the evil thou hast wrought on 
 me." 
 
 And his soul tempted him and said, "Who is thy 
 love that thou should'st return to her? The world 
 
 138 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 has many fairer than she is. There are the dancing- 
 girls of Samaris who dance in the manner of all kinds 
 of birds and beasts. Their feet are painted with 
 henna, and in their hands they have little copper 
 bells. They laugh while they dance, and their laugh- 
 ter is as clear as the laughter of water. Come with 
 me and I will show them to thee. For what is this 
 trouble of thine about the things of sin? Is that 
 which is pleasant to eat not made for the eater? Is 
 there poison in that which is sweet to drink? Trou- 
 ble not thyself, but come with me to another city. 
 There is a little city hard by in which there is a 
 garden of tulip-trees. And there dwell in this comely 
 garden white peacocks and peacocks that have blue 
 breasts. Their tails when they spread them to the 
 sun are like disks of ivory and like gilt disks. And 
 she who feeds them dances for their pleasure, and 
 sometimes she dances on her hands and at other times 
 she dances with her feet. Her eyes are colored with 
 stibium, and her nostrils are shaped like the wings 
 of a swallow. From a hook in one of her nostrils 
 hangs a flower that is carved out of a pearl. She 
 laughs while she dances, and the silver rings that are 
 about her ankles tinkle like bells of silver. And so 
 trouble not thyself any more, but come with me to 
 this city." 
 
 But the young Fisherman answered not his Soul, 
 but closed his lips with the seal of silence and with 
 
 139 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 a tight cord bound his hands, and journeyed back to 
 the place from which he had come, even to the little 
 bay where his love had been wont to sing. And ever 
 did his Soul tempt him by the way, but he made it 
 no answer, nor would he do any of the wickedness 
 that it sought to make him to do, so great was the 
 power of the love that was within him. 
 
 And when he had reached the shore of the sea, 
 he loosed the cord from his hands, and took the seal 
 of silence from his lips and called to the little Mer- 
 maid. But she came not to his call, though he called 
 to her all day long and besought her. 
 
 And his Soul mocked him and said, "Surely thou 
 hast but little joy out of thy love. Thou art as one 
 who in time of dearth pours water into a broken ves- 
 sel. Thou givest away what thou hast, and nought is 
 given to thee in return. It were better for thee to 
 come with me for I know where the Valley of Pleas- 
 ure lies, and what things are wrought there." 
 
 But the young Fisherman answered not his Soul, 
 but in a cleft of the rock he built himself a house of 
 wattles, and abode there for the space of a year. And 
 every morning he called to the Mermaid, and every 
 noon he called to her again, and at night-time spake 
 her name. Yet never did she rise out of the sea to 
 meet him, nor in any place of the sea could he find 
 her, though he sought for her in the caves and in 
 
 140 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 the water green, in the pools of the tide and in the 
 wells that are at the bottom of the deep. 
 
 And ever did his Soul tempt him with evil, and 
 whisper of terrible things. Yet did it not prevail 
 against him, so great was the power of his love. 
 
 And after the year was over, the Soul thought 
 within himself, "I have tempted my master with evil, 
 and his love is stronger than I am. I will tempt him 
 now with good, and it may be that he will come with 
 me." 
 
 So he spake to the young Fisherman and said, "I 
 have told thee of the joy of the world, and thou hast 
 turned a deaf ear to me. Suffer me now to tell thee 
 of the world's pain, and it may be that thou wilt 
 hearken. For of a truth, pain is the Lord of this 
 world, nor is there any one who escapes from its net. 
 There be some who lack raiment, and others who 
 lack bread. There be widows who sit in purple, and 
 widows who sit in rags. To and fro over the fens 
 go the lepers, and they are cruel to each other. The 
 beggars go up and down on the highways, and their 
 wallets are empty. Through the streets of the cities 
 walks Famine, and the Plague sits at their gates. 
 Come, let us go forth and mend these things, and 
 make them not to be. Wherefore shouldst thou tarry 
 here calling to thy love, seeing she comes not to thy 
 call? And what is love, that thou shouldst set this 
 high store upon it?" 
 
 141 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 But the young Fisherman answered it nought, so 
 great was the power of his love. And every morn- 
 ing he called to the Mermaid, and every noon he 
 called to her again, and at night-time he spake her 
 name. Yet never did she rise out of the sea to meet 
 him, nor in any place of the sea could he find her, 
 though he sought for her in the rivers of the sea, and 
 in the valleys that are under the waves, in the sea that 
 the night makes purple, and in the sea that the dawn 
 leaves gray. 
 
 And after the second year was over, the Soul said 
 to the young Fisherman at night-time, and as he sat 
 in the wattled house alone, "Lo! now I have tempted 
 thee with evil, and I have tempted thee with good, 
 and thy love is stronger than I am. Wherefore will 
 I tempt thee no longer, but I pray thee to suffer me 
 to enter thy heart, that I may be one with thee even 
 as before." 
 
 "Surely thou mayest enter," said the young Fisher- 
 man, "for in the days when with no heart thou didst 
 go through the world thou must have much suffered." 
 
 "Alas!" cried his Soul, "I can find no place of en- 
 trance, so compassed about with love is this heart of 
 thine." 
 
 "Yet I would that I could help thee," said the 
 young Fisherman. 
 
 And as he spake there came a great cry of mourn- 
 ing from the sea, even the cry that men hear when 
 
 142 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 one of the Sea-folk is dead. And the young Fisher- 
 man leapt up, and left his wattled house, and ran 
 down to the shore. And the black waves came hur- 
 rying to the shore, bearing with them a burden that 
 was whiter than silver. White as the surf it was, 
 and like a flower it tossed on the waves. And the 
 surf took it from the waves, and the foam took it 
 from the surf, and the shore received it, and lying 
 at his feet the young Fisherman saw the body of the 
 little Mermaid. Dead at his feet it was lying. 
 
 Weeping as one smitten with pain he flung him- 
 self down beside it, and he kissed the cold red of the 
 mouth, and toyed with the wet amber of the hair. 
 He flung himself down beside it on the sand, weep- 
 ing as one trembling with joy, and in his brown arms 
 he held it to his breast. Cold were the lips, yet he 
 kissed them. Salt was the honey of the hair, yet he 
 tasted it with a bitter joy. He kissed the closed eye- 
 lids, and the wild spray that lay upon their cups was 
 less salt than his tears. 
 
 And to the dead thing he made confession. Into 
 the shells of its ears he poured the harsh wine of his 
 tale. He put the little hands round his neck, and with 
 his fingers he touched the thin reed of the throat. 
 Bitter, bitter was his joy, and full of strange glad- 
 ness was his pain. 
 
 The black sea came nearer and the white foam 
 moaned like a leper. With white claws of foam the 
 
 H3 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 sea grabbled at the shore. From the palace of the 
 Sea-King came the cry of mourning again, and far 
 out upon the sea the great Tritons blew hoarsely upon 
 their horns. 
 
 "Flee away," said his Soul, "for ever doth the sea 
 come nigher, and if thou tarriest it will slay thee. 
 Flee away, for I am afraid seeing that thy heart is 
 closed against me by reason of the greatness of thy 
 love. Flee away to a place of safety. Surely thou 
 wilt not send me without a heart into another world?" 
 
 But the young Fisherman listened not to his Soul, 
 but called on the little Mermaid and said, "Love is 
 better than wisdom, and more precious than riches, 
 and fairer than the feet of the daughters of men. 
 The fires cannot destroy it, nor can the waters quench 
 it. I called on thee at dawn, and thou didst not come 
 to my call. The noon heard thy name, yet hadst thou 
 no heed of me. For evilly had I left thee, and to my 
 own hurt had I wandered away. Yet ever did thy 
 love abide with me, and ever was it strong, nor did 
 aught prevail against it, though I have looked upon 
 evil and looked upon good. And now that thou art 
 dead, surely I will die with thee also." 
 
 And his Soul besought him to depart, but he would 
 not, so great was his love. And the sea came nearer, 
 and sought to cover him with its waves, and when 
 he knew that the end was at hand he kissed with mad 
 lips the cold lips of the Mermaid, and the heart that 
 
 144 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 was within him brake. And as through the fullness 
 of his love his heart did break, the Soul found an 
 entrance and entered in, and was one with him even 
 as before. And the sea covered the young Fisherman 
 with its waves. 
 
 And in the morning the Priest went forth to bless 
 the sea, for it had been troubled. And with him went 
 the monks and the musicians, and the candle-bearers, 
 and the swingers of censers, and a great company. 
 
 And when the Priest reached the shore he saw the 
 young Fisherman lying drowned in the surf, and 
 clasped in his arms was the body of the little Mer- 
 maid. And he drew back frowning, and having 
 made the sign of the cross, he cried aloud and said, 
 "I will not bless the sea nor anything that is in it. 
 Accursed be the Sea-folk, and accursed be all they 
 who traffic with them. And as for him who for 
 love's sake forsook God and so lieth here with his 
 leman slain by God's judgment, take up his body and 
 the body of his leman, and bury them in the corner 
 of the Field of the Fullers, and set no mark above 
 them, nor sign of any kind, that none may know the 
 place of their resting. For accursed were they in 
 their lives, and accursed shall they be in their deaths 
 also." 
 
 And the people did as he commanded them, and in 
 the corner of the Field of the Fullers, where no sweet 
 
 H5 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 herbs grew, they dug a deep pit, and laid the dead 
 things within it. 
 
 And when the third year was over, and on a day 
 that was a holy day, the Priest went up to the chapel, 
 that he might show to the people the wounds of the 
 Lord, and speak to them about the wrath of God. 
 
 And when he had robed himself with his robes, 
 and entered in and bowed himself before the altar, 
 he saw that the altar was covered with strange flow- 
 ers that never had he seen before. Strange were they 
 to look at, and of curious beauty, and their beauty 
 troubled him, and their odor was sweet in his nos- 
 trils. And he felt glad, and understood not why he 
 was glad. 
 
 And after that he had opened the tabernacle and 
 incensed the monstrance that was in it, and shown the 
 fair wafer to the people, and hid it again behind the 
 veil of veils, he began to speak to them of the wrath 
 of God. But the beauty of the white flowers troubled 
 him, and their odor was sweet in his nostrils, and 
 there came another word into his lips, and he spake 
 not of the wrath of God, but of the God whose name 
 is Love. And why so he spake, he knew not. 
 
 And when he had finished his word the people 
 wept, and the Priest went back to the sacristy, and his 
 eyes were full of tears. And the deacons came in and 
 began to unrobe him, and took from him the alb and 
 
 146 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 the girdle, the maniple and the stole. And he stood 
 as one in a dream. 
 
 And after that they had unrobed him, he looked 
 at them and said, "What are the flowers that stand on 
 the altar, and whence do they come?" 
 
 And they answered him, "What flowers they are 
 we cannot tell, but they come from the corner of the 
 Fullers' Field." And the Priest trembled, and re- 
 turned to his own house and prayed. 
 
 And in the morning, while it was still dawn, he 
 went forth with the monks and the musicians, and 
 the candle-bearers and the swingers of censers, and 
 a great company, and came to the shore of the sea, 
 and blessed the sea, and all the wild things that are 
 in it. The Fauns also he blessed, and the little things 
 that dance in the woodland, and the bright-eyed 
 things that peer through the leaves. All the things 
 in God's world he blessed, and the people were filled 
 with joy and wonder. Yet never again in the corner 
 of the Fullers' Field grew flowers of any kind, but 
 the field remained barren even as before. Nor came 
 the Sea-folk into the bay as they had been wont to 
 do, for they went to another part of the sea. 
 
 147 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 
 
 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 natu- 
 rally a matter of great importance to the whole coun- 
 try 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, visit- 
 ing 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 pro- 
 fusion from the moldering trellis and along the dim 
 arcades, seemed to have caught a richer color from 
 the wonderful sunlight, and the magnolia trees 
 opened their great globe-like blossoms of folded 
 
 151 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 ivory, and rilled the air with a sweet heavy perfume. 
 
 The little Princess herself walked up and down 
 the terrace with her companions, and played at hide 
 and seek round the stone vases and the old moss- 
 grown statues. On ordinary days she was only 
 allowed to play with children of her own rank, so she 
 had always to play alone, but her birthday was an 
 exception, and the King had given orders that she 
 was to invite any of her young friends whom she liked 
 to come and amuse themselves with her. There was 
 a stately grace about these slim Spanish children as 
 they glided about, the boys with their large plumed 
 hats and short fluttering cloaks, the girls holding up 
 the trains of their long brocaded gowns, and shield- 
 ing the sun from their eyes with huge fans of black 
 and silver. But the Infanta was the most graceful of 
 all, and the most tastefully attired, after the some- 
 what cumbrous fashion of the day. Her robe was of 
 gray satin, the skirt and the wide puffed sleeves 
 heavily embroidered with silver, and the stiff corset 
 studded with rows of fine pearls. Two tiny slippers 
 with big pink rosettes peeped out beneath her dress 
 as she walked. Pink and pearl was her great gauze 
 fan, and in her hair, which like an aureole of faded 
 gold stood out stiffly round her pale little face, she 
 had a beautiful white rose. 
 
 From the window in a palace the sad melancholy 
 King watched them. Behind him stood his brother, 
 
 152 
 
THE BIRTHDA V OF THE INFANTA 
 
 But the Infanta was the most graceful of all and the most 
 gracefully attired after the somewhat cumbrous fashion of 
 
 the day. 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 Don Pedro of Aragon, whom he hated, and his con- 
 fessor, the Grand Inquisitor of Granada, sat by his 
 side. Sadder even than usual was the King, for as 
 he looked at the Infanta bowing with childish gravity 
 to the assembling courtiers, or laughing behind her 
 fan at the grim Duchess of Albuquerque who always 
 accompanied her, he thought of the young Queen, 
 her mother, who but a short time before — so it 
 seemed to him — had come from the gay country of 
 France, and had withered away in the somber splen- 
 dor of the Spanish court, dying just six months after 
 the birth of her child, and before she had seen the 
 almonds blossom twice in the orchard or plucked 
 the second year's fruit from the old gnarled fig-tree 
 that stood in the center of the now grass-grown court- 
 yard. So great had been his love for her that he had 
 not suffered even the grave to hide her from him. 
 She had been embalmed by a Moorish physician, 
 who in return for this service had been granted his 
 life, which for heresy and suspicion of magical prac- 
 tices had been already forfeited, men said, to the 
 Holy Office, and her body was still lying on its tapes- 
 tried bier in the black marble chapel of the Palace, 
 just as the monks had borne her in on that windy 
 March day nearly twelve years before. Once every 
 month the King, wrapped in a dark cloak and with 
 a muffled lantern in his hand, went in and knelt by 
 her side, calling ou^ "Mi reina! Mi reina!" and 
 
 153 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 sometimes breaking through the formal etiquette that 
 in Spain governs every separate action of life, and 
 sets limits even to the sorrow of a King, he would 
 clutch at the pale jeweled hands in a wild agony of 
 grief, and try to wake by his mad kisses the cold 
 painted face. 
 
 To-day he seemed to see her again, as he had seen 
 her first at the Castle of Fontainebleau, when he was 
 but fifteen years of age, and she still younger. They 
 had been formally betrothed on that occasion by the 
 Papal Nuncio in the presence of the French King 
 and all the Court, and he had returned to the Escu- 
 rial bearing with him a little ringlet of yellow hair, 
 and the memory of two childish lips bending down 
 to kiss his hand as he stepped into his carriage. Later 
 on had followed the marriage, hastily performed at 
 Burgos, a small town on the frontier between the 
 two countries, and the grand public entry into 
 Madrid with the customary celebration of high mass 
 at the Church of La Atoacha, and a more than usu- 
 ally solemn auto-da-fe, in which nearly three hun- 
 dred heretics, amongst whom were many English- 
 men, had been delivered over to the secular arm to 
 be burned. 
 
 Certainly he had loved her madly, and to the ruin, 
 many thought, of his country, then at war with Eng- 
 land for the possession of the empire of the New 
 World. He had hardly ever permitted her to be out 
 
 154 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 of his sight; for her, he had forgotten, or seemed to 
 have forgotten, all grave affairs of state; and, with 
 that terrible blindness that passion brings upon its 
 servants, he had failed to notice that the elaborate 
 ceremonies by which he sought to please her did but 
 aggravate the strange malady from which she suf- 
 fered. When she died he was, for a time, like one be- 
 reft of reason. Indeed, there is no doubt but that he 
 would have formally abdicated and retired to the great 
 Trappist monastery at Granada, of which he was 
 already titular Prior; had he not been afraid to leave 
 the little Infanta at the mercy of his brother, whose 
 cruelty, even in Spain, was notorious, and who was 
 suspected by many of having caused the Queen's 
 death by means of a pair of poisoned gloves that he 
 had presented to her on the occasion of her visiting 
 his castle in Aragon. Even after the expiration of 
 the three years of public mourning that he had or- 
 dained throughout his whole dominion by royal edict, 
 he would never suffer his ministers to speak about 
 any new alliance, and when the Emperor himself 
 sent to him, and offered him the hand of the lovely 
 Archduchess of Bohemia, his niece, in marriage, he 
 bade the ambassador tell their master that the King 
 of Spain was already wedded to Sorrow, and that 
 though she was but a barren bride he loved her bet- 
 ter than Beauty; an answer that cost his crown the 
 rich provinces of the Netherlands, which soon after, 
 
 155 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 at the Emperor's instigation, revolted against him 
 under the leadership of some fanatics of the Re- 
 formed Church. 
 
 His whole married life, with its fierce fiery- 
 colored joys and the terrible agony of its sudden end- 
 ing, seemed to come back to him to-day as he watched 
 the Infanta playing on the terrace. She had all the 
 Queen's pretty petulance of manner, the same wilful 
 way of tossing her head, the same proud curved beau- 
 tiful mouth, the same wonderful smile — vrai sourire 
 de France indeed — as she glanced up now and then 
 at the window, or stretched out her little hand for 
 the stately Spanish gentlemen to kiss. But the shrill 
 laughter of the children grated on his ears, and the 
 bright pitiless sunlight mocked his sorrow, and a dull 
 odor of strange spices, spices such as embalmers use, 
 seemed to taint — or was it fancy? — the clear morn- 
 ing air. He buried his face in his hands, and when 
 the Infanta looked up again the curtains had been 
 drawn, and the King had retired. 
 
 She made a little moue of disappointment, and 
 shrugged her shoulders. Surely he might have stayed 
 with her on her birthday. What did the stupid State- 
 affairs matter? Or had he gone to that gloomy 
 chapel, where the candles were always burning, and 
 where she was never allowed to enter? How silly 
 of him, when the sun was shining so brightly, and 
 everybody was so happy! Besides, he would miss 
 
 i S 6 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 the sham bull-fight for which the trumpet was al- 
 ready sounding, to say nothing of the puppet show 
 and the other wonderful things. Her uncle and the 
 Grand Inquisitor were much more sensible. They 
 had come out on the terrace, and paid her nice com- 
 pliments. So she tossed her pretty head, and taking 
 Don Pedro by the hand, she walked slowly down 
 the steps towards a long pavilion of purple silk that 
 had been erected at the end of the garden, the other 
 children following in strict order of precedence, 
 those who had the longest names going first. 
 
 A procession of noble boys, fantastically dressed as 
 toreadors, came out to meet her, and the young Count 
 of Tierra Nueva, a wonderfully handsome lad of 
 about fourteen years of age, uncovering his head with 
 all the grace of a born hidalgo and grandee of Spain 
 led her solemnly in to a gilt and ivory chair that was 
 placed on a raised dais above the arena. The chil- 
 dren grouped themselves all round, fluttering their 
 big fans and whispering to each other, and Don 
 Pedro and the Grand Inquisitor stood laughing at 
 the entrance. Even the Duchess — the Camerera- 
 Mayor as she was called — a thin, hard-featured 
 woman with a yellow ruff, did not look quite so bad- 
 tempered as usual, and something like a chill smile 
 flitted across her wrinkled face and twitched her thin 
 bloodless lips. 
 
 It certainly was a marvelous bull-fight, and much 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 nicer, the Infanta thought, than the real bull-fight 
 that she had been brought to see at Seville, on the 
 occasion of the visit of the Duke of Parma to her 
 father. Some of the boys pranced about on richly- 
 caparisoned hobby-horses brandishing long javelins 
 with gay streamers of bright ribands attached to 
 them; others went on foot waving their scarlet cloaks 
 before the bull, and vaulting lightly over the barrier 
 when he charged them; and as for the bull himself, 
 he was just like a live bull, though he was only made 
 of wicker-work and stretched hide, and sometimes 
 insisted on running round the arena on his hind legs, 
 which no live bull ever dreams of doing. He made 
 a splendid fight of it too, and the children got so 
 excited that they stood up upon the benches, and 
 waved their lace handkerchiefs and cried out: Bravo 
 toro! Bravo torof just as sensibly as if they had been 
 grown-up people. At last, however, after a pro- 
 longed combat, during which several of the hobby- 
 horses were gored through and through, and their 
 riders dismounted, the young Count of Tierra Nueva 
 brought the bull to his knees, and having obtained 
 permission from the Infanta to give the coup de 
 grace, he plunged his wooden sword into the neck of 
 the animal with such violence that the head came 
 right off, and disclosed the laughing face of little 
 Monsieur de Lorraine, the son of the French Am- 
 bassador at Madrid. 
 
 I S 8 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 The arena was then cleared amidst much applause, 
 and the dead hobby-horses dragged solemnly away 
 by two Moorish pages in yellow and black liveries, 
 and after a short interlude, during which a French 
 posture-master performed upon the tight-rope, some 
 Italian puppets appeared in the semi-classical trag- 
 edy of Sophonisba on the stage of a small theater that 
 had been built up for the purpose. They acted so 
 well, and their gestures were so extremely natural, 
 that at the close of the play the eyes of the Infanta 
 were quite dim with tears. Indeed some of the chil- 
 dren really cried, and had to be comforted with 
 sweetmeats, and the Grand Inquisitor himself was so 
 affected that he could not help saying to Don Pedro 
 that it seemed to him intolerable that things made 
 simply out of wood and colored wax, and worked 
 mechanically by wires, should be so unhappy and 
 meet such terrible misfortunes. 
 
 An African juggler followed, who brought in a 
 large flat basket covered with a red cloth, and hav- 
 ing placed it in the center of the arena, he took from 
 his turban a curious reed pipe, and blew through it. 
 In a few moments the cloth began to move, and as 
 the pipe grew shriller and shriller two green and 
 gold snakes put out their strange wedge-shaped heads 
 and rose slowly up, swaying to and fro with the music 
 as a plant sways in the water. The children, how- 
 ever, were rather frightened at their spotted hoods 
 
 159 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 and quick darting tongues, and were much more 
 pleased when the juggler made a tiny orange-tree 
 grow out of the sand and bear pretty white blossoms 
 and clusters of real fruit; and when he took the fan 
 of the little daughter of the Marquess de Las-Torres, 
 and changed it into a blue bird that flew all round 
 the pavilion and sang, their delight and amazement 
 knew no bounds. The solemn minuet, too, performed 
 by the dancing boys from the church of Nuestra 
 Senora Del Pilar, was charming. The Infanta had 
 never before seen this wonderful ceremony which 
 takes place every year at May-time in front of the 
 high altar of the Virgin, and in her honor; and in- 
 deed none of the royal family of Spain had entered 
 the great cathedral of Saragossa since a mad priest, 
 supposed by many to have been in the pay of Eliza- 
 beth of England, had tried to administer a poisoned 
 wafer to the Prince of the Asturias. So she had 
 known only by hearsay of "Our Lady's Dance," as it 
 was called, and it certainly was a beautiful sight. 
 The boys wore old-fashioned court dresses of white 
 velvet, and their curious three-cornered hats were 
 fringed with silver and surmounted with huge plumes 
 of ostrich feathers, the dazzling whiteness of their 
 costumes, as they moved about in the sunlight, be- 
 ing still more accentuated by their swarthy faces and 
 long black hair. Everybody was fascinated by the 
 grave dignity with which they moved through the 
 
 1 60 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 intricate figures of the dance, and by the elaborate 
 grace of their slow gestures, and stately bows, and 
 when they had finished their performance and doffed 
 their plumed great hats to the Infanta, she acknowl- 
 edged their reverence with much courtesy, and made 
 a vow that she would send a large wax candle to the 
 shrine of Our Lady of Pilar in return for the pleas- 
 ure that she had given her. 
 
 A troop of handsome Egyptians — as the gypsies 
 were termed in those days — then advanced into the 
 arena, and sitting down cross-legs, in a circle, began 
 to play softly upon their zithers, moving their bodies 
 to the tune, and humming almost below their breath 
 a low dreamy air. When they caught sight of Don 
 Pedro they scowled at him, and some of them looked 
 terrified, for only a few weeks before he had had two 
 of their tribe hanged for sorcery in the market-place 
 at Seville, but the pretty Infanta charmed them as 
 she leaned back peeping over her fan with her great 
 blue eyes, and they felt sure that one so lovely as she 
 was could never be cruel to anybody. So they played 
 on very gently and just touching the cords of the 
 zithers with their long pointed nails, and their heads 
 began to nod as though they were falling asleep. 
 Suddenly with a cry so shrill that all the children 
 were startled and Don Pedro's hand clutched at the 
 agate pommel of his dagger, they leapt to their feet 
 and whirled madly round the inclosure beating their 
 
 161 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 tambourines, and chanting some wild love-song in 
 their strange guttural language. Then at another 
 signal they all flung themselves again to the ground 
 and lay there quite still, the dull strumming of the 
 zithers being the only sound that broke the silence. 
 After they had done this several times, they disap- 
 peared for a moment and came back leading a shaggy 
 bear by a chain, and carrying on their shoulders some 
 little Barbary apes. The bear stood on his head with 
 the utmost gravity, and the wizened apes played all 
 kinds of amusing tricks with two gypsy boys who 
 seemed to be their masters, and fought with tiny 
 swords, and fired off guns, and went through a regu- 
 lar soldier's drill like the King's own body-guard. 
 In fact the gypsies were a great success. 
 
 But the funniest part of the whole morning's enter- 
 tainment was undoubtedly the dancing of the little 
 Dwarf. When he stumbled into the arena, waddling 
 on his crooked legs and wagging his huge misshapen 
 head from side to side, the children went off into a 
 loud shout of delight, and the Infanta herself laughed 
 so much that the Camerera was obliged to remind 
 her that although there were many precedents in 
 Spain for a King's daughter weeping before her 
 equals, there was none for a Princess of the blood 
 royal making so merry before those who were her 
 inferiors in birth. The Dwarf, however, was really 
 quite irresistible, and even at the Spanish Court, 
 
 162 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 always noted for its cultivated passion for the horri- 
 ble, so fantastic a little monster had never been seen. 
 It was his first appearance, too. He had been dis- 
 covered only the day before, running wild through 
 the forest, by two of the nobles who happened to have 
 been hunting in a remote part of the great cork- 
 wood that surrounded the town, and had been car- 
 ried off by them to the Palace, as a surprise for the 
 Infanta, his father, who was a poor charcoal-burner, 
 being but too well pleased to get rid of so ugly and 
 useless a child. Perhaps the most amusing thing 
 about him was his complete unconsciousness of his 
 own grotesque appearance. Indeed he seemed quite 
 happy and full of the highest spirits. When the 
 children laughed, he laughed as freely and as joy- 
 ously as any of them, and at the close of each dance 
 he made them each the funniest of bows, smiling and 
 nodding at them, just as if he was really one of them, 
 and not a little misshapen thing that Nature, in some 
 humorous mood, had fashioned for others to mock 
 at. As for the Infanta, she absolutely fascinated 
 him. He could not keep his eyes off her, and seemed 
 to dance for her alone, and when at the close of the 
 performance, remembering how she had seen the 
 great ladies of the Court throw bouquets to Caffarelli 
 the famous Italian treble, whom the Pope had sent 
 from his own chapel to Madrid that he might cure 
 the King's melancholy by the sweetness of his voice, 
 
 163 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 she took out of her hair the beautiful white rose, and 
 partly for the jest and partly to tease the Camerera, 
 threw it to him across the arena with her sweetest 
 smile, he took the whole matter quite seriously, and 
 pressing the flower to his rough coarse lips he put his 
 hand upon his heart, and sank on one knee before 
 her, grinning from ear to ear, and with his little 
 bright eyes sparkling with pleasure. 
 
 This so upset the gravity of the Infanta that she 
 kept on laughing long after the little Dwarf had run 
 out of the arena, and expressed a desire to her uncle 
 that the dance should be immediately repeated. The 
 Camerera, however, on the plea that the sun was too 
 hot, decided that it would be better that her high- 
 ness should return without delay to the Palace, where 
 a wonderful feast had been already prepared for her, 
 including a real birthday cake with her own initials 
 worked all over it in painted sugar and a lovely silver 
 flag waving from the top. The Infanta accordingly 
 rose up with much dignity, and having given orders 
 that the little Dwarf was to dance again for her after 
 the hour of siesta, and conveyed her thanks to the 
 young Count of Tierra Nueva for his charming re- 
 ception, she went back to her apartments, the chil- 
 dren following in the same order in which they had 
 entered. 
 
 Now when the little Dwarf heard that he was to 
 dance a second time before the Infanta, and by her 
 
 164 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 own express command, he was so proud that he ran 
 out into the garden, kissing the white rose in an 
 absurd ecstasy of pleasure, and making the most un- 
 couth and clumsy gestures of delight. 
 
 The flowers were quite indignant at his daring to 
 intrude into their beautiful home, and when they saw 
 him capering up and down the walks, and waving his 
 arms above his head in such a ridiculous manner, 
 they could not restrain their feelings any longer. 
 
 "He is really far too ugly to be allowed to play in 
 any place where we are," cried the Tulips. 
 
 "He should drink poppy-juice, and go to sleep for 
 a thousand years," said the great scarlet Lilies, and 
 they grew quite hot and angry. 
 
 "He is a perfect horror!" screamed the Cactus. 
 "Why, he is twisted and stumpy, and his head is 
 completely out of proportion with his legs. Really 
 he makes me feel prickly all over, and if he comes 
 near me I will sting him with my thorns." 
 
 "And he has actually got one of my best blooms," 
 exclaimed the White Rose-Tree. "I gave it to the 
 Infanta this morning myself, as a birthday present, 
 and he has stolen it from her." And she called out: 
 "Thief, thief, thief!" at the top of her voice. 
 
 Even the red Geraniums, who did not usually give 
 themselves airs, and were known to have a great 
 many poor relations, themselves, curled up in disgust 
 when they saw him, and when the Violets meekly 
 
 165 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 remarked that though he was certainly extremely 
 plain, still he could not help it, they retorted with 
 a good deal of justice that that was his chief defect, 
 and that there was no reason why one should admire 
 a person because he was incurable; and, indeed, some 
 of the Violets themselves felt that the ugliness of the 
 little Dwarf was almost ostentatious, and that he 
 would have shown much better taste if he had looked 
 sad, or at least pensive, instead of jumping about 
 merrily, and throwing himself into such grotesque 
 and silly attitudes. 
 
 As for the old Sun-dial, who was an extremely re- 
 markable individual, and had once told the time of 
 day to no less a person than the Emperor Charles V 
 himself, he was so taken aback by the little Dwarf's 
 appearance, that he almost forgot to mark two whole 
 minutes with his long shadowy finger, and could not 
 help saying to the great milk-white Peacock, who 
 was sunning herself on the balustrade, that every one 
 knew that the children of Kings were Kings, and 
 that the children of charcoal-burners were charcoal- 
 burners, and that it was absurd to pretend that it 
 wasn't so; a statement with which the Peacock en- 
 tirely agreed, and indeed screamed out, "Certainly, 
 certainly," in such a loud, harsh voice, that the gold- 
 fish who lived in the basin of the cool splashing foun- 
 tain put their heads out of the water, and asked 
 the huge stone Tritons what on earth was the matter. 
 
 1 66 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 But somehow the Birds liked him. They had seen 
 him often in the forest, dancing about like an elf after 
 the eddying leaves, or crouched up in the hollow of 
 some old oak-tree, sharing his nuts with the squirrels. 
 They did not mind his being ugly, a bit. Why, even 
 the nightingale herself, who sang so sweetly in the 
 orange groves at night that sometimes the Moon 
 leaned down to listen, was not much to look at after 
 all; and, besides, he had been kind to them, and dur- 
 ing that terrible winter when there were no berries 
 on the trees, and the ground was hard as iron, and 
 the wolves had come down to the very gates of the 
 city to look for food, he had never once forgotten 
 them, but had always given them crumbs out of his 
 little hunch of black bread, and divided with them 
 whatever poor breakfast he had. 
 
 So they flew round and round him, just touching 
 his cheek with their wings as they passed, and chat- 
 tered to each other, and the little Dwarf was so 
 pleased that he could not help showing them the 
 beautiful white rose, and telling them that the In- 
 fanta herself had given it to him because she loved 
 him. 
 
 They did not understand a single word of what he 
 was saying, but that made no matter, for they put 
 their heads on one side, and looked wise, which is 
 quite as good as understanding a thing, and very 
 much easier. 
 
 167 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 The Lizards also took an immense fancy to him, 
 and when he grew tired of running about and flung 
 himself down on the grass to rest, they played and 
 romped all over him, and tried to amuse him in the 
 best way they could. "Every one cannot be as beau- 
 tiful as a lizard," they cried ; "that would be too much 
 to expect. And, though it sounds absurd to say so, 
 he is really not so ugly after all, provided, of course, 
 that one shuts one's eyes, and does not look at him." 
 The Lizards were extremely philosophical by nature, 
 and often sat thinking for hours and hours together, 
 when there was nothing else to do, or when the 
 weather was too rainy for them to go out. 
 
 The Flowers, however, were excessively annoyed 
 at their behavior, and at the behavior of the birds. 
 "It only shows," they said, "what a vulgarizing effect 
 this incessant rushing and flying about has. Well- 
 bred people always stay exactly in the same place, as 
 we do. No one ever saw us hopping up and down 
 the walks, or galloping madly through the grass after 
 dragon-flies. When we do want change of air, we 
 send for the gardener, and he carries us to another 
 bed. This is dignified, and as it should be. But 
 birds and lizards have no sense of repose, and indeed 
 birds have not even a permanent address. They are 
 mere vagrants like the gypsies, and should be treated 
 in exactly the same manner." So they put their noses 
 in the air, and looked haughty, and were quite de- 
 
 168 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 lighted when after some time they saw the little 
 Dwarf scramble up from the grass, and make his way 
 across the terrace to the palace. 
 
 "He should certainly be kept indoors for the rest 
 of his natural life," they said. "Look at his hunched 
 back, and his crooked legs," and they began to titter. 
 
 But the little Dwarf knew nothing of all this. He 
 liked the birds and the lizards immensely, and 
 thought that the flowers were the most marvelous 
 thing in the whole world, except of course the In- 
 fanta, but then she had given him the beautiful white 
 rose, and she loved him, and that made a great differ- 
 ence. How he wished that he had gone back with 
 her! She would have put him on her right hand, 
 and smiled at him, and he would have never left her 
 side, but would have made her his playmate, and 
 taught her all kinds of delightful tricks. For though 
 he had never been in a palace before, he knew a great 
 many wonderful things. He could make little cages 
 out of rushes for the grasshoppers to sing in, and 
 fashion the long-jointed bamboo into the pipe that 
 Pan loves to hear. He knew the cry of every bird, 
 and could call the starlings from the tree-top, or 
 the heron from the mere. He knew the trail of every 
 animal, and could track the hare by its delicate foot- 
 prints, and the boar by the trampled leaves. All the 
 wind-dances he knew, the mad dance in red raiment 
 with the autumn, the light dance in blue sandals over 
 
 169 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 the corn, the dance with white snow-wreaths in win- 
 ter, and the blossom-dance through the orchards in 
 spring. He knew where the wood-pigeons built their 
 nests, and once when a fowler had snared the parent 
 birds, he had brought up the young ones himself, 
 and had built a little dovecot for them in the cleft of 
 a pollard elm. They were quite tame, and used to 
 feed out of his hands every morning. She would 
 like them, and the rabbits that scurried about in the 
 long fern, and the jays with their steely feathers and 
 black bills, and the hedgehogs that could curl them- 
 selves up into prickly balls, and the great wise tor- 
 toises that crawled slowly about, shaking their heads 
 and nibbling at the young leaves. Yes, she must cer- 
 tainly come to the forest and play with him. He 
 would give her his own little bed, and would keep 
 watch outside the window till dawn, to see that the 
 wild horned cattle did not harm her, nor the gaunt 
 wolves creep too near the hut. And at dawn he 
 would tap at the shutters and wake her, and they 
 would go out and dance together all the day long. 
 It was really not a bit lonely in the forest. Some- 
 times a Bishop rode through on his white mule, read- 
 ing out of a painted book. Sometimes, in their green 
 velvet caps, and their jerkins of tanned deerskin, the 
 falconers passed by, with hooded hawks on their 
 wrists. At vintage time came the grape-treaders, 
 with purple hands and feet, wreathed with glossy 
 
 170 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 ivy and carrying dripping skins of wine; and the 
 charcoal-burners sat round their huge braziers at 
 night, watching the dry logs charring slowly in the 
 fire, and roasting chestnuts in the ashes, and the rob- 
 bers came out of their caves and made merry with 
 them. Once, too, he had seen a beautiful procession 
 winding up the long dusty road to Toledo. The 
 monks went in front singing sweetly, and carrying 
 bright banners and crosses of gold, and then, in silver 
 armor, with matchlocks and pikes, came the soldiers, 
 and in their midst walked three barefooted men, in 
 strange yellow dresses painted all over with wonder- 
 ful figures, and carrying lighted candles in their 
 hands. Certainly there was a great deal to look at in 
 the forest, and when she was tired he would find a 
 soft bank of moss for her, or carry her in his arms, 
 for he was very strong, though he knew that he was 
 not tall. He would make her a necklace of red 
 bryony berries, that would be quite as pretty as the 
 white berries that she wore on her dress, and when 
 she was tired of them, she could throw them away, 
 and he would find her others. He would bring her 
 acorn-cups and dew-drenched anemones, and tiny 
 glow-worms to be stars in the pale gold of her hair. 
 
 But where was she? He asked the white rose, and 
 it made him no answer. The whole palace seemed 
 asleep, and even where the shutters had not been 
 closed, heavy curtains had been drawn across the win- 
 
 171 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 dows to keep out the glare. He wandered all round 
 looking for some place through which he might gain 
 an entrance, and at last he caught sight of a little 
 private door that was lying open. He slipped 
 through, and found himself in a splendid hall, far 
 more splendid, he feared, than the forest, there was 
 so much more gilding everywhere, and even the floor 
 was made of great colored stones, fitted together into 
 a sort of geometrical pattern. But the little Infanta 
 was not there, only some wonderful white statues that 
 looked down on him from their jasper pedestals, 
 with sad blank eyes and strangely smiling lips. 
 
 At the end of the hall a richly embroidered cur- 
 tain of black velvet powdered with suns and stars, 
 the King's favorite devices, and broidered on the 
 color he loved best. Perhaps she was hiding behind 
 that? He would try at any rate. 
 
 So he stole quietly across, and drew it aside. No; 
 there was only another room, though a prettier room, 
 he thought, than the one he had just left. The walls 
 were hung with a many-figured green arras of needle- 
 wrought tapestry representing a hunt, the work of 
 some Flemish artists who had spent more than seven 
 years in its composition. It had once been the cham- 
 ber of Jean le Fou, as he was called, that mad King 
 who was so enamored of the chase, that he often tried 
 in his delirium to mount the huge rearing horses, 
 and to drag down the stag on which the great 
 
 172 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 hounds were leaping, sounding his hunting horn, and 
 stabbing with his dagger at the pale flying deer. It 
 was now used as the council-room, and on the center- 
 table were lying red port-folios of the minister 
 stamped with the gold tulips of Spain, and with the 
 arms and emblems of the house of Hapsburg. 
 
 The little Dwarf looked in wonder all round him, 
 and was half afraid to go on. The strange silent 
 horsemen that galloped so swiftly through the long 
 glades without making any noise, seemed to him like 
 those terrible phantoms of whom he had heard char- 
 coal-burners speaking — the Comprachos, who hunt 
 only at night, and if they meet a man, turn him into 
 a hind, and chase him. But he thought of the pretty 
 Infanta, and took courage. He wanted to find her 
 alone, and to tell her that he too loved her. Per- 
 haps she was in the room beyond. 
 
 He ran across the soft Moorish carpets, and opened 
 the door. No! She was not here either. The room 
 was quite empty. 
 
 It was a throne-room, used for the reception of 
 foreign ambassadors, when the King, which of late 
 had not been often, consented to give them a personal 
 audience; the same room in which, many years be- 
 fore, envoys had appeared from England to make 
 arrangements for the marriage of their Queen, then 
 one of the Catholic sovereigns of Europe, with the 
 Emperor's eldest son. The hangings were of gilt 
 
 173 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 Cordovan leather, and a heavy gilt chandelier with 
 branches for three hundred wax lights hung down 
 from the black and white ceiling. Underneath a 
 great canopy of gold cloth, on which the lions and 
 towers of Castile were broidered in seed pearls, stood 
 the throne itself, covered with a rich pall of black 
 velvet studded with silver tulips and elaborately 
 fringed with silver and pearls. On the second step 
 of the throne was placed the kneeling-stool of the 
 Infanta, with its cushion of cloth of silver tissue, 
 and below that again, and beyond the limit of the 
 canopy, stood the chair for the Papal Nuncio, who 
 alone had the right to be seated in the King's pres- 
 ence on the occasion of any public ceremonial, and 
 whose Cardinal hat, with its tangled scarlet tassels, 
 lay on a purple tabouret in front. On the wall, fac- 
 ing the throne, hung a life-sized portrait of Charles V 
 in hunting dress, with a great mastiff by his side, and 
 a picture of Philip II receiving the homage of the 
 Netherlands occupied the center of the other wall. 
 Between the windows stood a black ebony cabinet, 
 inlaid with plates of ivory, on which the figures from 
 Holbein's Dance of Death had been graved — by the 
 hand, some said, of that famous master himself. 
 
 But the little Dwarf cared nothing for all this 
 magnificence. He would not have given his rose 
 for all the pearls on the canopy, nor one white petal 
 of his rose for the throne itself. What he wanted 
 
 174 
 
THE BIRTHDAY OF THE INFANTA 
 
 It was a monster, the most grotesque monster he had ever beheld. 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 was to see the Infanta before she went down to the 
 pavilion, and to ask her to come away with him when 
 he had finished his dance. Here, in the Palace, the 
 air was close and heavy, but in the forest the wind 
 blew free, and the sunlight with wandering hands of 
 gold moved the tremulous leaves aside. There were 
 flowers too, in the forest, not so splendid, perhaps, 
 as the flowers in the gardens, but more sweetly 
 scented for all that; hyacinths in early spring that 
 flooded with waving purple the cool glens, and grassy 
 knolls; yellow primroses that nestled in little clumps 
 round the gnarled roots of the oak-trees; bright 
 celandine, and blue speedwell, and irises lilac and 
 gold. There were gray catkins on the hazels, and 
 the fox-gloves drooped with the weight of their dap- 
 pled bee-haunted cells. The chestnut had its spires 
 of white stars, and the hawthorn its pallid moons of 
 beauty. Yes : surely she would come if he could only 
 find her! She would come with him to the fair for- 
 est, and all day long he would dance for her delight. 
 A smile lit up his eyes at the thought, and he passed 
 into the next room. 
 
 Of all the rooms this was the brightest and the most 
 beautiful. The walls were covered with a pink- 
 flowered Lucca damask, patterned with birds and 
 dotted with dainty blossoms of silver; the furniture 
 was of massive silver, festooned with florid wreaths 
 and swinging Cupids; in front of the two large fire- 
 
 175 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 places stood great screens broidered with parrots 
 and peacocks, and the floor, which was of sea-green 
 onyx, seemed to stretch far away in the distance. 
 Nor was he alone. Standing under the shadow of 
 the doorway, at the extreme end of the room, he saw 
 a little figure watching him. His heart trembled, 
 a cry of joy broke from his lips, and he moved out 
 into the sunlight. As he did so, the figure moved out 
 also, and he saw it plainly. 
 
 The Infanta! It was a monster, the most grotesque 
 monster he had ever beheld. Not properly shaped, 
 as all other people were, but hunchbacked, and 
 crooked-limbed, with huge lolling head and mane 
 of black hair. The little Dwarf frowned, and the 
 monster frowned also. He laughed, and it laughed 
 with him, and held its hands to its sides, just as he 
 himself was doing. He made it a mocking bow, and 
 it returned him a low reverence. He went towards 
 it, and it came to meet him, copying each step that he 
 made, and stopping when he stopped himself. He 
 shouted with amusement, and ran forward, and 
 reached out his hand, and the hand of the monster 
 touched his, and it was as cold as ice. He grew afraid, 
 and moved his hand across, and the monster's hand 
 followed it quickly. He tried to press on, but some- 
 thing smooth and hard stopped him. The face of 
 the monster was now close to his own, and seemed 
 full of terror. He brushed his hair off his eyes. It 
 
 176 
 
THE BIRTH DA Y OF THE INFANTA 
 
 i Mi Bella Princessa, your funny little dwarf will never dance again" 1 ' '. 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 imitated him. He struck at it, and it returned blow 
 for blow. He loathed it, and it made hideous faces 
 at him. He drew back, and it retreated. 
 
 What is it? He thought for a moment, and looked 
 round at the rest of the room. It was strange, but 
 everything seemed to have its double in this invisible 
 wall of clear water. Yes, picture for picture was 
 repeated, and couch for couch. The sleeping Faun 
 that lay in the alcove by the doorway had its twin 
 brother that slumbered, and the silver Venus that 
 stood in the sunlight held out her arms to a Venus 
 as lovely as herself. 
 
 Was it echo? He had called to her once in the 
 valley, and she had answered him word for word. 
 Could she mock the eye, as she mocked the voice? 
 Could she make a mimic world just like the real 
 world? Could the shadow of things have color and 
 life and movement? Could it be that — ? 
 
 He started, and taking from his breast the beau- 
 tiful white rose, he turned round and kissed it. The 
 monster had a rose of its own, petal for petal the 
 same! It kissed it with like kisses, and pressed it to 
 its heart with horrible gestures. 
 
 When the truth dawned upon him, he gave a wild 
 cry of despair, and fell sobbing to the ground. So 
 it was he who was misshapen and hunchbacked, foul 
 to look at and grotesque. He himself was the mon- 
 ster, and it was at him that all the children had been 
 
 177 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 laughing, and the little Princess who he had thought 
 loved him, — she too had been merely mocking at his 
 ugliness, and making merry over his twisted limbs. 
 Why had they not left him in the forest where there 
 was no mirror to tell him how loathsome he was? 
 Why had his father not killed him, rather than sell 
 him to his shame? The hot tears poured down his 
 cheeks, and he tore the white rose to pieces. The 
 sprawling monster did the same, and scattered the 
 faint petals in the air. It groveled on the ground, 
 and, when he looked at it, it watched him with a face 
 drawn with pain. He crept away, lest he should 
 see it, and covered his eyes with his hands. He 
 crawled, like some wounded thing, into the shadow, 
 and lay there moaning. 
 
 And at that moment the Infanta herself came in 
 with her companions through the open window, and 
 when they saw the ugly Dwarf lying on the ground 
 and beating the floor with his clenched hands, in the 
 most fantastic and exaggerated manner, they went 
 off into shouts of happy laughter, and stood all round 
 him and watched him. 
 
 "His dancing was funny," cried the Infanta; "but 
 his acting is funnier still. Indeed he is almost as 
 good as the puppets, only of course not so natural." 
 And she fluttered her big fan, and applauded. 
 
 But the little Dwarf never looked up, and his sobs 
 grew fainter and fainter, and suddenly he gave a 
 
 178 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 curious gasp, and clutched his side. And then he 
 fell back again, and lay quite still. 
 
 "That is capital," said the Infanta, after a pause; 
 "but now you must dance for me." 
 
 "Yes," cried all the children, "you must get up 
 and dance, for you are as clever as the Barbary apes, 
 and much more ridiculous." 
 
 But the little Dwarf made no answer. 
 
 And the Infanta stamped her foot, and called out 
 to her uncle, who was walking on the terrace with 
 the Chamberlain, reading some dispatches that had 
 just arrived from Mexico where the Holy Office had 
 recently been established. "My funny little Dwarf is 
 sulking," she cried, "you must wake him up, and tell 
 him to dance for me." 
 
 They smiled at each other, and sauntered in, and 
 Don Pedro stooped down, and slapped the Dwarf 
 on the cheek with his embroidered glove. "You 
 must dance," he said, "petit monstre. You must 
 dance. The Infanta of Spain and the Indies wishes 
 to be amused." 
 
 But the little Dwarf never moved. 
 
 "A whipping-master should be sent for," said Don 
 Pedro wearily, and he went back to the terrace. But 
 the Chamberlain looked grave, and he knelt beside 
 the little Dwarf, and put his hands upon his heart. 
 And after a few moments he shrugged his shoulders, 
 
 179 
 
A HOUSE OF POMEGRANATES 
 
 and rose up, and having made a low bow to me 
 Infanta, he said: 
 
 "Mi bella Princessa, your funny little Dwarf will 
 never dance again. It is a pity, for he is so ugly that 
 he might have made the King smile." 
 
 "But why will he not dance again?" asked the 
 Infanta, laughing. 
 
 "Because his heart is broken," answered the Cham- 
 berlain. 
 
 And the Infanta frowned, and her dainty rose-leaf 
 lips curled in pretty disdain. "For the future let 
 those who come to play with me have no hearts," she 
 cried, and she ran out into the garden. 
 
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