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石榴之屋

少年国王
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少年国王

在加冕典礼的前一天晚上,少年国王独自一人坐在他那间漂亮的房子里。他的大臣们按

照当时的礼节,头朝地向他鞠了躬,便告辞而去。他们来到皇宫的大厅中,向礼节教授学习

最后的几堂课,因为他们当中有几个人的举止还没有经过教化,不用说,这是很不礼貌的事

情。

这位少年——他仅仅是个少年,不过才十六岁——对他们的离去一点也不觉得难过。他

把身体向后靠去,坐在他那绣花沙发的软垫上,长长地舒了一口气,躺了下去,睁着两眼,

张着嘴,真像一位褐色的林地农牧神,或一只被猎人刚刚抓获的森林中的小动物。

说来也巧,他正是猎人们找到的,他们遇到他也差不多是凭运气。当时他光着脚,手里

拿着笛子,正跟在把他养大的穷牧羊人的羊群后面,而且他一直把自己看作穷牧羊人的儿

子。他的母亲原来是老国王的独生女儿。她偷偷地恋上了一个比她地位低得多的人一一有人

说,那人是外地来的,他用笛子吹出魔术般的美妙声音,使年轻的公主钟情于他;另外有人

说他是来自意大利里米尼的艺术家,公主对他很器重,也许是太看重他了。他不知怎的突然

间从城市里消失了,他那幅没有完成的作品还留在大教堂里——那时小孩才一个星期大,他

就从熟睡的孩子母亲身边偷偷抱走孩子,交给一对普通的农家夫妇去照管。这对夫妇自己没

有孩子,住在密林的深处,从城里骑马要一天才能到达。不知是像宫廷的御医所宣布的那样

因为悲伤过度,或者是像一些人所谈论的那样喝了放在香料酒中的一种意大利急性毒药,反

正那位给予这孩子生命的苍白的少女在不到一小时的时间内就死去了。一位忠诚的差人带着

孩子跨上马鞍走了,当他从疲惫的马背上俯下身来敲响牧羊人小茅屋简陋的房门时,公主的

尸体正被下葬于一个打开的墓穴中,这个墓穴就挖在一个荒凉的教堂墓地里,那里靠近城

门。据说在那个墓穴里还躺着另一具尸体,他是一位非常英俊的外地男人,他的双手被反绑

着,打了个绳结,胸膛上留着好多血淋淋的伤口。

至少,这正是人们私下悄悄相互传递的说法。然而令人确信的是老国王在临终时,不知

是由于对自己犯下的大罪而悔恨,或是仅仅因为希望自己的王国不至于落入外人之手,就派

人去找回那个少年,并当着宫中大臣的面,承认少年为自己的继位人。

似乎就从少年被承认的那一刻起,他就表现出了对美丽事物的极大热情,这便注定了将

对他的一生起到巨大的影响。那些陪伴他到预备的房间侍候他休息的仆人,常常讲起当他看

见那些华丽的服装和贵重宝石时会兴奋地大叫起来,并且在脱去身上的粗皮衣和粗羊皮外套

时简直是欣喜若狂。有时候他确也很怀念他那段自由自在的森林生活,且始终都对占去一天

大部分时间的繁杂的宫廷礼节感到忿懑,但这却是座富丽的宫殿——人们把它叫做“逍遥

宫”——此刻他一下子成了它的主人,对他来说,这就像是一个专为取悦他而新建成的时髦

的新世界;只要他能够从议会厅或会见室里逃出来,他便会跑下那立着镀金铜狮的亮闪闪的

斑岩石大台阶,从一个屋子转到另一个屋子,又从一条走廊来到另一条走廊,好像要一个人

在美中间找到一付止痛药,或一种治病的良方似的。

对于这种充满新发现的旅行,这是他对此的称谓——说真的,对他来说这可是真正地在

神境中漫游了。有时候会有几位身着披风飘着艳丽丝带的金发宫廷侍卫陪伴着;但更多的时

候,他常常是一个人,凭着感觉上的某种敏捷的本能,这差不多是一种先见之明吧,把握到

艺术的秘密最好是在秘密中求得,况且美也同智慧一样,钟爱的是孤独的崇拜者。

这段时期里流传着很多有关他的奇闻怪事。据说有一位胖乎乎的市政长官,代表全城市

民出来发表了一大通华丽堂皇的言论,还说他看见他十分崇敬地跪在一幅刚从威尼斯带来的

巨画面前,似乎要捍卫对新的众神的崇拜。还有那么一次他失踪了好几个小时,费了好大劲

人们才在宫殿内北边小塔的一间小屋里找到了他,他正痴呆呆地凝视着一块刻有美少年阿多

尼斯像的希腊宝石。还有人传说亲眼见他用自己的热唇去吻一座大理石古雕像的前额,那座

古雕像是人们在修建石桥时在河床中发现的,除像上还刻着罗马皇帝哈得里安所拥有的俾斯

尼亚国奴隶的名字。他还花了一整夜时间去观察月光照在安地民银像上的各种变化。

一切稀罕的和昂贵的东西对他的确都有极大的吸引力,使他急切地想得到它们。为此他

派出了许多商人,有的被派往北海,向那里的穷渔夫购买琥珀,有的到埃及去找寻那些只有

在法老的墓穴中才能找到的绿宝石,据说这种宝石具有非同一般的魔力,还有的去波斯收购

丝绒编织的地毯和彩陶,另外很多人就去印度采购薄纱和着色的象牙,月亮宝石和翡翠手

镯,檀香和蓝色珐琅以及细毛织披巾。

然而,最让他费心的还是在他登位加冕时穿的长袍。长袍是金线织的,另外还有嵌满了

红宝石的王冠以及那根挂着一串串珍珠的权杖。其实,他今晚所想的就是这个,当时他躺在

奢华的沙发上,望着大块的松木在壁炉中慢慢地燃尽。它们都是由那个时代最著名的艺术家

亲手设计的,设计式样也早在几个月前就呈交给他过目了,他也下了命令要求工匠们不分昼

夜地把它们赶制出来,还让人去满世界找寻那些能够配得上他们手艺的珠宝。他在想象中看

见自己穿着华贵的皇袍站在大教堂中高高的祭坛上,他那孩子气的嘴唇上露出了笑容,那双

森林人特有的黑眼睛也放射出明亮的光芒。

过了一会儿他站起身来,靠在壁炉顶部雕花的庇檐上,目光环视着灯光昏暗的屋子。四

周的墙上挂着代表“美的胜利”的华丽装饰物。一个大衣橱,上面嵌着玛瑙和琉璃,把一个

墙角给填满了。面对窗户立着一个异常别致的柜子,上面的漆格层不是镀了金粉就是镶着金

片,格层上摆放着一些精美的威尼斯玻璃高脚酒杯,还有一个黑纹玛瑙大杯子。绸子的床单

上绣着一些浅白的罂粟花,它们好像是从睡眠的倦手中撒落下来的。刻有条形凹槽的高大的

象牙柱撑起天鹅绒的华盖,华盖上面大簇的驼鸟毛像白色泡沫一般地向上伸展,一直达到银

白色的回文装饰屋顶上。用青铜做的美少年纳西苏斯像满脸笑容地用双手举起一面亮光光的

镜子。桌上放着一个紫晶做的平底盆。

窗外,他可以看见教堂的大圆顶,隐隐约约的像个气泡浮动在阴暗的房屋上面。无精打

采的哨兵们在靠近河边的雾蒙蒙的阳台上来回地走着。在远处的一座果园里,一只夜莺在唱

歌。一缕浅浅的茉莉花香从开着的窗户飘了进来。他把自己的棕色卷发从前额朝后掠去,随

后拿起一只琵琶,让手指随便地在弦上拨弄着。他的眼皮沉重地往下垂去,一股莫名的倦意

袭上身来。在这以前他从来没有这么强烈地并且是如此兴奋地感受到美的东西的魔力和神秘。

钟楼传来午夜钟声的时候,他按了一下铃,仆人们进来了,按繁杂的礼节为他脱去袍

子,并往他手上洒上玫瑰香水,在他的枕头上撒上鲜花。待他们退出房间后没多久,他就入

睡了。

他睡着后做了一个梦,梦是这样的:

他觉得自己正站在一间又长又矮的阁楼里,四周是一片织布机的转动声和敲击声。微弱

的光线透过格栅窗射了进来,使他看见了那些俯在织机台上工作的织工们憔悴的身影。一些

面带病容脸色苍白的孩子们蹲在巨大的横梁上而。每当梭子飞快地穿过经线的时候,织工们

便把沉重的箱座抬起,梭子一停下来又立即放下筘座,把线压在一起。他们的脸上露出饥饿

难忍的表情,一双双干枯的手不停地震动着,颤抖着。一些赢弱的妇女坐在一张桌边做着缝

纫。房间里充满了刺鼻的臭气,空气既污浊又沉闷,四壁因潮湿而滴水不止。

少年国王来到一位织工跟前,看着他工作。

织工却怒冲冲地望着他说,“你为什么老看着我?你是不是主人派来监视我们干活的探

子?”

“谁是你们的主人?”少年国王问道。

“我们的主人!”织工痛苦地大声说,“他是跟我一样的人。其实,我和他之间就这么

点区别——他穿漂亮的衣服而我总是破衣烂衫,我饿得骨瘦如柴,他却饱得难受。”

“这是个自由的国家,”少年国王说,“你不是任何人的奴隶。”

“战争时代,”织工回答说,“强者把弱者变为奴隶,而在和平年代富人把穷人变成奴

隶。我们必须靠干活来糊口,可是他们给的工资少得可怜,我们会给饿死的。我们整天为他

们做苦役,他们的箱子里堆满了黄金,我们的子女还未长大成人就夭折了,我们所爱的那些

人的脸变得愁苦而凶恶。我们榨出的葡萄汁,却让别人去品尝。我们种出的谷物,却不能端

上我们的饭桌。我们戴着枷锁,尽管它们是无形的;而我们是奴隶,虽然人们说我们是自由

人。”

“所有的人都是这样的吗?”少年国王问道。

“所有的人都这祥,”织工答道,“不论是年轻的或是年老的,不管是男人或是女人,

小孩子或是终年艰辛的人们都一样。商人们压榨我们,我们还得照他们的话去做。牧师们骑

马从我们身边走过,口中不停地数着念珠,没有一个人关心我们。穷困张着饥饿的双眼爬过

阴暗的小巷,罪恶带着他的酒精面孔紧随其后。早晨唤醒我们的是悲痛,晚上伴我们入睡的

是耻辱。但是这些与你有什么关系?你又不是我们中的一员。你的神情是多么的快乐啊!,

说完他满脸不高兴地转过头去,并把梭子穿过织机,少年国王看见梭子上面织出的是一根金

线。

他心中猛地一惊,赶紧问织工,“你织的是什么袍子?”

“这是少年国王加冕时穿的袍子,”他回答说,“你问这干什么?”

这时少年国王大叫一声便醒了,天啊!他原来是在自己的房间里,透过窗户他看见蜜色

的大月亮正挂在熹微的天空上。

他又一次睡着了,再次做起了梦,梦是这样的:

他觉得自己躺在一艘大帆船的甲板上面,一百个奴隶在为船划桨。船长就坐在他身边的

地毯上。他黑得像一块乌木,头巾是深江色的丝绸做的。厚厚的耳垂上挂着一对硕大的银耳

坠,他的手中象着一架象牙天平。

奴隶们除了腰间的一块破烂的遮羞布外,全身上下光溜溜的,每个人都与旁边的另一个

锁在一起。骄阳热辣辣地射在他们身上,黑人们在过道上跑来跑去的,同时皮鞭不停地抽打

在他们身上。他们伸出干枯的双臂往水中划动着沉重的桨。咸咸的海水从桨上飞溅起来。

最后他们来到一个小港湾,并开始测量水的深度。一阵微风从岸上吹来,给甲板和大三

角帆上蒙上了一层细细的红沙。三个阿拉伯人骑着野毛驴赶来朝他们投来标枪。船长拿起一

张弓,射中了他们其中一人的咽喉。他重重地跌进了海浪之中,他的同伴也仓皇逃占。一位

面蒙黄色纱巾的女子骑着骆驼慢慢地跟在后面,还不时地回头看看那具死尸。

黑人们抛了锚,降下了帆,纷纷来到舱底下,拿出一根长长的吊梯来,梯下绑着铅锤。

船长把绳梯从船侧扔下去,把梯的两端系在两根铁柱上面。这时,黑人们抓住一位最年轻的

奴隶,打开了他的脚镣,并往他的鼻孔和耳朵里灌满蜡,还在他的腰间捆上了一块石头。他

疲惫地爬下绳梯,便消失在海水中了。在他入水的地方冒出了几个水泡。另外一些奴隶在一

旁好奇地张望着。在船头上坐着一位驱赶鲨鱼的人,他在单调不停地击着鼓。

过了一会儿潜水者从水中冒了上来,喘着粗气攀梯而上,右手拿着一颗珍珠。黑人们从

他手中夺去珍珠,又把他抛到海里。而奴隶们已靠在桨旁入睡了。

他上来了一次又一次,每次都带上一颗美丽的珍珠。船长把珍珠都过了秤,并把它们放

进一只绿色皮革的小袋子中。

少年国王想说点什么,可是他的舌头好像给粘在了上牙齿后面,他的嘴唇也动弹不了。

黑人们在彼此谈着话,并开始为一串明珠争吵起来。两只白鹤围绕着帆船飞个不停。

这时潜水者最后一次冒出水来,带上来的珍珠比奥马兹岛所有的珍珠都要美,因为它的

形状如同一轮满月,白得超过了晨星的颜色。不过他的脸却苍白异常,他一头倒在甲板上,

鲜血立即从他的耳朵和鼻孔中迸射而出。他只是颤抖了一下就再也动弹不了啦。黑人们耸耸

肩,把他的尸体抛向船舷外的海水中。

船长笑了,他伸出手去拿起那颗珍珠,他一边看着它,一边把它放在自己的前额上并鞠

了一个躬。“它应该用来,”他说,“用来装饰少年国王的权杖。”说完他朝黑人们打了个

手势示意起锚。

少年国王听到这里,突然大叫一声,便醒了过来,透过窗户,他看见那些破晓的长手指

正在摘取衰弱的繁星。

他再一次入睡了,做了梦,梦是这样的:

他觉得自己正徘徊在一个阴森森的树林中,树上悬挂着奇形的果子和美丽而有毒的鲜

花。他经过的地方,毒蛇朝他嘶嘶地叫着,羽毛华丽的鹦鹉尖叫着从一根树枝飞到另一个枝

头上。巨大的乌龟躺在热乎乎的泥潭中睡大觉。树上到处都是猴子和孔雀。

他走着走着,一直来到树林的边缘,在那儿他看见有好大一群人在一条干枯的河床上做

苦役。他们像蚂蚁般地蜂拥至岩石上。他们在地上挖了好些深洞,并下到洞里去。他们中的

一些人用大斧头开山劈石,另一些人在沙滩上摸索着。他们连根拔起仙人掌,并踏过鲜红的

花朵。他们忙来忙去,彼此叫喊着,没有一个人偷懒。

死亡和贪婪从洞穴的阴暗处注视着他们,死亡开口说:“我已经疲倦了,把他们中的三

分之一给我,我要走了。”

不过贪婪却摇了摇头。“他们是我的仆人,”她回答说。

死亡对她说,“你手中拿的是什么东西?”

“我有三粒谷子,”她回答说,“那跟你有什么关系?”

“给我一粒,”死亡大声说,“去种在我的花园中,只要其中的一粒,我要走了。”

“我什么也不会给你的,”贪婪说,说着她把手藏在自己衣服福边的里面。

死亡笑了。他拿起一只杯子,并把它浸在水池中,等杯子出来时里面已生出了疟疾。疟

疾从人群中走过,三分之一的人便倒下死去了。她的身后卷起一股寒气,她的身旁狂窜着无

数条水蛇。

贪婪看见三分之一的人都死去了,便捶胸大哭起来。她捶打着自己干枯的胸膛,哭叫着

说:“你杀死了我三分之一的仆人,你快走吧。在鞑靼人的山上正举行着一场战争,双方的

国王都在呼唤你去。阿富汗人杀掉了黑牛,正开往前线。他们用长矛敲击着自己的盾牌,还

戴上了铁盔。我的山谷对你有什么用,你没有必要呆在这儿吧?你快走吧,不要再到这儿来

了。”

“不,”死亡回答说,“除非你再给我一粒谷子,否则我是不会走的。”

贪婪一下子捏紧自己的手,牙齿也咬得紧绷绷的。“我不会给你任何东西的,”她喃喃

地说。

死亡笑了。他捡起一块黑色的石头,朝树林中扔去,从密林深处的野毒芹丛中走出了身

穿火焰长袍的热病。她从人群中走过,去触摸他们,凡是被她碰着的人都死去了。她脚下踏

过的青草也跟着枯萎了。

贪婪颤抖起来,把泥土放在自己的头上。“你太残忍了,”她叫着说,“你太残忍了。

在印度的好多城市里正闹着饥荒,撒马尔罕的蓄水池也干枯了。埃及的好多城市里也在闹饥

荒,蝗虫也从沙漠飞来了。尼罗河水并没有冲上岸来,牧师们正痛骂他们自己的神爱西斯和

阿西里斯。到那些需要你的人那儿去吧,放过我的仆人吧。”

“不,”死亡回答说,“除非你给我一粒谷子,否则我是不会离开的。”

“我什么东西也不会给你,”贪婪说。

死亡再一次笑了,他将手放在嘴上在指缝中吹了一声口哨,只见一个女人从空中飞来。

她的额头上印着“瘟疫”两个字,一群饥饿的老鹰在她身旁飞旋着。她用巨大的翅膀蓝住了

整个山谷,没有一个人能逃脱她的魔掌。

贪婪尖叫着穿过树林逃走了,死亡跨上他那匹红色的大马也飞驰而去,他的马跑得比风

还快。

从山谷底部的稀泥中爬出无数条龙和有鳞甲的怪兽,一群胡狼也沿着沙滩跑来,并用鼻

孔贪婪地吸着空气。

少年国王哭了,他说:“这些人是谁?他们在寻找什么东西?”

“国王王冠上的红宝石,”站在他身后的一个人说。

少年国王吃了一惊,转过头去,看见一个香客模样的人,那人手中拿着一面银镜。

他脸色变得苍白起来,并开口问道:“哪一个国王?”

香客回答说:“看着这面镜子,你会看见他的。”

他朝镜子看去,见到的是他自己的面孔,他大叫了一声就惊醒了。灿烂的阳光泻入房

屋,从外面花园和庭园的树上传来了鸟儿的歌唱。

宫廷大臣和文武百官走进房来向他行礼,侍者给他拿来用金线篇织的长袍,还把王冠和

权杖放在他面前。

少年国王看着它们,它们美极了,比他以前见过的任何东西都要美。然而他还记得自己

做的梦,于是便对大臣们说:“把这些东西都拿走,我不会穿戴它们的。”

群臣都感到很惊讶,有些人甚至笑了,因为他们认为国王是在开玩笑。

可是他再次严肃地对他们说:“把这些东西都拿开,不要让我见到它们。虽然今天是我

加冕的日子,但是我不会穿戴它们的。因为我的这件长袍是在忧伤的织机上用痛苦的苍白的

双手织出来的。红宝石的心是用鲜血染红的。珍珠的心上有死亡的阴影。”接着他对他们讲

述了自己的三个梦。

大臣们听完故事后,互相对视着,低声交谈说:“他一定是疯了,梦还不就是梦吗,幻

觉只不过是幻觉罢了,它们不是真的,用不着在意。再说,那些为我们做工的人的生命又与

我们有什么相干的?难道一个人没有看见播种就不能吃面包,没有与种葡萄的人交谈过就不

能喝葡萄酒了吗?”宫廷大臣对少年国王说道:“陛下,我恳求您把这些忧伤的念头抛开,

穿上这件美丽的袍子,戴上这顶王冠吧。如果您不穿上王袍,人民怎么会知道您就是国王

呢?”

少年国王望着他。“真是这样吗?”他问道,“如果我不穿王袍,他们就不会知道我是

国王了吗?”

“他们不会认识您的,陛下,”宫廷大臣大声说。

“我从前还以为真有那么一些带帝王之相的人,”少年国王回答说,“不过也许正如你

所说的,然而我还是不穿这身长袍,而且也不戴这顶王冠,我要像进宫时的那样走出宫去。”

然后他吩咐他们都离去,只留一个侍者来陪他,这个侍者的年中洗了个澡,打开一个上

了漆的箱子,从箱中他拿出皮衣和粗羊皮外套,这些都是当年他在山腰上放羊时穿过的。他

穿上它们,手里又拿起那根粗大的牧羊杖。

这位小侍者吃惊地睁大一双蓝色的眼睛,笑着对他说:“陛下,我看见你的长袍和权

杖,可你的王冠在哪儿?”

少年国王从攀附在阳台上的野荆棘上折下一枝,把它弯曲成一个圆圈,放在了自己的头

上。

“这就是我的王冠,”他回答说。

这样穿戴好后,他走出房间来到大厅中,显贵们都在那儿等着他。

显贵们觉得很可笑,他们中有的人还对他叫道:“陛下,臣民们等着见他们的国王,而

您却让他们看到了一位乞丐。”另有一些人怒气冲冲地说:“他使我们的国家蒙羞,不配做

我们的主人。”然而,他对他们一言不发,只是朝前走去,走下明亮的斑岩石阶,出了青铜

大门,骑上自己的坐骑,朝教堂奔去,小侍者跟在他身旁跑着。

百姓们笑了,他们说:“骑马走过的是国王的小丑。”他们嘲笑着他。

而他却勒住马缅,开口说道:“不,我就是国王。”于是他把自己的三个梦讲给了他们

听。

一个人从人群中走出,他痛苦地对国王说道:“皇上,你不知道穷人的生活是从富人的

奢侈中得来的吗?就是靠你们的富有我们才得以生存,是你们的恶习给我们带来了面包。给

一个严厉的主子干活是很艰苦的,但若没有主子要我们于活那会更艰苦。你以为乌鸦会养活

我们吗?对这些事你会有什么良方吗?你会对买主说,‘你要用这么多钱来买’,而同时又

对卖主说,‘你要以这个价格卖’吗?我敢说你不会。所以回到你自己的宫中去,穿上你的

高贵紫袍吧。你和我们以及我们遭受的痛苦有什么相干的?”

“难道富人和穷人不是兄弟吗?”少年国王问道。

“是啊,”那人回答说,“那个有钱兄长的名字叫该隐(即《圣经》中杀害弟弟的

人)。”

少年国王的眼里充满了泪水,他骑着马在百姓们的喃喃低语中走过,小侍者感到好害

怕,就走开了。

他来到教堂的大门口时,卫兵们举起他们手中的戟对他说:“你到这儿来干什么?除了

国王以外任何人不得入内。”

一听这话他气得满脸通红,便对他们说:“我就是国王。”说完把他们的戟推开,就走

进去了。

老主教看见他穿一身牧羊人的衣服走了进来,吃惊地从宝座上站起来,迎上前去,对他

说:“我的孩子,这是国王的服饰吗?我用什么王冠为你加冕?又拿什么样的权杖放在你的

手中呢?这对你当然应该是个快乐的日子,而不应是一个屈辱的日子。”

“难道快乐要用愁苦来装门面吗?”少年国王说。然后他对老主教讲了自己的三个梦。

主教听完了三个梦后,眉头紧锁,他说:“孩子,我是个老人,已进入垂暮之年,我知

道在这个大千世界里还有很多邪恶的东西。凶狠的土匪从山上下来,掳去无数小孩,把他们

卖给摩尔人。狮子躺在草丛中等待着过往的商队,准备扑咬骆驼。野猪将山谷中的庄稼连根

拔起。狐狸咬着山上的葡萄藤。海盗们在海岸一带兴风作浪,焚烧渔船,还把渔民的渔网抢

走。在盐泽地带住着麻疯病人,他们用芦苇杆盖起小屋,没有人愿意接近他们。乞丐们在大

街上漂流,同狗一起争食吃。你能够让这些事情不出现吗?你愿意让麻疯病人同你一起睡

觉,让乞丐同你一起进餐吗?你会叫狮子听你的话,野猪服从你的命令吗?难道制造出这些

苦难的上帝还不如你聪明吗?因此,我不会为你所做的事而赞扬你的,我要求你骑马回你自

己的王宫中,脸上要露出笑容,并穿上符合国王身分的衣服,我要用金王冠来为你加冕,我

要把嵌满珍珠的权杖放在你的手中。至于你的那些梦,就不要再想它们了。这世上的负担已

经太重了,是一个人难以承受的;人间的愁苦也太大了,不是一颗心所能负担的。”

“你就是在这间房子里说这种话的吗?”少年国王说。他大步从主教身旁走过,登上祭

坛的台梯,站到了基督像前。

他站在基督像前,在他的左手边和右手边分别放着华丽的金盆,装黄酒的圣餐杯和装圣

油的瓶子。他跪在基督像下,巨大的蜡烛在珠光宝气的神座旁明亮地燃烧着,燃香的烟雾绕

成一圆圈蓝色的轻烟飘向屋梁。他低下头去进行祈祷,那些身着硬挺法衣的牧师们纷纷走下

了祭坛。

突然,从外面的大街上传来了喧哗声,一群头戴羽缨的贵族们走了进来,他们手中握着

出鞘的宝剑和闪光的钢制盾牌。“做梦的那个人在什么地方?”他们大声嚷道,“那位国

王,就是那位打扮得像个乞丐,给我们的国家带来耻辱的男孩在什么地方?我们一定要杀了

他,因为他不配统治我们。”

少年国王再一次低下头去祈祷,祷告完毕他便站起身来,转过头去悲伤地望着他们。

啊!看那,阳光透过彩色的玻璃窗照在他的身上,光线在他的四周织出一件金袍,比那

件为取悦于他而编织的王袍更加美丽。干枯的枝条怒放出鲜花,那是比珍珠还要洁白的百合

花。干枯的荆棘也开花了,开放出比红宝石还要红的红玫瑰。比上等珍珠还洁白的百合花,

它们的根茎是由亮闪闪纠银子做成的。比红宝石更红的玫魂,它们的叶子是由金子铸造的。

他身穿国王的衣服站在那里,珠宝镶嵌的神龛打开了盖子,从光芒四射的圣体匣的水晶

上放出异常神奇的光。他身着国王的衣服站在那儿,这里就充满了上帝的荣光,连壁龛中的

圣徒们也好像在动。身穿国王的华贵衣服,他站在了他们的面前,风琴奏出了乐曲,喇叭手

吹响了他们的喇叭,唱诗班的孩子们在放声歌唱。

百姓们敬畏地跪下身来,贵族们收回宝剑并向少年国王行礼,主教大人的脸色变得苍

白,双手颤抖不已。“给你加冕的人比我更伟大。”他大声说道,并跪倒在国王面前。

少年国王从高高的祭坛上走下来,穿过人群朝自己的房间走去。此时没有一个人敢看他

的脸,因为那容貌就跟天使一样。

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 receive a few last

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 offence.

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

kings only daughter by a secret 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, perhaps too much honour, and who had suddenly

disappeared from the city, leaving his work in the cathedral

unfinished - he had been, when but a week old, stolen away from his

mothers 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 days 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 bare the

child across his saddle-bow stooped from his weary horse and

knocked at the rude door of the goatherds 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

marvellous and foreign beauty, whose hands were tied behind him

with a knotted cord, and whose breast was stabbed with many red

wounds.

such, at least, was the story that men whispered to each other.

certain it was that the old king, when on his deathbed, whether

moved by remorse for his great sin, or merely desiring that the

kingdom 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 delight; and as soon as he

could escape from the council-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 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 marvellous 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 worshipper.

many curious stories were related about him at this period. it was

said that a stout burgo-master, 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 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 procure 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 silken carpets and

painted pottery, and others to india to buy gauze and stained

ivory, moonstones 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, the robe of tissued gold, and the ruby-studded crown,

and the sceptre 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 pinewood 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 submitted 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 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 lustre his

dark woodland 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 mosaiced 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 bare 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 perfume of jasmine

came through the open window. 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, 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

whir and clatter of many looms. the meagre daylight peered in

through the grated windows, and showed him the gaunt figures of the

weavers bending over their cases. pale, sickly-looking 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

together. their faces were pinched with famine, and their thin

hands shook and trembled. some haggard women were seated at a

table sewing. a horrible odour filled the place. the air was foul

and heavy, and the walls dripped and streamed with damp.

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 difference 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 mans

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, and 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 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 weaving?

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-coloured

moon hanging 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 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 neighbour. 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, making 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 his ears with wax, and tied a big

stone round his waist. he crept wearily down the ladder, and

disappeared into the 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, reaching 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 sceptre 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 grey fingers of the dawn

clutching at the fading stars.

and he fell asleep again, and dreamed, and this was his 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 peacocks.

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 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 servants, 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 multitude 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 shouldst tarry in it? get

thee gone, and come here no more.

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 beneath 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 overflowed 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 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 kings 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 mirror, 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 sceptre before him.

and the young king looked at them, and they were beautiful. more

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

remembered his dreams, and he said to his lords: take these

things away, for i will not wear them.

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

thought that he was jesting.

but he spake sternly to them again, and said: take these things

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

coronation, i will not wear them. for on the loom of sorrow, and

by the white hands of pain, has this my robe been woven. there is

blood in the heart of the ruby, and death in the heart of the

pearl. and he told them his three dreams.

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

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

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

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

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

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

and the chamberlain spake to the young king, and said, my lord, i

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

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

people know that thou art a king, if thou hast not a kings

raiment?

and the young king looked at him. is it so, indeed? he

questioned. will they not know me for a king if i have not a

kings raiment?

they will not know thee, my lord, cried the chamberlain.

i had thought that there had been men who were kinglike, he

answered, but it may be as thou sayest. and yet i will not wear

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

came to the palace so will i go forth from it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

his hand he took his rude shepherds staff.

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

smiling to him, my lord, i see thy robe and thy sceptre, but where

is thy crown?

and the young king plucked a spray of wild briar that was climbing

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

on his own head.

this shall he my crown, he answered.

and thus attired he passed out of his chamber into the great hall,

where the nobles were waiting for him.

and the nobles made merry, and some of them cried out to him, my

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

beggar, and others were wroth and said, he brings shame upon our

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

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

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

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

and the people laughed and said, it is the kings fool who is

riding by, and they mocked him.

and he drew rein and said, nay, but i am the king. and he told

them his three dreams.

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

said, sir, knowest thou not that out of the luxury of the rich

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

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

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

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

things? wilt thou say to the buyer, "thou shalt buy for so much,"

and to the seller, "thou shalt sell at this price"? i trow not.

therefore go back to thy palace and put on thy purple and fine

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

are not the rich and the poor brothers? asked the young king.

ay, answered the man, and the name of the rich brother is cain.

and the young kings eyes filled with tears, and he rode on through

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

him.

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

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

none enters by this door but the king.

and his face flushed with anger, and he said to them, i am the

king, and waved their halberts aside and passed in.

and when the old bishop saw him coming in his goatherds dress, he

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

to him, my son, is this a kings apparel? and with what crown

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

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

abasement.

shall joy wear what grief has fashioned? said the young king.

and he told him his three dreams.

and when the bishop had heard them he knit his brows, and said, my

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

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

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

and sell them to the moors. the lions lie in wait for the

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

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

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

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

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

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

food with the dogs. canst thou make these things not to be? wilt

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

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

is not he who made misery wiser than thou art? wherefore i praise

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

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

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

the sceptre of pearl will i place in thy hand. and as for thy

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

great for one man to bear, and the worlds sorrow too heavy for one

heart to suffer.

sayest thou that in this house? said the young king, and he

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

stood before the image of christ.

he stood before the image of christ, and on his right hand and on

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

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

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

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

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

priests in their stiff copes crept away from the altar.

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

entered the nobles with drawn swords and nodding plumes, and

shields of polished steel. where is this dreamer of dreams? they

cried. where is this king who is apparelled like a beggar - this

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

he is unworthy to rule over us.

and the young king bowed his head again, and prayed, and when he

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

them sadly.

and lo! through the painted windows came the sunlight streaming

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

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

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

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

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

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

their leaves were of beaten gold.

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

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

monstrance shone a marvellous and mystical light. he stood there

in a kings 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 bishops face grew

pale, and his hands trembled. a greater than i hath crowned

thee, he cried, and he knelt before him.

and the young king came down from the high altar, and passed home

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

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

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