rdle, and being on the bank of a river, which
I knew not how to cross, I was about to fling it in, I was so vexed!
'But no,' thought I, 'there are many people waiting here to cross
besides myself. I will make my girdle into a bridge, and we will cross
over on it.'"
"Turn your girdle into a bridge!" said the prince, doubtfully, for he
did not quite understand.
The man explained himself.
"And, then, sir, after that," he continued, "I turned one-half of my
burden into bread, and gave it to these poor people. Since then I have
not been oppressed by its weight, however heavy it may have been; for
few men have a heavier one. In fact, I gather more from day to day."
As the man kept speaking, he scattered his gold right and left with a
cheerful countenance, and the prince was about to reply, when suddenly a
great trembling under his feet made him fall to the ground. The refining
fires of the gold-gatherers sprang up into flames, and then went out;
night fell over everything on the earth, and nothing was visible in the
sky but the stars of the southern cross.
"It is past midnight," thought the prince, "for the stars of the cross
begin to bend."
He raised himself upon his elbow, and tried to pierce the darkness, but
could not. At length a slender blue flame darted out, as from ashes in a
chafing-dish, and by the light of it he saw the strange pattern of his
carpet and the cushions lying about. He did not recognize them at first,
but presently he knew that he was lying in his usual place, at the top
of his tower.
"Wake up, prince," said the old man.
The prince sat up and sighed, and the old man inquired what he had seen.
"O man of much learning!" answered the prince, "I have seen that this is
a wonderful world; I have seen the value of labor, and I know the uses
of it; I have tasted the sweetness of liberty, and am grateful, though
it was but in a dream; but as for that other word that was so great a
mystery to me, I only know this, that it must remain a mystery forever,
since I am fain to believe that all men are bent on getting it; though,
once gotten, it causeth them endless disquietude, only second to their
discomfort that are without it. I am fain to believe that they can
procure with it whatever they most desire, and yet that it cankers their
hearts and dazzles their eyes; that it is their nature and their duty to
gather it; and yet that, when once gathered, the best thing they can do
is to scatter it!"
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