夜莺与玫瑰-第21部分

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indow。　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　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　bee　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　panions　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　e　here　no　more。”
“Nay，”answered　Death，　“　but　till　thou　hast　given　me　a　grain　of　corn　I　will　not　go。”
But　Avarice　shut　her　han