Prince

"Why, then, do they, not break them asunder," exclaimed the prince,

"and fling them away?"

"Break them asunder!" cried the man; "why, what a madman you must

be; they are made of the purest gold!"

"Forgive my ignorance," replied the prince; "I am a stranger."

So he walked on, for feelings of delicacy prevented him from gazing any

longer at the men with the golden girdles; but as he went he pondered on

the misery he had seen, and thought to himself that this golden sand did

more mischief than all the poisons of the apothecary; for it dazzled the

eyes of some, it strained the hearts of others, it bowed down the heads of

many to the earth with its weight; it was a sore labor to gather it, and

when it was gathered the robber might carry it away; it would be a good

thing, he thought, if there were none of it.

After this he came to a place where were sitting some aged widows and

some orphan children of the gold-diggers, who were helpless and

destitute; they were weeping and bemoaning themselves, but stopped at

the approach of a man whose appearance attracted the prince, for he had

a very great bundle of gold on his back, and yet it did not bow him down

at all; his apparel was rich, but he had no girdle on, and his face was

anything but sad.

"Sir," said the prince to him, "you have a great burden; you are fortunate

to be able to stand under it."

"I could not do so," he replied, "only that as I go on I keep lightening it;"

and as he passed each of the widows, he threw gold to her, and, stooping

down, hid pieces of it in the bosoms of the children.

"You have no girdle," said the prince.

"I once had one," answered the gold-gatherer; "but it was so tight over

my breast that my heart grew cold under it, and almost ceased to beat.

Having a great quantity of gold on my back, I felt almost at the last gasp;

so I threw off my girdle, 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!"

The next morning, when he awoke, the old man was gone. He had taken

with him the golden cup. And the sentinel was also gone, none knew

whither. Perhaps the old man had turned his golden cup into a golden

key.