Now as it chanced, the day was almost spent When down the lonely mountain-side he went, The whitehaired man, the Prince that was; and ere He won the silence of the valley where
The city's many towers uprose, the gate Was closed against him, for the hour was late. So even as they that have not wherewithal To roof them from the rain if it should fall,
Upon the grassy ground this king's son lay, And slept till nigh the coming of the day. But while as any vagabond he slept Or outcast from the homes of men, there crept
Unto him lying in such sorry sort A something fairer than the kingliest court In all the peopled world had witness of — Even the shadow of the throne of Love,
That from a height beyond all height did creep Along the pavement of the halls of sleep. O fair and wonderful! that shadow was The golden dream of dreams that came across
His youth, full half an hundred years before, And sent him wandering through the world. Once more In a lone boat that sails and oars had none, Midmost a land of summer and the sun
Where nothing was that was not fair to see, Adown a gliding river glided he, And saw the city that was built thereby, And saw the chariot of the queen draw nigh,
And gazed upon her in the goodly street; Whereat he waked and rose upon his feet, Remembering the Vision of the Seer, And what the spirit spake unto his ear:
“When in thy wanderings thou shalt dream once more The fateful dream thou haddest heretofore, That filled thy veins with longing as with wine Till all thy being brimm'd over — by that sign
Thou mayest know thyself at last to be Within the borders of his empery Who hath the mystic emerald stone, whose gleam Shall light thee to the country of thy dream.”
Then rose the heart within his heart and said: “O bitter scornful Fate, in days long dead I asked and thou denied'st mine asking: now The boon can no-wise profit me, and thou
Dost mock me with bestowal!” Thereupon He fell to thinking of his youthhood gone, And wept. For now the goal, the longtime-sought, Was even at hand, “but how shall I,” he thought,
“I that am old and sad and hoary-haired, Enter the place for youth and love prepared? For in my veins the wellspring of desire Hath failed, and in mine heart the golden fire
Burneth no more for ever. I draw near The night that is about our day, and hear The sighing of the darkness as I go Whose ancient secret there is none doth know.”
Ev'n so to his own heart he spake full sad, And many and bitter were the thoughts he had Of days that were and days that were to be. But now the East was big with dawn, and he
Drew nigh the city-gates and entered in, Ere yet the place remurmured with the din Of voices and the tread of human feet; And going up the void and silent street,
All in the chill gleam of the new-lit air, A Thought found way into his soul, and there Abode and grew, and in brief while became Desire, and quickened to a quenchless flame:
And holding converse with himself, he said, “Though in my heart the heart's desire be dead, And can no more these time-stilled pulses move; Though Death were lovelier to these eyes than Love
Yet would these eyes behold, or ere I pass, The land that mirror'd lay as in a glass In the deep wells of dream. And her that is The sunlight of that city of all bliss,
Her would I fain see once with waking eyes Whom sleep hath rendered unto vision twice. And having seen her beauty I would go My way, even to the river which doth flow
From daylight unto darkness and the place Of silence, where the ghosts are face to face.” So mused the man, and evermore his thought Gave him no peace. Wherefore next morn he sought
The palace of the king, but on his way Tarried till nigh the middle of the day In talk with certain of the city-folk; Whereby he learned, if that were true they spoke,
How that the king their lord was nigh distract With torture of a strange disease that racked Each day his anguished body more and more, Setting at naught the leeches and their lore.
Which having heard he went before the king, Who sat upon his throne, delivering Judgment, his body pierced the while with pain. And taking from his neck the charmèd chain
Which he had borne about him ever since That morn miraculous, the unknown Prince Upspake and said, “O king, I hold within My hand a wonder-working medicine
Of power to make thee whole if thou wilt deign So to be healèd;” and he held the chain Aloft, and straightway told unto the king The passing worth and wonder of the thing.
Then he that heard stretched forth a hand that shook With sudden fever of half-hope, and took The chain, and turned it over in his hand Until his eyes had left no link unscanned.
And on each separate link was character'd A language that no living ear had heard, Occult, of secret import, mystic, strange. Then said the king, “What would'st thou in exchange
For this the magic metal thou dost bring?” And the Prince answered him and said, “O king, Even the emerald stone which some do call The Emerald of the Virtues Mystical.”
And they who thronged the hall of judgment were Astonished at the stranger who could dare Ask such a boon; and some base mouths did curl With sneers, churl whispering to his fellow churl,
“Who could have deemed the man so covetous, So void of shame in his great greed?” For thus It shall be ever underneath the sun, Each man believing that high hearts are none
Whose own is as the dust he treads on low. But the king answered saying, “Be it so. To-night this chain of iron shall be worn About my neck, and on the morrow-morn,
If all the pain have left these limbs of mine, The guerdon thou demandest shall be thine. But if this torment still tormenteth me, Thy head and shoulders shall part company,
And both be cast uncoffin'd to the worms. Open thy mouth and answer if these terms Content thee.” And aloud the Prince replied, “With these conditions I am satisfied:”
Whereafter, rising from his knees, he went Out from before the king, and was content. Next morning, when the king awoke, I wis No heart was lighter in the land than his;
For all the grievous burden of his pains Had fall'n from off his limbs, and in his veins Upleapt the glad new life, and the sick soul Seemed like its body all at once made whole.
But hardly was the king uprisen before There knock'd and entered at the chamber-door His chief physician ( a right skilful leech, But given to hollow trickeries of speech,
And artful ways and wiles ) who said, “O king, Be not deceived, I pray thee. One good thing Comes of another, like from like. The weed Beareth not lilies, neither do apes breed
Antelopes. Thou art healed of thy pain Not by the wearing of an iron chain — An iron chain forsooth!” — ( hereat he laughed As‘ twere a huge rare jest ) “but by the draught
Which I prepared for thee with mine own hands From certain precious simples grown in lands It irks me tell how many leagues away: Which medicine thou tookest yesterday.”
Then said the king, “O false and jealous man, Who lovest better thine own praises than Thy master's welfare! Little‘ tis to such As thou, that I should be made whole; but much
That men should go before thee, trumpeting “‘ Behold the man that cured our lord the king.’” And he was sore displeased and in no mood To hearken. But the chief physician stood
Unmoved amid this hail of kingly scorn, With meek face martyr-like, as who hath borne Much in the name of Truth, and much can bear. And from the mouth of him false words and fair
So cunningly flowed that in a little while The royal frown became a royal smile, And the king hearkened to the leech and was Persuaded. So that morn it came to pass
That when the Prince appeared before the throne To claim his rightful meed, the emerald stone, The king denied his title to receive The jewel, saying, “Think'st thou I believe
Yon jingling chain hath healed my body? Nay; For whatsoever such as thou may say I am not found so easy to beguile: As for the gem thou wouldest, this good while
It hath adorned the crown I wear, nor shall The stone be parted from the coronal.” Scarce had the false king spoken when behold Through the high ceiling's goodly fretted gold
A sudden shaft of lightning downward sped And smote the golden crown upon his head, Yea, melted ev'n as wax the golden crown. And from the molten metal there fell down
A grassgreen Splendour, and the Emerald Stone Tumbled from step to step before the throne, And lay all moveless at the Prince's feet! And the king sat upon his royal seat
A dead king, marble-mute: but no man stirred Or spake: and only silence might be heard. Then he before whose feet the gem did lie Said not a word to any man thereby,
But stooped and lifted it from off the floor, And passing outward from the open door Put the mysterious jewel in his breast And went his way, none daring to molest
The stranger. For the whisper rose and ran, “Is not the lightning leaguèd with this man?”
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