Children's stories, English; Fairy tales; Short stories, English
And ever did his Soul tempt him with evil, and whisper of terrible
things. Yet did it not prevail against him, so great was the power of
his love.
And after the year was over, the Soul thought within himself, ‘I have
tempted my master with evil, and his love is stronger than I am. I will
tempt him now with good, and it may be that he will come with me.’
So he spake to the young Fisherman and said, ‘I have told thee of the joy
of the world, and thou hast turned a deaf ear to me. Suffer me now to
tell thee of the world’s pain, and it may be that thou wilt hearken. For
of a truth pain is the Lord of this world, nor is there any one who
escapes from its net. There be some who lack raiment, and others who
lack bread. There be widows who sit in purple, and widows who sit in
rags. To and fro over the fens go the lepers, and they are cruel to each
other. The beggars go up and down on the highways, and their wallets are
empty. Through the streets of the cities walks Famine, and the Plague
sits at their gates. Come, let us go forth and mend these things, and
make them not to be. Wherefore shouldst thou tarry here calling to thy
love, seeing she comes not to thy call? And what is love, that thou
shouldst set this high store upon it?’
But the young Fisherman answered it nought, so great was the power of his
love. And every morning he called to the Mermaid, and every noon he
called to her again, and at night-time he spake her name. Yet never did
she rise out of the sea to meet him, nor in any place of the sea could he
find her, though he sought for her in the rivers of the sea, and in the
valleys that are under the waves, in the sea that the night makes purple,
and in the sea that the dawn leaves grey.
And after the second year was over, the Soul said to the young Fisherman
at night-time, and as he sat in the wattled house alone, ‘Lo! now I have
tempted thee with evil, and I have tempted thee with good, and thy love
is stronger than I am. Wherefore will I tempt thee no longer, but I pray
thee to suffer me to enter thy heart, that I may be one with thee even as
before.’
‘Surely thou mayest enter,’ said the young Fisherman, ‘for in the days
when with no heart thou didst go through the world thou must have much
suffered.’
‘Alas!’ cried his Soul, ‘I can find no place of entrance, so compassed
about with love is this heart of thine.’
‘Yet I would that I could help thee,’ said the young Fisherman.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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