At length, one day, a venerable man of a noble presence was brought to
the tower, with soldiers to guard him and slaves to attend him. The
prince was glad of his presence, though at first he seldom opened his
lips, and it was manifest that confinement made him miserable. With
restless feet he would wander from window to window of the stone tower,
and mount from story to story; but mount as high as he would there was
still nothing to be seen but the vast, unvarying plain, clothed with
scanty grass, and flooded with the glaring sunshine; flocks and herds
and shepherds moved across it sometimes, but nothing else, not even a
shadow, for there was no cloud in the sky to cast one. The old man,
however, always treated the prince with respect, and answered his
questions with a great deal of patience, till at length he found a
pleasure in satisfying his curiosity, which so much pleased the poor
young prisoner, that, as a great condescension, he invited him to come
out on the roof of the tower and drink sherbet with him in the cool of
the evening, and tell him of the country beyond the desert, and what
seas are like, and mountains, and towns.
"I have learnt much from my attendants, and know this world pretty well
by hearsay," said the prince, as they reclined on the rich carpet which
was spread on the roof.
The old man smiled, but did not answer; perhaps because he did not care
to undeceive his young companion, perhaps because so many slaves were
present, some of whom were serving them with fruit, and others burning
rich odors on a little chafing-dish that stood between them.
"But there are some words to which I never could attach any particular
meaning," proceeded the prince, as the slaves began to retire, "and
three in particular that my attendants cannot satisfy me upon, or are
reluctant to do so."
"What words are those, my prince?" asked the old man. The prince turned
on his elbow to be sure that the last slave had descended the tower
stairs, then replied:
"O man of much knowledge, the words are these--Labor, and Liberty, and
Gold."
"Prince," said the old man, "I do not wonder that it has been hard to
make thee understand the first, the nature of it, and the cause why most
men are born to it; as for the second, it would be treason for thee and
me to do more than whisper it here, and sigh for it when none are
listening; but the third need hardly puzzle thee; thy hookah[4] is
bright with it; all thy jewels are set in it; gold is inlaid in the
ivory of thy bath; thy cup and thy dish are of gold, and golden threads
are wrought into thy raiment."
[Footnote 4: _Hookah_: a kind of pipe for smoking tobacco, used in
Eastern Europe and Asia.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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