Children’s Stories, Oscar Wilde [the mitten read aloud .txt] 📗

And his Soul that was within him called out to him and said, “Lo! I have dwelt with thee for all these years, and have been thy servant. Send me not away from thee now, for what evil have I done thee?”

And the young Fisherman laughed. “Thou hast done me no evil, but I have no need of thee,” he answered. “The world is wide, and there is Heaven also, and Hell, and that dim twilight house that lies between. Go wherever thou wilt, but trouble me not, for my love is calling to me.”

And his Soul besought him piteously, but he heeded it not, but leapt from crag to crag, being surefooted as a wild goat, and at last he reached the level ground and the yellow shore of the sea.

Bronze-limbed and well-knit, like a statue wrought by a Grecian, he stood on the sand with his back to the moon, and out of the foam came white arms that beckoned to him, and out of the waves rose dim forms that did him homage. Before him lay his shadow, which was the body of his soul, and behind him hung the moon in the honey-coloured air.

And his Soul said to him, “If indeed thou must drive me from thee, send me not forth without a heart. The world is cruel, give me thy heart to take with me.”

He tossed his head and smiled. “With what should I love my love if I gave thee my heart?” he cried.

“Nay, but be merciful,” said his Soul: “give me thy heart, for the world is very cruel, and I am afraid.”

“My heart is my love’s,” he answered, “therefore tarry not, but get thee gone.”

“Should I not love also?” asked his Soul.

“Get thee gone, for I have no need of thee,” cried the young Fisherman, and he took the little knife with its handle of green viper’s skin, and cut away his shadow from around his feet, and it rose up and stood before him, and looked at him, and it was even as himself.

He crept back, and thrust the knife into his belt, and a feeling of awe came over him. “Get thee gone,” he murmured, “and let me see thy face no more.”

“Nay, but we must meet again,” said the Soul. Its voice was low and flute-like, and its lips hardly moved while it spake.

“How shall we meet?” cried the young Fisherman. “Thou wilt not follow me into the depths of the sea?”

“Once every year I will come to this place, and call to thee,” said the Soul. “It may be that thou wilt have need of me.”

“What need should I have of thee?” cried the young Fisherman, “but be it as thou wilt,” and he plunged into the waters and the Tritons blew their horns and the little Mermaid rose up to meet him, and put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth.

And the Soul stood on the lonely beach and watched them. And when they had sunk down into the sea, it went weeping away over the marshes.

And after a year was over the Soul came down to the shore of the sea and called to the young Fisherman, and he rose out of the deep, and said, “Why dost thou call to me?”

And the Soul answered, “Come nearer, that I may speak with thee, for I have seen marvellous things.”

So he came nearer, and couched in the shallow water, and leaned his head upon his hand and listened.

And the Soul said to him, “When I left thee I turned my face to the East and journeyed. From the East cometh everything that is wise. Six days I journeyed, and on the morning of the seventh day I came to a hill that is in the country of the Tartars. I sat down under the shade of a tamarisk tree to shelter myself from the sun. The land was dry and burnt up with the heat. The people went to and fro over the plain like flies crawling upon a disk of polished copper.

“When it was noon a cloud of red dust rose up from the flat rim of the land. When the Tartars saw it, they strung their painted bows, and having leapt upon their little horses they galloped to meet it. The women fled screaming to the wagons, and hid themselves behind the felt curtains.

“At twilight the Tartars returned, but five of them were missing, and of those that came back not a few had been wounded. They harnessed their horses to the wagons and drove hastily away. Three jackals came out of a cave and peered after them. Then they sniffed up the air with their nostrils, and trotted off in the opposite direction.

“When the moon rose I saw a campfire burning on the plain, and went towards it. A company of merchants were seated round it on carpets. Their camels were picketed behind them, and the negroes who were their servants were pitching tents of tanned skin upon the sand, and making a high wall of the prickly pear.

“As I came near them, the chief of the merchants rose up and drew his sword, and asked me my business.

“I answered that I was a Prince in my own land, and that I had escaped from the Tartars, who had sought to make me their slave. The chief smiled, and showed me five heads fixed upon long reeds of bamboo.

“Then he asked me who was the prophet of God, and I answered him Mohammed.

“When he heard the name of the false prophet, he bowed and took me by the hand, and placed me by his side. A negro brought me some mare’s milk in a wooden dish, and a piece of lamb’s flesh roasted.

“At daybreak we started on our journey. I rode on a red-haired camel by the side of the chief, and a runner ran before us carrying a spear. The men