Short Fiction, Leo Tolstoy [general ebook reader .txt] 📗

Vasilievich, with genuine annoyance.

“Well; and what about the love affair?”

“My love? It decreased from that day. When, as often happened, she looked dreamy and meditative, I instantly recollected the colonel on the parade ground, and I felt so awkward and uncomfortable that I began to see her less frequently. So my love came to naught. Yes; such chances arise, and they alter and direct a man’s whole life,” he said in summing up. “And you say⁠ ⁠…”

Esarhaddon, King of Assyria306

The Assyrian King, Esarhaddon, had conquered the kingdom of King Lailie, had destroyed and burnt the towns, taken all the inhabitants captive to his own country, slaughtered the warriors, beheaded some chieftains and impaled or flayed others, and had confined King Lailie himself in a cage.

As he lay on his bed one night, King Esarhaddon was thinking how he should execute Lailie, when suddenly he heard a rustling near his bed, and opening his eyes saw an old man with a long gray beard and mild eyes.

“You wish to execute Lailie?” asked the old man.

“Yes,” answered the King. “But I cannot make up my mind how to do it.”

“But you are Lailie,” said the old man.

“That’s not true,” replied the King. “Lailie is Lailie, and I am I.”

“You and Lailie are one,” said the old man. “You only imagine you are not Lailie, and that Lailie is not you.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the King. “Here am I, lying on a soft bed; around me are obedient men-slaves and women-slaves, and tomorrow I shall feast with my friends as I did today; whereas Lailie is sitting like a bird in a cage, and tomorrow he will be impaled, and with his tongue hanging out will struggle till he dies, and his body will be torn in pieces by dogs.”

“You cannot destroy his life,” said the old man.

“And how about the fourteen thousand warriors I killed, with whose bodies I built a mound?” said the King. “I am alive, but they no longer exist. Does not that prove that I can destroy life?”

“How do you know they no longer exist?”

“Because I no longer see them. And, above all, they were tormented, but I was not. It was ill for them, but well for me.”

“That, also, only seems so to you. You tortured yourself, but not them.”

“I do not understand,” said the King.

“Do you wish to understand?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then come here,” said the old man, pointing to a large font full of water.

The King rose and approached the font.

“Strip, and enter the font.”

Esarhaddon did as the old man bade him.

“As soon as I begin to pour this water over you,” said the old man, filling a pitcher with the water, “dip down your head.”

The old man tilted the pitcher over the King’s head, and the King bent his head till it was under water.

And as soon as King Esarhaddon was under the water, he felt that he was no longer Esarhaddon, but someone else. And, feeling himself to be that other man, he saw himself lying on a rich bed, beside a beautiful woman. He had never seen her before, but he knew she was his wife. The woman raised herself and said to him:

“Dear husband, Lailie! You were wearied by yesterday’s work and have slept longer than usual, and I have guarded your rest, and have not roused you. But now the Princes await you in the Great Hall. Dress and go out to them.”

And Esarhaddon⁠—understanding from these words that he was Lailie, and not feeling at all surprised at this, but only wondering that he did not know it before⁠—rose, dressed, and went into the Great Hall where the Princes awaited him.

The Princes greeted Lailie, their King, bowing to the ground, and then they rose, and at his word sat down before him; and the eldest of the Princes began to speak, saying that it was impossible longer to endure the insults of the wicked King Esarhaddon, and that they must make war on him. But Lailie disagreed, and gave orders that envoys shall be sent to remonstrate with King Esarhaddon; and he dismissed the Princes from the audience. Afterwards he appointed men of note to act as ambassadors, and impressed on them what they were to say to King Esarhaddon. Having finished this business, Esarhaddon⁠—feeling himself to be Lailie⁠—rode out to hunt wild asses. The hunt was successful. He killed two wild asses himself, and, having returned home, feasted with his friends, and witnessed a dance of slave girls. The next day he went to the Court, where he was awaited by petitioners, suitors, and prisoners brought for trial; and there as usual he decided the cases submitted to him. Having finished this business, he again rode out to his favourite amusement: the hunt. And again he was successful: this time killing with his own hand an old lioness, and capturing her two cubs. After the hunt he again feasted with his friends, and was entertained with music and dances, and the night he spent with the wife whom he loved.

So, dividing his time between kingly duties and pleasures, he lived for days and weeks, awaiting the return of the ambassadors he had sent to that King Esarhaddon who used to be himself. Not till a month had passed did the ambassadors return, and they returned with their noses and ears cut off.

King Esarhaddon had ordered them to tell Lailie that what had been done to them⁠—the ambassadors⁠—would be done to King Lailie himself also, unless he sent immediately a tribute of silver, gold, and cypress-wood, and came himself to pay homage to King Esarhaddon.

Lailie, formerly Esarhaddon, again assembled the Princes, and took counsel with them as to what he should do. They all with one accord said that war must be made against Esarhaddon, without waiting for him to attack them. The King agreed; and taking his place at the head of the army, started on the campaign. The campaign