Classic Audiobook Collection - The Fisherman and His Soul by Oscar Wilde ~ Full Audiobook [fantasy]

Episode Date: March 9, 2023

The Fisherman and His Soul by Oscar Wilde audiobook. Genre: fantasy To get what we want is often the greatest curse of all. The fisherman here accidentally catches a mermaid in his net. He falls in love with the Mermaid and tells her that he wants to marry her. She tells him that he can only marry her if he sends away his soul. From a Witch, the Fisherman learns how to send his soul away. The Soul makes several attempts to persuade the Fisherman to take him back, eventually convincing him to do so with the tale of a beautiful dancer who lives nearby. Too late does the Fisherman discover that the soul which he sent out into the world without a heart has become evil. So be careful what you set your heart on. This story was first published in 1896 in the book A House of Pomegranates For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:32:11) Chapter 02 (01:04:23) Chapter 03 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

the fisherman and his soul by oscar wilde part one to her serene highness alice princess of monaco every evening the young fisherman went out upon the sea and threw his nets into the water when the wind blew from the land he caught nothing or but little at best for it was bitter and a black-wained wind and rough waves rose up to meet it but when the wind blew to the shore the fish came in from the deep and swam into the meshes of his nets and he took them to the market-place and sold them every evening he went out upon the sea and one evening the net was so heavy that hardly could he draw it into the boat and he laughed and said to himself surely i have caught all the fish that swim or snared some dull monster that will be a marvel to men, or something of horror that the great queen will desire. And putting forth all his strength, he tugged at the coarse ropes still, like lines of blue enamel round a vase of bronze.

The long veins rose up on his arms. He tugged at the thin ropes, and nearer and nearer came the circle of flat corks, and the net rose at last to the top of the water. But no fish at all was in it, nor any monster or thing of horror, but only a little mermaid lying fast asleep. Her hair was as a wet fleece of gold, and each separate hair as a thread of fine gold in a cup of glass. Her body was as white ivory, and her tail was of silver and pearl.

silver and pearl was her tail and the green weeds of the sea coiled round it and like sea-shells were her ears and her lips were like sea-coral The cold waves dashed over her cold breasts, and the salt glistened upon her eyelids. So beautiful was she that when the young fisherman saw her he was filled with wonder, and he put out his hand and drew the net close to him, and, leaning over the side, he clasped her in his arms. And when he touched her she gave a cry like a startled seagull and woke, and looked at him in terror with her maw of amethyst eyes, and struggled that she might escape. But he held her tightly to him, and would not suffer her to depart. And when she saw that she could in no way escape from him, she began to weep and said,

I pray thee let me go, for I am the only daughter of a king, and my father is aged and alone. But the young fisherman answered, I will not let them. thee go, save thou makest me a promise, that whenever I call thee thou will come and sing to me, for the fish delight to listen to the song of the seafoke, and so shall my nets be full. Will thou in very truth let me go, if I promise thee this? cried the mermaid. In very truth I will let thee go, said the young fisherman. So she made him the promise he desired, and swear to you.

it by the oath of the seafoke. And he loosened his arms from about her, and she sank down into the water, trembling with a strange fear. Every evening the young fisherman went out upon the sea and called to the mermaid, and she rose out of the water and sang to him. Round and round her swam the dolphins, and the wild gulls wheeled above her head. And she sang a marvelous song, for she sang of the seafoke who drive their flocks from cave to cave, and carry the little calves on their shoulders, of the tritons who have long

green beards and hairy breasts, and blow through twisted conks when the king passes by. Of the palace of the king, which is all of amber with a roof of clear emerald, and a pavement of bright pearl, and of the gardens of the sea where the great filigraine fans of coral wave all day long, and the fish dart about like silver birds, and the anemones cling to the rocks, and the pinks burgeon in the ribbed yellow sand. She sang of the big whales that come down from the North Seas and have sharp icicles hanging to their fins. Of the sirens who tell of such wonderful things that the merchants have to stop their ears

with wax, thus they should hear them, and leap into the water and be drowned. Of the sunken galleys with their tall masts, and the frozen sailors clinging to the rigging, and the mackerel swimming in and out of the open port-holes. Of the little barnacles who are great travellers, and cling to the keels of the ships and go round and round the world, and of the cuttle-fish who live in the sides of the cliffs, and stretch out their long black arms, and can make night come when they will it. She sang of the Nautilus who has a boat of her own that is carved out of an opal, and steered with a silken sail.

Of the happy merman who play upon harps, and can charm the great crackin to sleep. of the little children who catch hold of the slippery porpoises and ride laughing upon their backs, of the mermaids who lie in the white foam and hold out their arms to the mariners, and of the sea lions with their curved tusks, and the seahorses with their floating manes. And as she sang, all the tunny fish came in from the deep to listen to her, and the young fisherman threw his nets round them and caught them, and others he took with a spear. And when his boat was well laden, the mermaid was sank down into the sea, smiling at him.

Yet would she never come near him that he might touch her. Oftentimes he called to her and prayed of her, but she would not. And when he sought to seize her she dived into the water as a seal might dive. Nor did he see her again that day. And each day the sound of her voice became sweeter to his ears. So sweet was her voice that he forgot his nets and his cunning and had no care of his craft. Vermillion finned and with eyes of bossy gold. The tunnies went by in shoals, but he heeded them not.

His spear lay by his side unused, and his baskets of plated osier were empty. With lips parted, and eyes dim with wonder, he sat idle in his boat and listened. listening till the sea-mists crept round him, and the wandering moon stained his brown limbs with silver. And one evening he called to her and said, Little mermaid! Little mermaid, I love thee. Take me for thy bridegroom, for I love thee.

But the mermaid shook her head. Thou hast a human soul, she answered. If only thou wouldst send away thy soul, then. could I love thee?" And the young fisherman said to himself, "'Of what use is my soul to me? I cannot see it. I may not touch it.

I do not know it. Surely I will send it away from me, and much gladness shall be mine.' And a cry of joy broke from his lips, and, standing up in the painted boat, he held out his arms to the mermaid. "'I will send my soul away,' he cried. and you shall be my bride and i will be thy bridegroom and in the depths of the sea we will dwell together and all that thou hast sung of thou shalt show me and all that thou desirest i will do nor shall our lives be divided and the little mermaid laughed for pleasure and hid her face in her hands but how shall i send my soul from me cried the young fisherman tell me how i may do it and lo it shall be done alas i know not said the little mermaid the sea-folk have no souls and she sank down into the deep looking wistfully at him

now early on the next morning before the sun was the span of a man's hand above the hill the young fisherman went to the house of the priest and knocked three times at the door the novice looked out through the wicket and the when he saw who it was, he drew back the latch and said to him, Enter. And the young fisherman passed in, and knelt down on the sweet-smelling rushes of the floor, and cried to the priest who was reading out of the holy book, and said to him, Father, I am in love with one of the seafoke, and my soul hindereth me from having my desire. Tell me how I can send my soul away from me, for in truth I have no need of it. of what value is my soul to me i cannot see it i may not touch it i do not know it and the priest beat his breast and answered

alack thou art mad or hast eaten of some poisonous herb for the soul is the noblest part of man and was given to us by god that we should nobly use it there is no thing more precious than a human soul nor any earthly thing that can be weighed with it it is worth all the gold that is in the world and is more precious than the rubies of the kings Therefore, my son, think not any more of this matter, for it is a sin that may not be forgiven. And as for the seafoke, they are lost, and they who would traffic with them are lost also. They are the beasts of the fields that know not good from evil, and for them the Lord has not died. The young fisherman's eyes filled with tears when he heard the bitter words of the priest, and he rose up from his knees and said to him, Father, the fauns live in the forest and are glad,

and on the rocks sit the merman with their harps of red gold. Let me be as they are, I beseech thee, for their days are as the days of flowers. And as for my soul, What doth my soul profit me if it stand between me and the thing that I love? The love of the body is vile, cried the priest, knitting his brows. And vile and evil are the pagan things God suffers to wonder through his world.

A cursed be the fauns of the woodland, and a cursed be the singers of the seal. I have heard them at night-time, and they have sought to lure me from my beads. They tap at the window and laugh. They whisper into my ears the tale of their perilous joys. They tempt me with temptations. and when I would pray they make mouths at me. They are lost, I tell thee, they are lost. For them there is no heaven nor hell,

and in neither shall they praise God's name. Father, cried the young fisherman, Thou knowest not what thou sayest. Once in my net I snared the daughter of a king. She is fairer than the morning star, and whiter than the moon. For her body I would give my soul, and for her love I would surrender heaven. Tell me what I ask of thee, and let me go in peace.

Away, away, cried the priest. Thy leman is lost, and thou shalt be lost with her. And he gave him no blessing, but drove him from his door. And the young fisherman went down into the marketplace, and he walked slowly and with bowed head as one who is in sorrow. And when the merchants saw him coming, they began to whisper to each other, and one of them came forth to meet him, and called him by name, and said to him, What hast thou to sell? I will sell thee my soul, he answered. I pray thee, buy it of me, for I am weary of it.

Of what use is my soul to me? I cannot see it. I may not touch it. I do not know it. But the merchants mocked at him and said, Of what use is a man's soul to us? It is not worth a clipped piece of silver. Sell us thy body for a slave, and we will clothe thee in sea-purple, and put a ring upon thy finger, and make thee the minion of the great queen. But talk not of the soul, for to us it is naught, nor has it any value for our service. And the young fisherman said to himself,

How strange a thing this is! the priest telleth me that the soul is worth all the gold in the world, and the merchants say that it is not worth a clipped piece of silver. And he passed out of the marketplace and went down to the shore of the sea, and began to ponder on what he should do. And at noon he remembered how one of his companions, who was a gatherer of sapphire, had told him of a certain young witch who dwelt in a cave at the head of the bay, and was very cunning in her witcheries. And he set to and ran, so eager was he to get rid of his soul,

and a cloud of dust followed him as he sped round the sand of the shore. By the itching of her palm, the young witch knew his coming, and she laughed and let down her red hair. With her red hair falling around her, she stood at the opening of the cave, and in her hand she had a spray of wild hemlock that was blossoming. "'What do you lack? What do you lack?' she cried as he came panting up the steep and bent down before her. "'Fish for thy net when the wind is foul. I have a little reed pipe, and when I blow on it the mullet comes sailing into the bay. But it has a price, pretty boy, it has a price. What do you lack? What do you lack?' a storm to wreck the ships and wash the chests of rich treasure ashore i have more storms than the wind has for i serve one who is stronger than the wind and with a sieve and a pail of water i can send the great galleys to the bottom of the sea

but i have a price pretty boy i have a price what do you lack what do you lack i know a flower that grows in the valley none knows it but I. It has purple leaves and a star in its heart, and its juice is as white as milk. Should thou touch with this flower, the hard lips of the queen, she would follow thee all over the world. Out of the bed of the king she would rise, and over the whole world she would follow thee. And it has a price, pretty boy, it has a price. What do you lack?

What do you lack? i can pound a toad in a mortar and make broth of it and stir the broth with a dead man's hand sprinkle it on thine enemy while he sleeps and he will turn into a black viper and his own mother will slay him with a wheel i can draw the moon from heaven and in a crystal i can show thee death what do you lack what do you lack tell me thy desire and i will give it to thee and thou shalt pay me a price pretty boy thou shalt pay me a price My desire is but for a little thing, said the young fisherman. Yet hath the priest been wroth with me and driven me forth. It is but for a little thing, and the merchants have mocked at me and denied me. Therefore am I come to thee, though men call thee evil. And whatever be thy price, I shall pay it.

What wouldst thou? asked the witch, coming near to him. I would send my soul away from me, answered the young fisherman. The witch grew pale and shuddered and hid her face in her blue mantle. Pretty boy, pretty boy, she muttered. That is a terrible thing to do. He tossed his brown curls and laughed. My soul is naught to me, he answered. I cannot see it.

I may not touch it. I do not. know it. What wilt thou give me if I tell thee?" asked the witch, looking down at him with her beautiful eyes. Five pieces of gold, he said, and my nets and the wattled house where I live, and the painted boat in which I sail. Only tell me how to get rid of my soul, and I shall give thee all that I possess."

She laughed mockingly at him, and struck him with the spray of Himlock. "'I can turn the autumn leaves into gold,' she answered, "'and I can weave the pale moonbeams into silver if I will it. He whom I serve is richer than all the kings of this world and has their dominions.' "'What then shall I give thee?' he cried, "'if thy price be neither gold nor silver.' The witch stroked his hair with her thin white hand. "'Thou must dance.

with me, pretty boy," she murmured, and she smiled at him as she spoke. "'Not but that!' cried the young fisherman in wonder as he rose to his feet. "'Not but that,' she answered, and she smiled at him again. "'Then at sunset in some secret place we shall dance together,' he said, "'and after that we have danced, thou shalt tell me the thing which I desire to know.' she shook her head when the moon is full when the moon is full she muttered then she peered all round and listened a blue bird rose screaming from its nest and circled over the dunes and three spotted birds rustled through the coarse gray grass and whistled to each other there was no other sound save the sound of a wave fretting the smooth pebbles below. So she reached out her hand and drew him near to her, and put her dry lips

close to his ear. "'To-night thou must come to the top of the mountain,' she whispered. "'It is a Sabbath, and he will be there.' The young fisherman started and looked at her, and she showed her white teeth and laughed. Who is he of whom thou speaketh? he asked. It matters not, she answered. Go thou to-night and stand under the branches of the hornbeam and wait for my coming. If a black dog run towards thee, strike it with a rod of willow, and it will go away.

If an owl speak to thee, make no answer. When the moon is full, I shall be with thee, and we will dance together on the grass. But wilt thou swear to me to tell me how I may send my soul from me? He made a question. She moved out into the sunlight, and through her red hair rippled the wind. By the hoofs of the goat, I swear, she made answer. Thou art the best of the witches, cried the young fisherman, and I will surely dance with thee to-night on the top of the mountain.

i would indeed that thou hast asked me of either gold or silver but such as thy price is thou shalt have it for it is but a little thing and he doffed his cap to her and bent his head low and ran back to the town filled with a great joy and the witch watched him as he went. And, when he had passed from her sight, she entered her cave, and, having taken a mirror from a box of carved cedarwood, she set it up on a frame, and burned verven on lighted charcoal before it, and peered through the coils of smoke. And after a time she clenched her hands in anger. "'He should have been mine,' she muttered. "'I am as fair as she is.'

and that evening when the moon had risen the young fisherman climbed up to the top of the mountain and stood under the branches of the hornbeam like a targe of polished metal the round sea laid his feet and the shadows of the fishing-boats moved in the little bay A great owl with yellow sulfurous eyes called to him by his name, but he made no answer. A black dog ran towards him and snarled. He struck it with a rod of willow, and it went away whining. At midnight the witches came flying through the air like bats. Pugh! they cried as they lit upon the ground. There is someone here we know not. And they sniffed about and chattered to each other and made.

made signs. Last of all came the young witch, with her red hair streaming in the wind. She wore a dress of gold tissue, embroidered with peacock's eyes, and a little cap of green velvet was on her head. "'Where is he? Where is he?' shrieked the witches when they saw her, but she only laughed, and ran to the hornbeam and taking the fisherman by the hand. She let him out into the moonlight and began to dance. Round and round they whirled, and the young witch jumped so high that he could see the scarlet heels of her shoes.

Then right across the dancers came the sound of the galloping of a horse, but no horse was to be seen, and he felt afraid. "'Faster!' cried the witch, and she threw her arms about his neck, and her breath was hot upon his face. Faster, faster, she cried, and the earth seemed to spin beneath his feet, and his brain grew troubled, and a great terror fell upon him, as of some evil thing that was watching him, and at last he became aware that under the shadow of a rock there was a figure that had not been there before.

It was a man dressed in a suit of black velvet, cut in the Spanish fashion. His face was strangely pale, but his lips were like a proud red flower. He seemed weary and was leaning back toying in a listless manner with the pommel of his dagger. On the grass beside him lay a plumed hat and a pair of riding gloves gauntleted with gilt lace and sewn with seed pearls wrought into a curious device. A short cloak lined with sables hung from his shoulder, and his delicate white hands were gemmed with rings. Heavy eyelids drooped over his eyes.

The young fisherman watched him as one snared in a spell. At last their eyes met, and wherever he danced it seemed to him that the eyes of the man were upon him. He heard the witch laugh and caught her by the waist, and whirled her madly round and round. Suddenly a dog bayed in the wood, and the dancer stopped, and, going up two by two, knelt down and kissed the man's hands. As they did so, a little smile touched his proud lips as a bird's wing touches the water and makes it laugh, but there was disdain in it.

He kept looking at the young fisherman. "'Come, let us worship,' whispered the witch, and And she let him up, and a great desire to do as she besought him seized on him, and he followed her. But when he came close, and without knowing why he did it, he made on his breast the sign of the cross and called upon the holy name. No sooner had he done so than the witches screamed like hawks and flew away, and the pallid face that had been watching him twitched with a spasm of pain. The man went over to a little wood and whistled. A genet with silver trappings came rushing to meet him. As he leapt upon the saddle he turned round and looked at the young fisherman sadly.

And the witch with the red hair tried to fly away also, but the fisherman caught her by her wrists and held her fast. Loose me, she cried and let me go, for thou hast named what should not be named and shown the sign that may not be looked at. "'Nay,' he answered, but I will not let thee go till thou hast told me the secret.' "'What secret?' said the witch, wrestling with him like a wild cat and biting her phone-flecked lips. "'Thou knowest,' he made answer. Her grass-green eyes grew dim with tears, and she said to the fisherman,

"'Ask me anything but that.' He laughed and held her all the more tightly. And when she saw that she could not free herself, she whispered to him, "'Surely I am as fair as the daughters of the sea, and as comely as those that dwell in the blue waters? And she fawned on him and put her face close to his. But he thrust her back frowning and said to her, "'If thou keepest not the promise that thou madeest to me, I will slay thee for a false witch.' She grew gray as a blossom of the Judas tree, and shuddered.

Be it so, she muttered. It is thy soul and not mine. Do with it as thou wilt. And she took from her girdle a little knife that had a handle of green viper's skin and gave it to him. What shall this serve me? he asked of her, wondering. She was silent for a few moments, and a look of her. of terror came over her face. Then she brushed her hair back from her forehead, and, smiling strangely, she said to him, What men call the shadow of the body is not the shadow of the body, but is the body of the soul. Stand on the seashore with thy back to the moon, and cut away from

around thy feet thy shadow, which is thy soul's body, and bid thy soul leave thee, and it will do so. The young fisherman trembled. Is this true? he murmured. It is true, and I would that I had not told the of it, she cried, and she clung to his knees weeping. He put her from him and left her in the rank grass, and going to the edge of the mountain, he placed the knife in his belt and began to climb down. 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 sure-footed 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 egregion, 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 farms 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-colored 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 loves, 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 his handle of green viper 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. end of part one part two of the fisherman and his soul by oscar wilde this laborvox recording is in the public domain part two 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 will 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. 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 marvelous things. So he came nearer and crouched 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 journey. From the east come with 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 plane and went towards it. A company of merchants were seated rounded 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 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, Muhammad. 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 little bit of the chief, and a piece of

a runner ran before us carrying a spear. The men of war were on either hand, and the mules followed with the merchandise. There were forty camels in the caravan, and the mules were twice forty in number. We went from the country of the Tartars into the country of those who cursed the moon. We saw the griffins guarding their gold on the white rocks, and scaled dragons sleeping in their caves. As we passed over the mountains, we held our breath, lest the snows might fall on us, and each man tied a veil of gauze before his eyes. As we passed through the valleys, the pygmy shot arrows at us from the hollows of the trees,

and at night we heard the wild men beating on their drums. When we came to the tower of apes we set fruits before them, and they did not harm us. When we came to the tower of serpents, we gave them warm milk in bowls of brass, and they let us go by. Three times in our journey we came to the banks of the oxus. We crossed it on rafts of wood with great bladders of blown hide. The river horses raged against us and sought to slay us. When the camels saw them, they trembled. The kings of each city levied tolls on us, but would not suffer us to enter their gates. They threw us bread over the walls, little maize cakes baked in honey, and cakes of fine flour filled with dates.

For every hundred baskets we gave them a bead of amber. When the dwellers of the villages saw us coming, they poisoned the wells and fled to the hill summits. We fought with the Magaday, who are born old and grow younger and younger each year, and die when they are little children. and with a lactroy who say that they are the sons of tigers, and paint themselves yellow and black, and with the Arentis who bury their debt on the tops of trees, and themselves live in dark caverns, lest the sun who is their god should slay them, and with the Cremians who worship a crocodile, and give it earrings of green glass, and feed it with butter and fresh fowls, and with the Aksonbe who are dog-faced, and with the Sibbans who have horses' feet, and run more swiftly

than horses. A third of our company died in battle, and a third died of want. The rest murmured against me and said that I had brought them an evil fortune. I took a horned adder from beneath a stone and let it sting me. When they saw that I did not sicken, they grew afraid. In the first of Fourth month we reached the city of Elel. It was night-time when we came to the grove that is outside the walls, and the air was sultry, for the moon was traveling in Scorpion. We took the ripe pomegranates from the trees and break them and drank their sweet juices. Then we lay down on our carpets and waited for the dawn. And at dawn we rose and knocked at the gate of the city. It was wrought out of red bronze. It was wrought

out of red bronze and carved with sea-dragons and dragons that have wings. The guards looked down from the battlements and asked us our business. The interpreter of the caravan answered that we had come from the island of Syria with much merchandise. They took hostages and told us that they would open the gate to us at noon and bade us tarry till then. When it was noon they opened the gate, and as we entered in, the people came cross. out of the houses to look at us, and a crier went round the city crying through a shell.

We stood in the market-place, and the negroes uncarded the bales of figured cloths and opened the carved chests of sycamore. And when they had ended their task, the merchants set forth their strange wares, the waxed linen from Egypt, and the painted linen from the country of the Ethiopes, the purple sponges from Tyre, and the blue hangings from Sidon, the cups of cold amber and the fine vessels of glass, and the curious vessels of burnt clay. From the roof of a house a company of women watched us. One of them wore a mask of gilded leather. And on the first day the priests came and bartered with us, and on the second day came the nobles,

and on the third day came the craftsmen and the slaves. And this is their custom with all merchants as long as they tarry in the city. And we tarried for a moon, and when the moon was waning I wearied and wandered away through the streets of the city and came to the garden of its god. The priests in their yellow robes moved silently through the green trees, and on a pavement of black marble stood the rose-red house in which the god had his dwelling. doors were of powdered lacquer, and bulls and peacocks were wrought on them in raised and polished gold.

The tilted roof was of sea-green porcelain, and the jutting eaves were festooned with little bells. When the white doves flew past, they struck the bells with their wings and made them tinkle. In front of the temple was a pool of clear water paved with veined onyx. We lay down beside it, and with my pale fingers I touched the broad leaves. One of the priests came towards me and stood behind me. He had sandals on his feet, one of soft serpent's skin, and the other of birds' plumage. On his head was a mitre of black felt decorated with silver crescents.

Seven yellows were woven into his robe, and his frizzed hair was stained with antimony. For a little while he spake to me and asked me my desire. I told him that my desire was to see the God. The God is hunting, said the priest, looking strangely at me with his small, slanting eyes. Tell me in what forest and I will ride with him, I answered. He combed out the soft fringes of his tunic with his long pointed nails. The God is asleep, he murmured. Tell me on what couch and I will watch by him, I answered.

The god is at the feast, he cried. If the wine be sweet, I will drink it with him, and if it be bitter I will drink it with him also, was my answer. He bowed his head in wonder, and, taking me by the hand, he raised me up and led me into the temple. And in the first chamber I saw an idol seated on a throne of Jasper, boarded with the great orient pearls. It was carved out of ebony, and in stature was the stature of a man. On its forehead was a ruby, and thick oil dripped from his hair onto its thighs. Its feet were red with the blood of a newly slain kid, and its loyons girt with a copper belt that was studded with seven barrels.

And I said to the priest, is this the God? And he answered me, This is the God. Show me the God, I cried, or I will surely slay thee. And I touched his hand, and it became withered. And the priest besought me, saying,

Let my Lord heal his servant, and I will show him the God. So I breathed with my breath upon his hand, and it became whole again, And he trembled and led me into the second chamber. And I saw an idol standing on a lotus of jade hung with great emeralds. It was carved out of ivory, and in stature was twice the stature of a man. On its forehead was a chrysolite, and its breasts were smeared with myrrh and cinnamon. In one hand it held a crooked scepter of jade, and in the other a round crystal.

It wear buskins of brass, and its thick neck was circled with a circle of selenotites. And I said to the priest, Is this the God? And he answered me, This is the God. Show me the God, I cried, or I will surely slay thee, and I touched his eyes, and they became blind. And the priest besought me saying, Oh, let my Lord heal his servant, and I will wait.

show him the God. So I breathed with my breath upon his eyes, and the sight came back to them, and he trembled again, and led me into the third chamber, and lo there was no idol in it, nor image of any kind, but only a mirror of round metal set on an altar of stone. And I said to the priest, Where is the God? And he answered me, There is no God but this mirror that thou'er. seeest, for this is the mirror of wisdom. And it reflecteth all things that are in heaven and on earth, save only the face of him

who looketh into it. This it reflecteth not, so that he who looketh into it may be wise. Many other mirrors are there, but they are mirrors of opinion. This only is the mirror of wisdom. And they who possess this mirror know everything. Is there anything hidden from them? And they who possess it not have not wisdom. Therefore it is the God, and we worship it."

And I looked into the mirror, and it was even as he had said to me. And I did a strange thing, but what I did matters not, for in a valley that is but a day's journey from this place have I hidden the mirror of wisdom. Do but suffer me to enter into thee again and be thy servant. And thou shalt be wiser than all the wise men, and wisdom shall be thine. Suffer me to enter into thee, and none will be as wise as thou. But the young fisherman laughed. Love is better than wisdom, he cried, and the little mermaid loves me.

Nay, but there is nothing better than wisdom, said the soul. "'Love is better,' answered the young fisherman. And he plunged into the deep, and the soul went weeping away over the marshes. And after the second 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 a man,

I have seen marvelous things. So he came nearer, and crouched 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 south, and journeyed. From the south cometh everything that is precious. Six days I journeyed along the highways that lead to the city of Ashtar, along the dusty red died highways, by which the pilgrims are wont to go, did I journey.

And on the morning of the seventh day I lifted up my eyes and lo! The city lay at my feet, for it is in a valley. There are nine gates to this city, and in front of each gate stands a bronze horse that nays when the Bedouins come down from the mountains. The walls are cased with copper, and the watch-towers on the walls are roofed with brass. In every tower stands an archer with a bow in his hand. At sunrise he strikes with an arrow on a gong, and at sunset he blows through a horn of horn.

When I sought to enter the guard stopped me and asked me who I was. I made answer that I was a dervish, and on my way to the city of Mecca, where there was a great veil on which the Koran was embroidered in silver letters by the hands of the angels. They were filled with wonder and entreated me to pass in. Indeed, it is even as a bazaar. Surely thou shouldth have been with me.

Across the narrow streets the gay lanterns of paper fluttered like large butterflies. When the wind blows over the roofs, they rise and fall as painted bubbles do. In front of their booths sit the merchants on silken carpets. They have straight black beards. and their turbans are covered with golden sequins, and long strings of amber and carved peach-tones glide through their cool fingers. Some of them sell Galbanum and Nard, and curious perfumes from the islands of the Indian Sea, and the thick oil of red roses and myrrh and little nail-shaped clothes. When one stops to speak to them, they throw pinches of frankincense upon a charcoal brazier and make the air sweet.

I saw a Syrian who held in his hands a thin rod like a reed. Gray threads of smoke came from it, and its odor as it burned was as the odor of the pink almond in spring. Others sell silver bracelets embossed all over with creamy blue turquoise stones, and anklets of brass wire, fringed with little pearls, and tiger's claws set in gold, and the claw of that gilt cat, the leopard said in gold. gold also, and earrings of pierced emerald, and finger-rings of hollowed jade. From the tea-houses comes the sound of the guitar, and the opium-smokers with their white smiling

faces look out at the passers-by. Of a truth thou shouldst have been with me. The wine-sellers elbow their way through the crowd with great black skins on their shoulders. of them sell the wine of Shiraz, which is as sweet as honey. They serve it in little metal cups and strew rose leaves upon it. In the marketplace stand the fruit-sellers who sell all kinds of fruit, ripe figs with their bruised purple flesh, melons smelling of musk and yellow as topazes, citrons and rose-apples and clusters of white grapes, round red gold oranges, and oval lemons of green gold.

Once I saw an elephant go by, its trunk was painted with vermilion and turmeric, and over its ears it had a net of crimson silk cord. It stopped opposite one of the booths and began eating the oranges, and the man only laughed. Thou canst not think how strange a people they are. When they are glad they go to the bird-sellers and buy of them a caged bird, and set it free that their joy may be greater. And when they are sad, they scourge themselves with thorns that their sorrow may not grow less.

One evening I met some negroes carrying a heavy palanquin through the bazaar. It was made of gilded bamboo, and the poles were of vermilion lacquer studded with brass peacocks. Across the windows hung thin curtains of muslin embroidered with beetles' wings and with tiny seed pearls. and as it passed by, a pale-faced Circassian looked out and smiled at me. I followed behind, and the Negroes hurried their steps and scowled. But I did not care.

I felt the great curiosity come over me. At last they stopped at a square white house. There were no windows to it, only a little door like the door of a tomb. They set down the palanquin and knocked three times, with a copper hammer. An Armenian in a kaffetan of green leather peered through the wicket, and when he saw them he opened and spread a carpet on the ground, and the woman stepped out. As she went in she turned round and smiled at me again. I had never seen anyone so pale. When the moon rose I returned to the same place and sought for the house, but it was no longer there.

When I saw that, I knew who the woman was, and wherefore she had smiled at me. Certainly thou shouldst have been with me. On the feast of the new moon the young emperor came forth from his palace and went into the mosque to pray. His hair and beard were dyed with rose-leaves, and his cheeks were powdered with a fine gold dust. The palms of his feet and hands were yellow with saffersonal. On. At sunrise he went forth from his palace in a robe of silver, and at sunset he returned to it again in a robe of gold.

The people flung themselves on the ground and hid their faces, but I would not do so. I stood by the stall of a cellar of dates and waited. When the Emperor saw me, he raised his painted eyebrows and stopped. I stood quite still and made him no obeisance. The people marveled at my boldness and counseled me to flee from the city. I paid no heed to them, but went and sat with the cellars of strange gods, who by reason of their craft are abominated. When I told them what I had done, each of them gave me a god and prayed me to leave them.

That night, as I lay on a cushion in the tea-house that is in the street of pomegranates, The guards of the Emperor entered and led me to the palace. As I went in they closed each door behind me and put a chain across it. Inside was a great court with an arcade running all round. The walls were of white alabaster, set here and there with blue and green tiles. The pillars were of green marble, and the pavement of a kind of peach blossom marble. I had never seen anything like it before. As I passed across the court, two veiled women looked down from a balcony and cursed me.

The guards hastened on, and the butts of the lances rang upon the polished floor. They opened a gate of wrought ivory, and I found myself in a watered garden of seven terraces. It was planted with tulip cups and moonflowers and silver-studded aloes. Like a slim reed of crystal, a fountain hung in the dusky air. The cypress trees were like burnt-out torches. From one of them a nightingale was singing. At the end of the garden stood a little pavilion. As we approached it, two eunuchs came out to meet us.

Their fat body swayed as they walked, and they glanced curiously at me with their yellow-lid eyes. One of them drew aside the captain of the guard, and in a low voice, whispered to him. The other kept munching scented pastilles, which he took with an affected gesture out of an oval box of lilac enamel. After a few moments the captain of the guard dismissed the soldiers. They went back to the palace, the eunuchs following slowly behind and plucking the sweet mulberries from the trees as they passed. Once the elder of the two turned round and smiled at me with an evil smile. Then the captain of the guard motioned me towards the entrance of the pavilion.

I walked on without trembling, and drawing the heavy curtain aside, I entered in. The young emperor was stretched on a couch of dyed lion-skins, and a gerfalcon perched upon his wrist. Behind him stood a brass-turbanned Nubian, naked down to the waist, and with heavy earrings in his split ears. On a table by the side of the couch lay a mighty scimitar of steel. When the emperor saw me, he frowned and said to me, What is thy name? Knowest thou not that I am emperor of this city?

But I made him no answer. He pointed with his finger at the scimitar. and the Nubian seized it, and rushing forward struck at me with great violence. The blade whizzed through me, and did me no hurt. The man fell sprawling on the floor, and when he rose up his teeth chattered with terror, and he hit himself behind the couch. The emperor leapt to his feet, and taken a lance from a stand of arms, he threw it at me. I caught it in its flight, and break the shaft into two.

pieces. He shot at me with an arrow, but I held up my hands, and it stopped in midair. Then he drew a dagger from a belt of white leather and stabbed the Nubian in the throat, lest the slaves should tell of his dishonor. The man writhed like a trampled snake, and a red foam bubbled from his lips. As soon as he was dead the emperor turned to me, and when he had wiped away the bright sweat from his brow with a little napkin of purfold and purple silk, he said to me, "'Art thou a prophet that I may not harm thee, or the son of a prophet that I can do thee no harm?

I pray thee, leave my city to-night, for while thou art in it I am no longer its lord.' And I answered him, "'I will go for half of thy treasure. Give me half of thy treasure, and I will go away.' He took me by the hand and led me out into the garden. When the captain of the guards saw me, he wondered. When the eunuchs saw me, their knees shook and they fell upon the ground in fear. There is a chamber in the palace that has eight walls of red porphyry, and a brass-sealed ceiling hung with lamps. The emperor touched one of the walls, and it opened, and we passed down a corridor that was lit with many torches.

In niches upon each side stood great wine jars filled to the brim with silver pieces. When we reached the center of the corridor, the emperor spake the word that may not be spoken, and a granite door swung back on a secret spring, and he put his hands before his face, lest his eyes should be dazzled. Thou couldst not believe how marvelous a place it was. There were huge tortoise shells full of pearls, and hollowed moonstones of great size piled up with red rubies. The gold was stored in coffers of elephant-hide, and the gold dust in leather bottles.

There were opals and sapphires, the farmer in cups of crystal, and the latter in cups of jade. Round green emeralds were ranged in order upon thin plates of ivory, and in one corner was bags filled, some with tartar stones and others with barrels. The ivory horns were heaped with purple amethysts, and the horns of brass with calcedonies and sards. The pillars, which were of cedar, were hung with strings of yellow lynx stones. In the flat oval shields there were carbuncles, both wine-colored and colored like grass, and yet I have told thee but a tithe of what was there.

and when the emperor had taken away his hands from before his face he said to me this is my house of treasure and half that is in it is thine even as i promised to thee and i will give three camels and camel-drivers and they shall do thy bidding and take thy share of the treasure to whatever part of the world thou desireth to go and the thing shall be done to-night for i would not that the son who is my father should see that there is in my city a man whom I cannot slay. But I answered him, The gold that is here is thine, and the silver also is thine, And thine are the precious jewels and the things of price. As for me, I have no need of these. Nor shall I take aught from thee but that little ring that thou wearest on the finger of thy hand.

And the emperor frowned. it is but a ring of lead he cried nor has it any value therefore take thy half of the treasure and go from my city nay i answered but i will take naught but that leaden ring for i know what is written within it and for what purpose and the emperor trembled and besought me and said take all the treasure and go from my city the half that is mine shall be thine also And I did a strange thing, but what I did matters not, for in a cave that is but a day's journey from this place have I hidden the ring of riches. It is but a day's journey from this place, and it waits for thy coming. He who has this ring is richer than all the kings of the world. Come therefore and take it, and the world's riches shall be thine."

But the young fisherman laughed. love is better than riches he cried and the little mermaid loves me nay but there is nothing better than riches said the soul love is better answered the young fisherman and he plunged into the deep and the soul went weeping away over the marshes end of part two part three of the fisherman and his soul by oscar wilde this libri vaux recording is in the public domain. And after the third 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 marvelous things. So he came nearer and crouched in the shallow water, and leaned his head upon his hand,

and listened. And the soul said to him, In a city that I know of, there is an inn that standeth by a river. I sat there with sailors who drank of two different colored wines, and ate bread made of barley, and little saltfishes served in bay leaves with vinegar. And as we sat and made merry,

there entered to us an old man bearing a leathern carpet and a lute that had two horns of amber. And when he had laid out the carpet on the floor, he struck with a quill on the wire-strings of his lute, and a girl whose face was veiled ran in and began to dance before us. Her face was veiled with a veil of gauze, but her feet were naked. Naked were her feet, and they moved over the carpet like little white pigeons. Never have I seen anything so marvelous. the city in which she dances is but a day's journey from this place.

Now, when the young fisherman heard the words of his soul, he remembered that the little mermaid had no feet and could not dance. And a great desire came over him, and he said to himself, It is but a day's journey, and I can return to my love. And he laughed and stood up in the shallow water, and strode towards the shore. and when he had reached the dry shore he laughed again and held out his arms to his soul and his soul gave a great cry of joy and ran to meet him and entered into him and the young fisherman saw stretched before him upon the sand that shadow of the body that is the body of the soul and his soul said to him let us not tarry but get hints at once for the sea-gods are jealous that have monsters that do their bidding.

So they made haste, and all that night they journeyed beneath the moon, and all the next day they journeyed beneath the sun, and on the evening of the day they came to a city. And the young fisherman said to his soul, Is this the city in which she dances of whom thou didst speak to me? And his soul answered him, It is not this city but another. nevertheless let us enter in. So they entered in and passed through the streets,

and as they passed through the street of the jewelers, the young fisherman saw a fair silver cup set forth in a booth, and his soul said to him, Take that silver cup and hide it. So he took the cup and hid it in the fold of his tunic, and they went hurriedly out of the city. and after that they had gone a leave from the city, the young fisherman frowned and flung the cup away and said to his soul,

Why didst thou tell me to take this cup and hide it? For it was an evil thing to do. But his soul answered him, Be at peace, be at peace. And on the evening of the second day they came to a city, and the young fisherman said to his soul, Is this the city in which she danced? of whom thou didst speak to me?

And Dissaule answered him, It is not this city but another. Nevertheless, let us enter in. So they entered in and passed through the streets. And as they passed through the street of the cellars of sandals, the young fisherman saw a child standing by a jar of water. And Dissau said to him, Smite that child.

So he smote the child. till it wept. And when he had done this, they went hurriedly out of the city. And after that they had gone a leave from the city, the young fisherman grew wroth and said to his soul, Why didst thou tell me to smite the child, for it was an evil thing to do? But his soul answered him, Be at peace, be at peace. And on the evening of the third day they came to a city, and the young fisherman said to his soul, "'Is this the city in which she dances of whom thou didst speak to me?' And his soul answered him,

"'It may be that it is in this city, therefore let us enter in.' So they entered in and passed through the streets, but nowhere could the young fisherman find the river or the inn that stood by its side. And the people of the city looked curiously at him, and he grew afraid and said to his soul, Let us go hence, for she who dances with white feet is not here. But his soul answered, Nay, but let us tarry, for the night is dark,

and there will be robbers on the way. So he sat him down in the marketplace and rested, and after a time there went by a hooded merchant, who had a cloak of cloth of tartary, and bare a lantern of pierced horn at the end of a hand of, a jointed reed. And the merchant said to him, "'Why dost thou sit in the marketplace, seeing that the booths are closed and the bales corded?' And the young fisherman answered him, "'I can find no end in this city, nor have I any

kinsmen who might give me shelter.' "'Are we not all kinsmen?' said the merchant, and did not one god make us. "'Therefore come with me, for I have a guest-chamber.' so the young fisherman rose up and followed the merchant to his house and when he had passed through a garden of pomegranates and entered into the house the merchant brought him rose-water in a copper dish that he might wash his hands and ripe melons that he might quench his thirst and set a bowl of rice and a piece of roasted kid before him and after that he had finished the merchant led him to the guest chamber and bade him sleep and be at rest and the young fisherman gave him thanks and kissed the ring that was on his hand and flung himself down on the carpets of dyed goat's hair and when he had covered himself with a covering of black lamb's wool he fell asleep and three hours before dawn and while it was still night his soul wakened him and said to him rise up and go to the room of the merchant even to the room in which he sleepeth and slay him and take from him his gold, for we have need of it.

And the young fisherman rose up and crept towards the room of the merchant, and over the feet of the merchant there was lying a curved sword, and the tray by the side of the merchant held nine purses of gold. And he reached out his hand and touched the sword, and when he touched it the merchant started and awoke, and leaping up seized himself the sword, and cried to the young fisherman, Dost thou return evil for good, and pay with the shedding of blood for the kindness that I have shown thee?

And his soul said to the young fisherman, Strike him! And he struck him so that he swooned, and he seized then the nine purses of gold, and fled hastily through the garden of pomegranates, and set his face to the star that is the star of mourning. And when they had gone a league from the city, the young fisherman beat him. his breast and said to his soul, "'Why didst thou bid me slay the merchant and take his gold?

Surely thou wert evil.' But his soul answered him, "'Be at peace, be at peace.' "'Nay,' cried the young fisherman, "'I may not be at peace, for all that thou hast made me do I hate. "'The also I hate, and I bid thee tell me wherefore thou hast wrought with me in this wise.' And his soul answered him, When thou didst send me forth into the world,

Thou gavest me no heart. So I learned to do all these things and love them. What sayest thou? murmured the young fisherman. Thou knowest, answered his soul. Thou knowest it well. Hast thou forgotten that thou gavest me no heart? I trow not.

And so trouble not. thyself nor me but be at peace for there is no pain that thou shalt not give away nor any pleasure that thou shalt not receive and when the young fisherman heard these words he trembled and said to his soul nay but thou art evil and has made me forget my love and has tempted me with temptations and has set my feet in the ways of sin and his The soul answered him, Thou hast not forgotten that when thou didst send me forth into the world, thou gavest me no heart.

Come, let us go to another city, and make merry, for we have nine purses of gold. But the young fisherman took the nine purses of gold, and flung them down, and trampled on them. Nay, he cried, but I will have not to do with thee. nor will I journey with thee anywhere. But even as I sent thee away before, so will I send thee away now, for thou hast wrought me no good. And he turned his back to the moon, and with the little knife that had the handle of green viper's skin, he strove to cut from his feet that shadow of the body which is the body of the soul. Yet his soul stirred not from him, nor paid he to his command.

but said to him, The spell that the witch told thee avails thee no more, For I may not leave thee, nor mayest thou drive me forth. Once in his life may a man send his soul away, But he who receiveth back his soul must keep it with him forever, And this is his punishment and his reward. And the young fisherman grew pale and clenched his hands and cried, She was a false witch in that she told me not that.

Nay, answered his soul, but she was true to him she worships, and whose servant she will be ever. And when the young fisherman knew that he could no longer get rid of his soul, and that it was an evil soul and would abide with him always, he fell upon the ground weeping bitterly. And when it was day the young fisherman rose up and said to his soul, I will bind my hands that I may not do thy bidding, and close my lips that I may not speak thy words, and I will return to the place where she whom I love has her dwelling.

Even to the sea will I return, and to the little bay where she is wont to sing, and I will call to her and tell her the evil I have done, and the evil thou hast wrought on me. And his soul tempted him and said, Who isst thy love that thou shouldst return to her? The world has many fairer than she is. There are dancing girls of Samaras who dance in the manner of all kinds of birds and beasts. Their feet are painted with Hanna, and in their hands they have little copper bells.

They laugh while they dance, and their laughter is as clear as the laughter of water. Come with me, and I will show them to thee. For what is this trouble of thine about the things of sin? Is that which is pleasant to eat not made for the eater? Is there poison in that which is sweet to drink? Trouble not thyself become with me to another city. There is a little city hard by, in which there is a garden of tulip trees. and there dwell in this comely garden white peacocks, and peacocks that have blue breasts.

Their tails, when they spread them to the sun, are like discs of ivory and like gilt discs. And she who feeds them dances for their pleasure, and sometimes she dances on her hands, and at other times she dances with her feet. Her eyes are colored like stibium, and her nostrils are shaped like the wings of a swallow. From a hook in one of her nostrils hangs a flower that is carved out of a pearl. She laughs while she dances, and the silver rings that are about her ankles tinkle like bells of silver. And so trouble not thyself any more, but come with me to this city. But the young fisherman answered not his soul.

He closed his lips with the seal of silence, and with a tight cord bound his hands, and journeyed back to the place from which he had come, even to the little bay where his love had been wanted to sing. And ever did his soul tempt him, by the way, but he made it no answer, nor would he do any of the wickedness that it sought to make him to do. So great was the power of the love that was within him. And when he had reached the shore of the sea,

he loosened the cord from his hands and took the seal of silence from his lips, and called to the little mermaid. But she came not to his call, though he called to her all day long and besought her. And his soul mocked him and said, Surely thou hast but little joy out of thy love. Thou art as one who in time of death pours water into a broken vessel. Thou givest away what thou hast, and naught is given to thee. in return.

It were better for thee to come with me, for I know where the valley of pleasure lies, and what things are wrought there. But the young fisherman answered not his soul, but in a cleft of the rock he built himself a house of wottles, and abode there for the space of a year, 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 caves and in the green water in the pools of the tide and in the wells that are at the bottom of the deep 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 another world's pain, and it may be that thou wiltarken, For of a truth, pain is the lord of this world, nor is there anyone 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 fins go the lepers, and they are cruel to each other. The beggars go up and down on the highways, and their wallace are empty. through the streets of the cities walk 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 should have set this high store upon it? But the young fisherman answered it not, 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 gray. And after the second year was over, the soul said to the young fisherman at nighttime, and as he sat in the wattle 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 into thy heart, that I may be one with thee even as before, for. "'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. And as he spake there came a great cry of mourning from the sea, even the cry that men hear when one of the seafoke is dead.

And the young fisherman leapt up and left his wattled house and ran down to the shore. And the black waves came hurrying to the shore, bearing with them a burden that was whiter than silver. White as the surf it was, and like a flower it tossed on the waves. and the surf took it from the waves and the foam took it from the surf and the shore received it and lying at his feet the young fisherman saw the body of the little mermaid dead at his feet was it lying weeping as one smitten with pain he flung himself down beside it and he kissed the cold red of the mouth and toyed with the wet ember of the hair he flung himself down beside it and he kissed the cold red of the mouth and toyed with the wet ember of the hair he flung himself down beside it on the the sand, weeping as one trembling with joy, and in his brown arms he held it to his breast. Cold were the lips, yet he kissed them. Salt was the honey of the hair, yet he tasted it with a bitter joy. He kissed the closed eyelids, and the wild spray that lay upon their cups was less salt

than his tears. And to the dead thing he made confession. Into the shell, of its ears he poured the harsh wine of his tail. He put the little hands round his neck, and with his fingers he touched the thin reed of the throat. Bitter, bitter was his joy, and full of strange gladness was his pain. The black sea came nearer, and the white foam moaned like a leper. With white claws of foam the sea grabbed at the shore. From the palace of the sea king came the cry of the sea of the sea-king, came the cry of

morning again, and far out upon the sea the great tritons blew hoarsely upon their horns. "'Flee away,' said his soul, "'forever doth the sea come nigher, and if thou tarriest, will slay thee. Flee away, for I am afraid, seeing that thy heart is closed against me by reason of the greatness of thy love. Flea away to a place of safety. thou wilt not send me without a heart into another world. But the young fisherman listened not to his soul,

but called on the little mermaid and said, Love is better than wisdom, and more precious than riches, and fairer than the feet of the daughters of men. The fires cannot destroy it, nor can the waters quench it. I called upon thee at dawn, and thou didst not come to my call. The moon heard thy name, yet hast thou no heed of me. For evilly had I left thee, and to my own hurt had I wondered away. Yet ever did thy love abide with me, and never was it strong, nor did it ought prevail

against it, though I have looked upon evil and looked upon good. And now that thou are dead, surely, I will die with thee also. and his soul besought him to depart, but he could not. So great was his love. And the sea came nearer and sought to cover him with his waves, and when he knew that the end was at hand, he kissed with mad lips the cold lips of the mermaid, and the heart that was within him break.

And as though the fullness of his love his heart did break, the soul found an entrance and entered in, and was one with him even as before. And the sea covered the young fisherman with its waves. And in the morning the priest went forth to bless the sea, for it had been troubled. And with him went the monks and the musicians and the candle-bearers and the swingers of censors and a great company. And when the priest reached the shore, he saw the young, fisherman lying drowned in the surf, and clasp in his arms was the body of the little mermaid.

And he drew back frowning, and having made the sign of the cross, he cried aloud and said, I will not bless the sea, nor anything that is in it. A curse to be the seafoke, and a curse be all they who traffic with them. And as for him who for love's sake forsook God, and so lieth here with his leman slain by God's judgment, take up his body and the soul of his leman, and bury them in the corner of the field of the fullers, and set no mark above them, nor a sign of any kind, that none may know the place of their resting, for a curse they were in their lives, and a curse they shall be in their deaths also. And the people did as he commanded them, and in the corner of the field of fullers, where no sweet herbs grew, and,

they dug a deep pit and laid the dead things within it. And when the third year was over, and on a day that was a holy day, the priest went up to the chapel that he might show to the people the wounds of the Lord and speak to them about the wrath of God. And when he had robed himself with his robes, and entered in and bowed himself before the altar, he saw that the altar was covered with strange flowers that never had been seen before.

Strange were they to look at, and of curious beauty, and their beauty troubled him, and their odor was sweet in his nostrils, and he felt glad and understood not why he was glad. And after that he had opened the tabernacle and incensed the monstrance that was in it, and shone the fair wafer to the people,

and hid it again behind the veil of veils. He began to speak to the, the people, desiring to speak to them of the wrath of God. But the beauty of the white flowers troubled him, and their odor was sweet in his nostrils. And there came another word into his lips. And he spake not of the wrath of God, but of the God whose name is love, and why he so spake he knew not. And when he had finished his word the people wept.

And the priest went back to the sacristy and his eyes. eyes were full of tears. And the deacons came in and began to unrobe him, and took from him the alb and the girdle, the mandible, and the stole. And he stood as one in a dream. And after that they had unrobed him, he looked at them and said, What are the flowers that stand on the altar, and whence do they come? And they answered him, What flowers they are we cannot tell, but they come from the altar. the corner of the Fuller's Field. And the priest trembled and returned to his own house

and prayed. And in the morning, while it was still dawn, he went forth with the monks and the musicians and the candle-bearers and the swingers of censors and a great company, and came to the shore of the sea, and blessed the sea, and all the wild things that are in it. The fauns also he blessed, and the little things that danced in the woodland, and the bright-eyed things that peer through the leaves. All the things in God's world, he blessed, and the people were filled with joy and wonder. Yet never again in the corner of the Fuller's field grew flowers of any kind, but the field remained barren even as before.

Nor came the seafoke into the bay as they had been wont to do, for they went to another part of the sea end of the fisherman and his soul by oscar wilde