THE YOUNG KING

All rare and costly materials had certainly a great fascination for him,

and in his eagerness to procure them he had sent away many merchants,

some to traffic for amber with the rough fisher-folk of the north seas,

some to Egypt to look for that curious green turquoise which is found

only in the tombs of kings, and is said to possess magical properties,

some to Persia for silken carpets and painted pottery, and others to

India to buy gauze and stained ivory, moonstones and bracelets of jade,

sandal-wood and blue enamel and shawls of fine wool.

But what had occupied him most was the robe he was to wear at his

coronation, the robe of tissued gold, and the ruby-studded crown, and the

sceptre with its rows and rings of pearls. Indeed, it was of this that

he was thinking to-night, as he lay back on his luxurious couch, watching

the great pinewood log that was burning itself out on the open hearth.

The designs, which were from the hands of the most famous artists of the

time, had been submitted to him many months before, and he had given

orders that the artificers were to toil night and day to carry them out,

and that the whole world was to be searched for jewels that would be

worthy of their work. He saw himself in fancy standing at the high altar

of the cathedral in the fair raiment of a King, and a smile played and

lingered about his boyish lips, and lit up with a bright lustre his dark

woodland eyes.

After some time he rose from his seat, and leaning against the carved

penthouse of the chimney, looked round at the dimly-lit room. The walls

were hung with rich tapestries representing the Triumph of Beauty. A

large press, inlaid with agate and lapis-lazuli, filled one corner, and

facing the window stood a curiously wrought cabinet with lacquer panels

of powdered and mosaiced gold, on which were placed some delicate goblets

of Venetian glass, and a cup of dark-veined onyx. Pale poppies were

broidered on the silk coverlet of the bed, as though they had fallen from

the tired hands of sleep, and tall reeds of fluted ivory bare up the

velvet canopy, from which great tufts of ostrich plumes sprang, like

white foam, to the pallid silver of the fretted ceiling. A laughing

Narcissus in green bronze held a polished mirror above its head. On the

table stood a flat bowl of amethyst.

Outside he could see the huge dome of the cathedral, looming like a

bubble over the shadowy houses, and the weary sentinels pacing up and

down on the misty terrace by the river. Far away, in an orchard, a

nightingale was singing. A faint perfume of jasmine came through the

open window. He brushed his brown curls back from his forehead, and

taking up a lute, let his fingers stray across the cords. His heavy

eyelids drooped, and a strange languor came over him. Never before had

he felt so keenly, or with such exquisite joy, the magic and the mystery

of beautiful things.

When midnight sounded from the clock-tower he touched a bell, and his

pages entered and disrobed him with much ceremony, pouring rose-water

over his hands, and strewing flowers on his pillow. A few moments after

that they had left the room, he fell asleep.--_The Young King_.

Selected Prose of Oscar Wilde · 第 30 / 76 题