There was once a king who was so wicked that he would not allow any
widows to live in his kingdom, because he was certain that they had
caused the death of their husbands; nor would he admit of any fat man or
woman, as he was afraid that they would eat up everything in the
kingdom.
He was also very proud and arrogant, and if any man happened to be
taller than himself, he would give him the choice of being lowered to a
proper height by either having his head or his legs cut off.
His subjects were so afraid of him and of his laws, that the married
women would not let their husbands go out of their sight, lest any harm
should happen to them, and if they turned at all pale, or had broken
sleep, or had lost their appetites, they would nurse them night and day.
So afraid were they of becoming widows that they always agreed with
their husbands on all points, lest by disagreeing they should bring
about an attack of indigestion, or something worse that might produce
death.
And when their children commenced to grow rapidly, their fears were
doubled lest they should become taller than the king; for if they fed
them on pudding, which does not promote growth, they incurred the danger
of their becoming fat; and if they fed them on meat, so as to make them
lean, they would probably grow tall.
It very soon became evident that there were more hunchbacks in that
country than in any other; for as soon as the children were approaching
the forbidden height, their parents would suspend heavy weights from
their shoulders, so that their backs became rounded and eventually
humped.
The young men, when they were at an age to marry, found it very
difficult to get any woman to have them, because they were afraid of
becoming widows, and also because so many of the men were humpbacked.
But, notwithstanding the king’s wickedness, it was admitted by the
married men that their condition had considerably improved.
There was a wide road made round the cities and towns, on which all who
were inclined to be stout, both men and women, would run until they were
out of breath, and jump over hurdles; and there were so many of these
people that the revenues of the Church commenced to suffer, owing to the
decreased demand for “bulls,” as they willingly imposed long fasts on
themselves.
Now, in the chief city of this country there was a very wise man, well
versed in the law and in concocting drugs, for he was the public
executioner and the chemist of the place. To him, therefore, went a
deputation of the people to lay their grievances before him; and after
the spokesman had finished what he had to say, the executioner looked
very wise, and, after considering awhile, he said—
“Our king’s predecessor was held to be just and generous because he
allowed every man to retain a fifth of his produce for the maintenance
of his family, and the tax he imposed on this fifth part was always
readily paid.” Here he touched the edge of his sharp axe and smiled; and
the deputation exclaimed—
“Quite right; so it was.”
“Now, the present king,” continued the wise man, again feeling the edge
of his axe, “has magnanimously increased your loyal tribute to him by
one part in a hundred of the produce of the land, and yet you are not
satisfied!”
“The king’s generosity we all feel,” said the deputation; “but, if we
may be allowed to express an opinion to you, sir, we would——”
“Certainly you may,” interrupted the man of drugs, running his hand
quickly over the axe—“certainly you may; why should you not?”
By this time the chief spokesman had got behind the others, and it was
very evident that the members of the deputation were becoming aware that
the logic of the executioner was too sharp for them.
Seeing that they were all silent, the executioner went on to say that
the king had, in his opinion, been extremely considerate; for he had, by
the law against widows, contributed to the happiness and long life of
the husbands; and, by enacting that no man should exceed a certain
height or stoutness, they had economized in many ways, for they ate
less, and their clothes would cost them less. In fact, he saw no reason
for dissatisfaction; but as they had come to him as a deputation, he
felt it to be his duty to place their supposed grievances before the
king, and he, the executioner, felt certain that the king would reply to
them in a suitable manner. And having said this he raised the axe to the
light to see that there was no notch on the edge, which caused the
deputation to tremble most violently, and to assure the executioner that
they were perfectly satisfied, and desired to withdraw.
The executioner, however, would not allow them to retire—for the
grievances of a people should not be withheld from the king’s ear; but
the members of the deputation became so frightened that they made their
escape through the windows as fast as they could. And when the king
heard all about it he remarked that “Folly had entered with dignity by
the door, and Wisdom had unceremoniously escaped through the window.”