V.

But meanwhile, the king's son, of whom our tale began to tell, never

departing from the palace prepared for him, attained to the age of

manhood. He had pursued all the learning of the Ethiopians and

Persians, and was as fair and well favoured in mind as in body,

intelligent and prudent, and shining in all excellencies. To his

teachers he would propound such questions of natural history that even

they marvelled at the boy's quickness and understanding, while the king

was astounded at the charm of his countenance and the disposition of

his soul. He charged the attendants of the young prince on no account

to make known unto him any of the annoys of life, least of all to tell

him that death ensueth on the pleasures of this world. But vain was

the hope whereon he stayed, and he was like the archer in the tale that

would shoot at the sky. For how could death have remained unknown to

any human creature? Nor did it to this boy; for his mind was fertile

of wit, and he would reason within himself, why his father had

condemned him never to go abroad, and had forbidden access to all. He

knew, without hearing it, that this was his father's express command.

Nevertheless he feared to ask him; it was not to be believed that his

father intended aught but his good; and again, if it were so by his

father's will, his father would not reveal the true reason, for all his

asking. Wherefore he determined to learn the secret from some other

source. There was one of his tutors nearer and dearer to him than the

rest, whose devotion he won even further by handsome gifts. To him he

put the question what his father might mean by thus enclosing him

within those walls, adding, "If thou wilt plainly tell me this, of all

thou shalt stand first in my favour, and I will make with thee a

covenant of everlasting friendship." The tutor, himself a prudent man,

knowing how bright and mature was the boy's wit and that he would not

betray him, to his peril, discovered to him the whole matter the

persecution of the Christians and especially of the anchorets decreed

by the king, and how they were driven forth and banished from the

country round about; also the prophecies of the astrologers at his

birth. "'Twas in order," said he, "that thou mightest never hear of

their teaching, and choose it before our religion, that the king hath

thus devised that none but a small company should dwell with thee, and

hath commanded us to acquaint thee with none of the woes of life."

When the young prince heard this he said never a word more, but the

word of salvation took hold of his heart, and the grace of the

Comforter began to open wide the eyes of his understanding, leading him

by the hand to the true God, as our tale in its course shall tell.

Now the king his father came oftentimes to see his boy, for he loved

him passing well. On a day his son said unto him, "There is something

that I long to learn from thee, my lord the king, by reason of which

continual grief and unceasing care consumeth my soul." His father was

grieved at heart at the very word, and said, "Tell me, darling child,

what is the sadness that constraineth thee, and straightway I will do

my diligence to turn it into gladness." The boy said, "What is the

reason of mine imprisonment here? Wily hast thou barred me within

walls and doors, never going forth and seen of none?" His father

replied, "Because I will not, my son, that thou shouldest behold

anything to embitter thy heart or mar thy happiness. I intend that

thou shalt spend all thy days in luxury unbroken, and in all manner joy

and pleasaunce." "But," said the son unto his father, "know well, Sir,

that thus I live not in joy and pleasaunce, but rather in affliction

and great straits, so that my very meat and drink seem distasteful unto

me and bitter. I yearn to see all that lieth without these gates. If

then thou wouldest not have me live in anguish of mind, bid me go

abroad as I desire, and let me rejoice my soul with sights hitherto

unseen by mine eyes."

Grieved was the king to hear these words, but, perceiving that to deny

this request would but increase his boy's pain and grief, he answered,

"My son, I will grant thee thy heart's desire." And immediately he

ordered that choice steeds, and an escort fit for a king, be made

ready, and gave him license to go abroad whensoever he would, charging

his companions to suffer nothing unpleasant to come in his way, but to

show him all that was beautiful and gladsome. He bade them muster in

the way troops of folk intuning melodies in every mode, and presenting

divers mimic shows, that these might occupy and delight his mind.

So thus it came to pass that the king's son often went abroad. One day,

through the negligence of his attendants, he descried two men, the one

maimed, and the other blind. In abhorrence of the sight, he cried to

his esquires, "Who are these, and what is this distressing spectacle?"

They, unable to conceal what he had with his own eyes seen, answered,

"These be human sufferings, which spring from corrupt matter, and from

a body full of evil humours." The young prince asked, "Are these the

fortune of all men?" They answered, "Not of all, but of those in whom

the principle of health is turned away by the badness of the humours."

Again the youth asked, "If then this is wont to happen not to all, but

only to some, can they be known on whom this terrible calamity shall

fall? or is it undefined and unforeseeable?" "What man," said they,

"can discern the future, and accurately ascertain it? This is beyond

human nature, and is reserved for the immortal gods alone." The young

prince ceased from his questioning, but his heart was grieved at the

sight that he had witnessed, and the form of his visage was changed by

the strangeness of the matter.

Not many days after, as he was again taking his walks abroad, he

happened with an old man, well stricken in years, shrivelled in

countenance, feeble-kneed, bent double, grey-haired, toothless, and

with broken utterance. The prince was seized with astonishment, and,

calling the old man near, desired to know the meaning of this strange

sight. His companions answered, "This man is now well advanced in

years, and his gradual decrease of strength, with increase of weakness,

hath brought him to the misery that thou seest." "And," said he, "what

will be his end?" They answered, "Naught but death will relieve him."

"But," said he, "is this the appointed doom of all mankind? Or doth it

happen only to some?" They answered, "Unless death come before hand to

remove him, no dweller on earth, but, as life advanceth, must make

trial of this lot." Then the young prince asked in how many years this

overtook a man, and whether the doom of death was without reprieve, and

whether there was no way to escape it, and avoid coming to such misery.

They answered him, "In eighty or an hundred years men arrive at this

old age, and then they die, since there is none other way; for death is

a debt due to nature, laid on man from the beginning, and its approach

is inexorable."

When our wise and sagacious young prince saw and heard all this, he

sighed from the bottom of his heart. "Bitter is this life," cried he,

"and fulfilled of all pain and anguish, if this be so. And how can a

body be careless in the expectation of an unknown death, whose approach

(ye say) is as uncertain as it is inexorable?" So he went away,

restlessly turning over all these things in his mind, pondering without

end, and ever calling up remembrances of death. Wherefore trouble and

despondency were his companions, and his grief knew no ease; for he

said to himself, "And is it true that death shall one day overtake me?

And who is he that shall make mention of me after death, when time

delivereth all things to forgetfulness? When dead, shall I dissolve

into nothingness? Or is there life beyond, and another world?" Ever

fretting over these and the like considerations, he waxed pale and

wasted away, but in the presence of his father, whenever he chanced to

come to him, he made as though he were cheerful and without trouble,

unwilling that his cares should come to his father's knowledge. But he

longed with an unrestrainable yearning, to meet with the man that might

accomplish his heart's desire, and fill his ears with the sound of good

tidings.

Again he enquired of the tutor of whom we have spoken, whether he knew

of anybody able to help him towards his desire, and to establish a

mind, dazed and shuddering at its cogitations, and unable to throw off

its burden. He, recollecting their former communications, said, "I

have told thee already how thy father hath dealt with the wise men and

anchorets who spend their lives in such philosophies. Some hath he

slain, and others he hath wrathfully persecuted, and I wot not whether

any of this sort be in this country side." Thereat the prince was

overwhelmed with woe, and grievously wounded in spirit. He was like

unto a man that hath lost a great treasure, whose whole heart is

occupied in seeking after it. Thenceforth he lived in perpetual

conflict and distress of mind, and all the pleasures and delights of

this world were in his eyes an abomination and a curse. While the

youth was in this way, and his soul was crying out to discover that

which is good, the eye that beholdeth all things looked upon him, and

he that willeth that 'all men should be saved, and come to the

knowledge of the truth,' passed him not by, but showed this man also

the tender love that he hath toward mankind, and made known upon him

the path whereon he needs must go. Befel it thus.