Many a year ago, in a land that was washed by the sea, there lived a
King who had an only son whom he loved very dearly.
Fertile gardens surrounded the palace. They extended for miles and
miles. In the distance the sapphire sea looked like a calm lake. The
gardens were rich in flowers, which bloomed all the year in this land of
perpetual summer. There were lilies and violets, hyacinths, carnations,
cyclamens, and orchids; but the rose was mistress of the land, and they
called it the "Rose Islands." The trees were filled with song-birds, and
the air was fragrant with perfume tempered by the sea.
If ever mortal man was framed for happiness, the Prince of the Rose
Islands was he--a youth of a gallant disposition, his golden hair
hanging from beneath his jewelled cap, his brown eyes half hidden by
their long lashes. His doublet was of white brocade, his hose and
pointed shoes of silk; he was the _beau ideal_ of a prince in form and
figure, and brave as he was amiable, two royal qualities.
The King, his father, observing that he appeared to be sad when it
seemed to him he should be most happy, asked Ulric what troubled him.
"I am lonely, so please your Grace, and I would fain have a friend."
"I am thy friend, sweet son. Have I done aught that should forfeit me
thy friendship?"
"My lord the King, I am always thine--thine in true obedience, thine in
the sight of God, thine in filial love, but not in friendship. Though I
dream of it night and day, I have never known friendship; sometimes,
indeed, I fear that it cannot exist," replied the Prince sadly.
"Nay, Ulric, in good sooth, thou art mistaken. Look about thee, in the
palace. The noble lords of our Court, the high-born pages who minister
to thy wants, are all thy humble and devoted friends."
"Father, prithee pardon me for my temerity in differing from thy
gracious word; but those of whom thou speakest are not my friends. They
know that I am all-powerful with thee. They are but fawning sycophants,
who feed upon thy bounty. If the sentiment they profess to cherish for
me be friendship, then indeed my dreams of the meaning of the word are
hollow, as hollow as is my life in this paradise of beauty."
The King laid his hand upon his son's head, and looked into his sad
face.
"My poor child," he said, "God knows I love thee better than myself. Art
thou not my successor to these fair islands? Tell me, what can a King do
for thy comfort?"
"Prithee, good my lord, send for the Lady Christabel, the daughter of
the great Earl, thy subject, and for Prince Winfred, the heir of that
land yonder, which reflects itself in our sea; let them live here for a
time, and help me to discover the meaning of that magic word
friendship."
The King gave orders that an escort should start at once to bring the
Lady Christabel to his palace. He also commanded that a ship should be
built, in which to fetch Prince Winfred of the Sea Islands.
Lady Christabel arrived in the evening of the next day. She was mounted
on a white steed, and was clad in a silken robe of opaline hue, her
cloak and cap jewelled with moonstones. Ulric stood on the steps of the
palace to receive her. She knelt and kissed his hand, and then looked
upwards into his face. He noted the abundance of her dark hair and the
strange beauty of her changing eyes, which were grey and blue by turn,
as were the hues of her silken gown.
"Welcome, sweet Christabel, to our palace," said the Prince. "Dost think
thou canst be happy here?"
"Ah, my dear lord, ask me if I could be happy in Paradise."
Ulric flushed with pleasure, and led her up the marble steps to the
King's audience chamber. As the doors unclosed a sweet melody floated on
the air, increased in volume for a brief space, then grew fainter and
died away. Christabel found herself in an immense room. The walls were
set with rubies, the floor was of rock crystal, strewn with pink and
white rose-leaves. In the centre of the hall, upon a dais covered with
cloth of gold, sat the King, in his robes of state. The ladies of the
Court, the lords and the pages, were clad in silks of various colours.
Prince Ulric led Christabel to the foot of the throne.
"Welcome to our Court, my child," said the King. "Our dear son is
lonely; wilt thou befriend him? Wilt thou teach him the solace of
friendship? Wilt thou prove to him that it is a reality and not a
dream?"
"Most gracious King," replied Christabel, "I will teach him all I know
of selfless, sacrificing, eternal friendship."
"It does exist, then?" asked the Prince eagerly.
"Do the stars exist, my good lord, or the sun or the roses?"
"The roses wither, sweet lady, even here, in paradise."
"But friendship, good my lord, is a deathless rose; its leaves are
immortal."