The Proud King
When the proud king rode into the enemy's city, his red beard flamed in the rising sun, like the gleaming swords of his retinue. And when the proud king saw that Death held the city in his embrace, and that all the bricks of the houses were dead, and the slightest breeze could blow the buildings into dust, he laughed. And he turned his thick-set head to view his retainers who jadedly and dully dragged after themselves an exhausted victory .
And the king ordered the youngest males of the city to come to meet him with bread and salt. Presently ten old men with long gray beards approached the king and fell upon their knees: " Proud king, we are the youngest males of the city, and we have no bread, for there has been a bread famine since all the last twelvemonth. Our lean arms, our dried palates bear witness thereto; a pinch of salt we have brought — only a pinch of salt we have brought. "
Again the proud king looked back upon his fellows, who could scarcely stand upon their feet, dragging along an exhausted victory. The King ordered: " Let your most beautiful women come to meet my warriors — let them strew flowers before the advent of our victory. " In weeping array the young women with grey heads walked barefoot and strewed withered petals. And the first four women bowed to the proud king and spake thus: " The breath of Death has dried up all our springs — like the roots of our hair — and our skies turned unto stone. How could we quench the flowers' thirst with empty jugs? " And the oldest male rose from the ground and spake thus: " Proud King, do not heed my bent head and my unsure tread. It is age that put a staff into my hand and bent my head. Age will also cover thy haughty head with ashes and command thee go in beggarly fashion. " The proud king realized that presently his ire ought to flame forth like his ruddy beard. But he was not aroused. His eyes merely glanced over the withered petals that the young women had strewn before the advance of his victory .
And one of the young women tore off the rags from her. Her nudity wept as she spake thus: " Proud King, behold! my limbs that knew of man now hang in shame, for the yearning within me for the father of my child consumed all my femininity. So may the womb of thy wife be barren forever. " Once more the proud king understood that he ought to unleash his rage like a savage young ox. But he did not. His eyes kept roaming over the withered petals which the young women scattered before the tread of his victory .
A sinister fear enveloped all the houses. Frightened children called their mothers through the casements. From the churches there came the weeping of the pious pews for the young fathers of the city. The blind dozing belfry ringer awoke, his parchmentlike hands beseeching the bells as usual to toll forth the approaching vesper hour, but the mute tongue of the bell rang out a death knell — a death knell .
The sun had shrunk. A torrent came on. The rain drenched alike the heads of the allies and the heads of the enemy. The ten old men turned their backs upon the king and started for the church. And the haughty king still saw how in weeping array the young women with grey heads walked barefoot and strewed withered petals before the advance of his victory.
And the king ordered the youngest males of the city to come to meet him with bread and salt. Presently ten old men with long gray beards approached the king and fell upon their knees: " Proud king, we are the youngest males of the city, and we have no bread, for there has been a bread famine since all the last twelvemonth. Our lean arms, our dried palates bear witness thereto; a pinch of salt we have brought — only a pinch of salt we have brought. "
Again the proud king looked back upon his fellows, who could scarcely stand upon their feet, dragging along an exhausted victory. The King ordered: " Let your most beautiful women come to meet my warriors — let them strew flowers before the advent of our victory. " In weeping array the young women with grey heads walked barefoot and strewed withered petals. And the first four women bowed to the proud king and spake thus: " The breath of Death has dried up all our springs — like the roots of our hair — and our skies turned unto stone. How could we quench the flowers' thirst with empty jugs? " And the oldest male rose from the ground and spake thus: " Proud King, do not heed my bent head and my unsure tread. It is age that put a staff into my hand and bent my head. Age will also cover thy haughty head with ashes and command thee go in beggarly fashion. " The proud king realized that presently his ire ought to flame forth like his ruddy beard. But he was not aroused. His eyes merely glanced over the withered petals that the young women had strewn before the advance of his victory .
And one of the young women tore off the rags from her. Her nudity wept as she spake thus: " Proud King, behold! my limbs that knew of man now hang in shame, for the yearning within me for the father of my child consumed all my femininity. So may the womb of thy wife be barren forever. " Once more the proud king understood that he ought to unleash his rage like a savage young ox. But he did not. His eyes kept roaming over the withered petals which the young women scattered before the tread of his victory .
A sinister fear enveloped all the houses. Frightened children called their mothers through the casements. From the churches there came the weeping of the pious pews for the young fathers of the city. The blind dozing belfry ringer awoke, his parchmentlike hands beseeching the bells as usual to toll forth the approaching vesper hour, but the mute tongue of the bell rang out a death knell — a death knell .
The sun had shrunk. A torrent came on. The rain drenched alike the heads of the allies and the heads of the enemy. The ten old men turned their backs upon the king and started for the church. And the haughty king still saw how in weeping array the young women with grey heads walked barefoot and strewed withered petals before the advance of his victory.
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