And he looked in the mirror， and， seeing his own face， he gave a great cry and woke， and the bright sunlight was streaming into the room， and from the trees of the garden and pleasaunce the birds were singing.
And the Chamberlain and the high officers of State came in and made obeisance to him， and the pages brought him the robe of tissued gold， and set the crown and the sceptre before him.
And the young King looked at them， and they were beautiful. More beautiful were they than aught that he had ever seen. But he remembered his dreams， and he said to his lords： “Take these things away， for I will not wear them.”
And the courtiers were amazed， and some of them laughed， for they thought that he was jesting.
But he spake sternly to them again， and said： “Take these things away， and hide them from me. Though it be the day of my coronation， I will not wear them. For on the loom of Sorrow， and by the white hands of Pain， has this my robe been woven. There is Blood in the heart of the ruby， and Death in the heart of the pearl.”And he told them his three dreams.
And when the courtiers heard them they looked at each other and whispered， saying： “Surely he is mad; for what is a dream but a dream， and a vision but a vision? They are not real things that one should heed them. And what have we to do with the lives of those who toil for us? Shall a man not eat bread till he has seen the sower， nor drink wine till he has talked with the vinedresser?”
And the Chamberlain spake to the young King， and said， “My lord， I pray thee set aside these black thoughts of thine， and put on this fair robe， and set this crown upon thy head. For how shall the people know that thou art a king， if thou hast not a king’s raiment?”
And the young King looked at him. “Is it so， indeed?”he questioned. “Will they not know me for a king if I have not a king’s raiment?”
“They will not know thee， my lord， ” cried the Chamber-lain.
“I had thought that there had been men who were kinglike，” he answered， “but it may be as thou sayest. And yet I will not wear this robe， nor will I be crowned with this crown， but even as I came to the palace so will I go forth from it.”
And he bade them all leave him， save one page whom he kept as his companion， a lad a year younger than himself. Him he kept for his service， and when he had bathed himself in clear water， he opened a great painted chest， and from it he took the leathern tunic and rough sheepskin cloak that he had worn when he had watched on the hillside the shaggy goats of the goatherd. These he put on， and in his hand he took his rude shepherd’s staff.
And the little page opened his big blue eyes in wonder， and said smiling to him， “My lord， I see thy robe and thy sceptre， but where is thy crown?”
And the young King plucked a spray of wild briar that was climbing over the balcony， and bent it， and made a circlet of it， and set it on his own head.
“This shall he my crown，” he answered.
And thus attired he passed out of his chamber into the Great Hall， where the nobles were waiting for him.
And the nobles made merry， and some of them cried out to him， “My lord， the people wait for their king， and thou showest them a beggar，” and others were wroth and said， “He brings shame upon our state， and is unworthy to be our master.”But he answered them not a word， but passed on， and went down the bright porphyry staircase， and out through the gates of bronze， and mounted upon his horse， and rode towards the cathedral， the little page running beside him.
And the people laughed and said， “It is the King’s fool who is riding by，” and they mocked him.
And he drew rein and said，“Nay， but I am the King.” And he told them his three dreams.
And a man came out of the crowd and spake bitterly to him， and said，“Sir， knowest thou not that out of the luxury of the rich cometh the life of the poor? By your pomp we are nurtured， and your vices give us bread. To toil for a hard master is bitter， but to have no master to toil for is more bitter still. Thinkest thou that the ravens will feed us?And what cure hast thou for these things? Wilt thou say to the buyer， ‘Thou shalt buy for so much，’ and to the seller， ‘Thou shalt sell at this price?’ I trow not. Therefore go back to thy Palace and put on thy purple and fine linen. What hast thou to do with us， and what we suffer?”
“Are not the rich and the poor brothers?”asked the young King.
“Ay， ” answered the man， “and the name of the rich brother is Cain.”
And the young King’s eyes filled with tears， and he rode on through the murmurs of the people， and the little page grew afraid and left him.
And when he reached the great portal of the cathedral， the soldiers thrust their halberts out and said， “What dost thou seek here?None enters by this door but the King.”
And his face flushed with anger， and he said to them， “I am the King，” and waved their halberts aside and passed in.
And when the old Bishop saw him coming in his goatherd’s dress， he rose up in wonder from his throne， and went to meet him， and said to him， “My son， is this a king’s apparel? And with what crown shall I crown thee， and what sceptre shall I place in thy hand? Surely this should be to thee a day of joy， and not a day of abasement.”
“Shall Joy wear what Grief has fashioned?” said the young King. And he told him his three dreams.
And when the Bishop had heard them he knit his brows， and said， “My son， I am an old man， and in the winter of my days， and I know that many evil things are done in the wide world. The fierce robbers come down from the mountains， and carry off the little children， and sell them to the Moors. The lions lie in wait for the caravans， and leap upon the camels. The wild boar roots up the corn in the valley， and the foxes gnaw the vines upon the hill. The pirates lay waste the sea-coast and burn the ships of the fishermen， and take their nets from them. In the salt-marshes live the lepers;they have houses of wattled reeds， and none may come nigh them. The beggars wander through the cities， and eat their food with the dogs. Canst thou make these things not to be? Wilt thou take the leper for thy bedfellow， and set the beggar at thy board? Shall the lion do thy bidding， and the wild boar obey thee? Is not He who made misery wiser than thou art? Wherefore I praise thee not for this that thou hast done， but I bid thee ride back to the Palace and make thy face glad， and put on the raiment that beseemeth a king， and with the crown of gold I will crown thee， and the sceptre of pearl will I place in thy hand. And as for thy dreams， think no more of them. The burden of this world is too great for one man to bear， and the world’s sorrow too heavy for one heart to suffer. ”
“Sayest thou that in this house?”said the young King， and he strode past the Bishop， and climbed up the steps of the altar， and stood before the image of Christ.
He stood before the image of Christ， and on his right hand and on his left were the marvellous vessels of gold， the chalice with the yellow wine， and the vial with the holy oil. He knelt before the image of Christ， and the great candles burned brightly by the jewelled shrine， and the smoke of the incense curled in thin blue wreaths through the dome. He bowed his head in prayer， and the priests in their stiff copes crept away from the altar.
And suddenly a wild tumult came from the street outside， and in entered the nobles with drawn swords and nodding plumes， and shields of polished steel. “Where is this dreamer of dreams?” they cried. “Where is this King who is apparelled like a beggar—this boy who brings shame upon our state? Surely we will slay him， for he is unworthy to rule over us. ”
And the young King bowed his head again， and prayed， and when he had finished his prayer he rose up， and turning round he looked at them sadly.
And lo！ through the painted windows came the sunlight streaming upon him， and the sun-beams wove round him a tissued robe that was fairer than the robe that had been fashioned for his pleasure. The dead staff blossomed， and bare lilies that were whiter than pearls. The dry thorn blossomed， and bare roses that were redder than rubies. Whiter than fine pearls were the lilies， and their stems were of bright silver. Redder than male rubies were the roses， and their leaves were of beaten gold.
He stood there in the raiment of a king， and the gates of the jewelled shrine flew open， and from the crystal of the many-rayed monstrance shone a marvellous and mystical light. He stood there in a king’s raiment， and the Glory of God filled the place， and the saints in their carven niches seemed to move. In the fair raiment of a king he stood before them， and the organ pealed out its music， and the trumpeters blew upon their trumpets， and the singing boys sang.
And the people fell upon their knees in awe， and the nobles sheathed their swords and did homage， and the Bishop’s face grew pale， and his hands trembled. “A greater than I hath crowned thee，” he cried， and he knelt before him.
And the young King came down from the high altar， and passed home through the midst of the people. But no man dared look upon his face， for it was like the face of an angel.
★、The Star-Child
Once upon a time two poor Woodcutters were making their way home through a great pine-forest. It was winter， and a night of bitter cold. The snow lay thick upon the ground， and upon the branches of the trees： the frost kept snapping the little twigs on either side of them， as they passed： and when they came to the Mountain-Torrent she was hanging motionless in air， for the Ice-King had kissed her.
So cold was it that even the animals and the birds did not know what to make of it.
“Ugh！” snarled the Wolf， as he limped through the brushwood with his tail between his legs， “this is perfectly monstrous weather. Why doesn’t the Government look to it?”
“Weet！ weet！ weet！” twittered the green Linnets， “the old Earth is dead and they have laid her out in her white shroud.”
“The Earth is going to be married， and this is her bridal dress，” whispered the Turtle-doves to each other. Their little pink feet were quite frost-bitten， but they felt that it was their duty to take a romantic view of the situation.
“Nonsense！” growled the Wolf. “I tell you that it is all the fault of the Government， and if you don’t believe me I shall eat you.” The Wolf had a thoroughly practical mind， and was never at a loss for a good argument.
“Well， for my own part， ” said the Woodpecker， who was a born philosopher， “I don’t care an atomic theory for explan-ations. If a thing is so， it is so， and at present it is terribly cold.”
Terribly cold it certainly was. The little Squirrels， who lived inside the tall fir-tree， kept rubbing each other’s noses to keep themselves warm， and the Rabbits curled themselves up in their holes， and did not venture even to look out of doors. The only people who seemed to enjoy it were the great horned Owls. Their feathers were quite stiff with rime， but they did not mind， and they rolled their large yellow eyes， and called out to each other across the forest， “Tu-whit！ Tu-whoo！ Tu-whit！ Tu-whoo！ what delightful weather we are having！”
On and on went the two Woodcutters， blowing lustily upon their fingers， and stamping with their huge iron-shod boots upon the caked snow. Once they sank into a deep drift， and came out as white as millers are， when the stones are grinding; and once they slipped on the hard smooth ice where the marsh-water was frozen， and their faggots fell out of their bundles， and they had to pick them up and bind them together again; and once they thought that they had lost their way， and a great terror seized on them， for they knew that the Snow is cruel to those who sleep in her arms. But they put their trust in the good Saint Martin， who watches over all travellers， and retraced their steps， and went warily， and at last they reached the outskirts of the forest， and saw， far down in the valley beneath them， the lights of the village in which they dwelt.
So overjoyed were they at their deliverance that they laughed aloud， and the Earth seemed to them like a flower of silver， and the Moon like a flower of gold.
Yet， after that they had laughed they became sad， for they remembered their poverty， and one of them said to the other， “Why did we make merry， seeing that life is for the rich， and not for such as we are? Better that we had died of cold in the forest， or that some wild beast had fallen upon us and slain us.”
“Truly， ” answered his companion， “much is given to some， and little is given to others. Injustice has parcelled out the world， nor is there equal division of aught save of sorrow.”
But as they were bewailing their misery to each other this strange thing happened. There fell from heaven a very bright and beautiful star. It slipped down the side of the sky， passing by the other stars in its course， and， as they watched it wondering， it seemed to them to sink behind a clump of willow-trees that stood hard by a little sheepfold no more than a stone’s-throw away.
“Why！ there is a crook of gold for whoever finds it，”they cried， and they set to and ran， so eager were they for the gold.
And one of them ran faster than his mate， and outstripped him， and forced his way through the willows， and came out on the other side， and lo！ there was indeed a thing of gold lying on the white snow. So he hastened towards it， and stooping down placed his hands upon it， and it was a cloak of golden tissue， curiously wrought with stars， and wrapped in many folds. And he cried out to his comrade that he had found the treasure that had fallen from the sky， and when his comrade had come up， they sat them down in the snow， and loosened the folds of the cloak that they might divide the pieces of gold. But， alas！ no gold was in it， nor silver， nor， indeed， treasure of any kind， but only a little child who was asleep.
And one of them said to the other： “This is a bitter ending to our hope， nor have we any good fortune， for what doth a child profit to a man? Let us leave it here， and go our way， seeing that we are poor men， and have children of our own whose bread we may not give to another.”
But his companion answered him： “Nay， but it were an evil thing to leave the child to perish here in the snow， and though I am as poor as thou art， and have many mouths to feed， and but little in the pot， yet will I bring it home with me， and my wife shall have care of it.”
So very tenderly he took up the child， and wrapped the cloak around it to shield it from the harsh cold， and made his way down the hill to the village， his comrade marvelling much at his foolishness and softness of heart.
And when they came to the village， his comrade said to him， “Thou hast the child， therefore give me the cloak， for it is meet that we should share.”
But he answered him：“Nay， for the cloak is neither mine nor thine， but the child’s only，” and he bade him Godspeed， and went to his own house and knocked.
And when his wife opened the door and saw that her husband had returned safe to her， she put her arms round his neck and kissed him， and took from his back the bundle of faggots， and brushed the snow off his boots， and bade him come in.
