part06-第4节

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conversation。　He　turned　out　in　the　end　to　be　a　mere　smatterer；　who　did

but　skim　over　the　surface　of　things；　pretending　to　know　every　thing；

but　knowing　nothing　thoroughly。

　　These　were　the　only　feathered　associates　with　whom　the　prince　had

any　opportunity　of　exercising　his　newly　acquired　language；　the　tower

was　too　high　for　any　other　birds　to　frequent　it。　He　soon　grew　weary　of

his　new　acquaintances；　whose　conversation　spoke　so　little　to　the　head；

and　nothing　to　the　heart；　and　gradually　relapsed　into　his

loneliness。　A　winter　passed　away；　spring　opened　with　all　its　bloom　and

verdure　and　breathing　sweetness；　and　the　happy　time　arrived　for

birds　to　pair　and　build　their　nests。　Suddenly；　as　it　were；　a　universal

burst　of　song　and　melody　broke　forth　from　the　groves　and　gardens　of

the　Generalife；　and　reached　the　prince　in　the　solitude　of　his　tower。

From　every　side　he　heard　the　same　universal　theme…　love…　love…　love

chanted　forth；　and　responded　to　in　every　variety　of　note　and　tone。　The

prince　listened　in　silence　and　perplexity。　〃What　can　be　this　love；〃

thought　he；　〃of　which　the　world　seems　so　full；　and　of　which　I　know

nothing？〃　He　applied　for　information　to　his　friend　the　hawk。　The

ruffian　bird　answered　in　a　tone　of　scorn：　〃You　must　apply；〃　said　he；

〃to　the　vulgar　peaceable　birds　of　earth；　who　are　made　for　the　prey

of　us　princes　of　the　air。　My　trade　is　war；　and　fighting　my　delight。

I　am　a　warrior；　and　know　nothing　of　this　thing　called　love。〃

　　The　prince　turned　from　him　with　disgust；　and　sought　the　owl　in　his

retreat。　〃This　is　a　bird；〃　said　he；　〃of　peaceful　habits；　and　may　be

able　to　solve　my　question。〃　So　he　asked　the　owl　to　tell　him　what　was

this　love　about　which　all　the　birds　in　the　groves　below　were　singing。

　　Upon　this；　the　owl　put　on　a　look　of　offended　dignity。　〃My　nights；〃

said　he；　〃are　taken　up　in　study　and　research；　and　my　days　in

ruminating　in　my　cell　upon　all　that　I　have　learnt。　As　to　these　singing

birds　of　whom　you　talk；　I　never　listen　to　them…　I　despise　them　and

their　themes。　Allah　be　praised；　I　cannot　sing；　I　am　a　philosopher；　and

know　nothing　of　this　thing　called　love。〃

　　The　prince　now　repaired　to　the　vault；　where　his　friend　the　bat　was

hanging　by　the　heels；　and　propounded　the　same　question。　The　bat

wrinkled　up　his　nose　into　a　most　snappish　expression。　〃Why　do　you

disturb　me　in　my　morning's　nap　with　such　an　idle　question？〃　said　he；

peevishly。　〃I　only　fly　by　twilight；　when　all　birds　are　asleep；　and

never　trouble　myself　with　their　concerns。　I　am　neither　bird　nor　beast；

and　I　thank　heaven　for　it。　I　have　found　out　the　villany　of　the　whole

of　them；　and　hate　them　one　and　all。　In　a　word；　I　am　a　misanthrope…　and

know　nothing　of　this　thing　called　love。〃

　　As　a　last　resort；　the　prince　now　sought　the　swallow；　and　stopped　him

just　as　he　was　circling　about　the　summit　of　the　tower。　The　swallow；　as

usual；　was　in　a　prodigious　hurry；　and　had　scarce　time　to　make　a　reply。

〃Upon　my　word；〃　said　he；　〃I　have　so　much　public　business　to　attend　to；

and　so　many　pursuits　to　follow；　that　I　have　had　no　time　to　think　on

the　subject。　I　have　every　day　a　thousand　visits　to　pay；　a　thousand

affairs　of　importance　to　examine　into；　that　leave　me　not　a　moment　of

leisure　for　these　little　sing…song　matters。　In　a　word；　I　am　a

citizen　of　the　world…　I　know　nothing　of　this　thing　called　love。〃　So

saying；　the　swallow　dived　into　the　valley；　and　was　out　of　sight　in　a

moment。

　　The　prince　remained　disappointed　and　perplexed；　but　with　his

curiosity　still　more　piqued　by　the　difficulty　of　gratifying　it。

While　in　this　mood；　his　ancient　guardian　entered　the　tower。　The　prince

advanced　eagerly　to　meet　him。　〃O　Eben　Bonabben；〃　cried　he；　〃thou

hast　revealed　to　me　much　of　the　wisdom　of　the　earth；　but　there　is

one　thing　of　which　I　remain　in　utter　ignorance；　and　would　fain　be

informed。〃

　　〃My　prince　has　but　to　make　the　inquiry；　and　every　thing　within　the

limited　range　of　his　servant's　intellect　is　at　his　command。〃

　　〃Tell　me　then；　O　most　profound　of　sages；　what　is　the　nature　of

this　thing　called　love？〃

　　Eben　Bonabben　was　struck　as　with　a　thunderbolt。　He　trembled　and

turned　pale；　and　felt　as　if　his　head　sat　but　loosely　on　his　shoulders。

　　〃What　could　suggest　such　a　question　to　my　prince…　where　could　he

have　learnt　so　idle　a　word？〃

　　The　prince　led　him　to　the　window　of　the　tower。　〃Listen；　O　Eben

Bonabben；〃　said　he。　The　sage　listened。　The　nightingale　sat　in　a

thicket　below　the　tower；　singing　to　his　paramour　the　rose；　from

every　blossomed　spray　and　tufted　grove　rose　a　strain　of　melody；　and

love…　love…　love…　was　still　the　unvarying　strain。

　　〃Allah　Akbar！　God　is　great！〃　exclaimed　the　wise　Bonabben。　〃Who　shall

pretend　to　keep　this　secret　from　the　heart　of　man；　when　even　the　birds

of　the　air　conspire　to　betray　it？〃

　　Then　turning　to　Ahmed…　〃O　my　prince；〃　cried　he；　〃shut　thine　ears

to　these　seductive　strains。　Close　thy　mind　against　this　dangerous

knowledge。　Know　that　this　love　is　the　cause　of　half　the　ills　of

wretched　mortality。　It　is　this　which　produces　bitterness　and　strife

between　brethren　and　friends；　which　causes　treacherous　murder　and

desolating　war。　Care　and　sorrow；　weary　days　and　sleepless　nights；

are　its　attendants。　It　withers　the　bloom　and　blights　the　joys　of

youth；　and　brings　on　the　ills　and　griefs　of　premature　old　age。　Allah

preserve　thee；　my　prince；　in　total　ignorance　of　this　thing　called

love！〃

　　The　sage　Eben　Bonabben　hastily　retired；　leaving　the　prince　plunged

in　still　deeper　perplexity。　It　was　in　vain　he　attempted　to　dismiss　the

subject　from　his　mind；　it　still　continued　uppermost　in　his　thoughts；

and　teased　and　exhausted　him　with　vain　conjectures。　Surely；　said　he　to

himself；　as　he　listened　to　the　tuneful　strains　of　the　birds；　there

is　no　sorrow　in　those　notes；　every　thing　seems　tenderness　and　joy。

If　love　be　a　cause　of　such　wretchedness　and　strife；　why　are　not

these　birds　drooping　in　solitude；　or　tearing　each　other　in　pieces；

instead　of　fluttering　cheerfully　about　the　groves；　or　sporting　with

each　other　among　flowers？

　　He　lay　one　morning　on　his　couch　meditating　on　this　inexplicable

matter。　The　window　of　his　chamber　was　open　to　admit　the　soft　morning

breeze；　which　came　laden　with　the　perfume　of　orange　blossoms　from

the　valley　of　the　Darro。　The　voice　of　the　nightingale　was　faintly

heard；　still　chanting　the　wonted　theme。　As　the　prince　was　listening

and　sighing；　there　was　a　sudden　rushing　noise　in　the　air；　a

beautiful　dove；　pursued　by　a　hawk；　darted　in　at　the　window；　and　fell

panting　on　the　floor；　while　the　pursuer；　balked　of　his　prey；　soared

off　to　the　mountains。

　　The　prince　took　up　the　gasping　bird；　smoothed　its　feathers；　and

nestled　it　in　his　bosom。　When　he　had　soothed　it　by　his　caresses；　he

put　it　in　a　golden　cage；　and　offered　it；　with　his　own　hands；　the

whitest　and　finest　of　wheat　and　the　purest　of　water。　The　bird；

however；　refused　food；　and　sat　drooping　and　pining；　and　uttering

piteous　moans。

　　〃What　aileth　thee？〃　said　Ahmed。　〃Hast　thou　not　every　thing　thy　heart

can　wish？〃

　　〃Alas；　no！〃　replied　the　dove；　〃am　I　not　separated　from　the　partner

of　my　heart；　and　that　too　in　the　happy　spring…time；　the　very　season　of

love！〃

　　〃Of　love！〃　echoed　Ahmed；　〃I　pray　thee；　my　pretty　bird；　canst　thou

tell　me　what　is　love？〃

　　〃Too　well　can　I；　my　prince。　It　is　the　torment　of　one；　the　felicity

of　two；　the　strife　and　enmity　of　three。　It　is　a　charm　which　draws

two　beings　together；　and　unites　them　by　delicious　sympathies；　making

it　happiness　to　be　with　each　other；　but　misery　to　be　apart。　Is　there

no　being　to　whom　you　are　drawn　by　these　ties　of　tender　affection？〃

　　〃I　like　my　old　teacher　Eben　Bonabben　better　than　any　other　being；

but　he　is　often　tedious；　and　I　occasionally　feel　myself　happier

without　his　society。〃

　　〃That　is　not　the　sympathy　I　mean。　I　speak　of　love；　the　great　mystery

and　principle　of　life：　the　intoxicating　revel　of　youth；　the　sober

delight　of　age。　Look　forth；　my　prince；　and　behold　how　at　this　blest

season　all　nature　is　full　of　love。　Every　created　being　has　its　mate；

the　most　insignificant　bird　sings　to　its　paramour；　the　very　beetle

woos　its　lady…beetle　in　the　dust；　and　yon　butterflies　which　you　see

fluttering　high　above　the　tower；　and　toying　in　the　air；　are　happy　in

each　other's　loves。　Alas；　my　prince　hast　thou　spent　so　many　of　the

precious　days　of　youth　without　knowing　any　thing　of　love？　Is　there

no　gentle　being　of　another　sex…　no　beautiful　princess　nor　lovely

damsel　who　has　ensnared　your　heart；　and　filled　your　bosom　with　a

soft　tumult　of　pleasing　pains　and　tender　wishes？〃

　　〃I　begin　to　understand；〃　said　the　prince；　sighing；　〃such　a　tumult

I　have　more　than　once　experienced；　without　knowing　the　cause；　and

where　should　I　seek　for　an　object　such　as　you　describe；　in　this　dismal

solitude？〃

　　A　little　further　conversation　ensued；　and　the　first　amatory　lesson

of　the　prince　was　complete。

　　〃Alas！〃　said　he；　〃if　love　be　indeed　such　a　delight；　and　its

interruption　such　a　m