Chapter VII: Part THE FIFTH

So, being risen, the Prince in brief while went Forth to the market-place, where babblement Of them that bought and them that sold was one Of many sounds in murmurous union-- buzzing as of bees about their hives, With shriller gossiping of garrulous wives Piping a tuneless treble thereunto: In midst whereof he went his way as who Looketh about him well before he buys, To mark the manner of their merchandise; Till chancing upon one who cried for sale A horse, and seeing it well-limb'd and hale, And therewithal right goodly to behold, He bought the beast and paid the man in gold, And having gotten him the needful gear Rode from the market, nothing loth to hear Its garrulous wives no longer, and the din Of them that daily bought and sold therein. So from the place he passed, and slowly down Street after street betook him till the town Behind him and the gates before him were, And all without was cornland greenly fair.

And through the cornland wending many a mile, And through the meadowland, he came erewhile To where the highways parted, and no man Was nigh to tell him whitherward they ran; But while he halted all in doubtful mood, An eagle, as if mourning for her brood Stolen, above him sped with rueful cry; And when that he perceived the fowl to fly Plaining aloud, unto himself he said, "Now shall yon mournful mother overhead Instruct the wandering of my feet, and they Shall follow where she leadeth:" and away The bird went winging westward clamorously, That westward even in her wake went he. And it may be that in his heart there stirred Some feeling as of fellowship with the bird; For he, like her, was bound on a lone quest; And for his feet, as for her wings, no rest Might be, but only urgence of desire, And one far goal that seemed not ever nigher.

So through that country wended he his way, Resting anights, till on the seventh day He passed unwares into another land, Whose people's speech he could not understand-- A tract o'er-run with tribes barbarian, And blood-red from the strife of man with man: And truly 'twas a thing miraculous That one should traverse all that rude land thus, And no man rid him of his gold, nor raise A hand to make abridgment of his days; But there was that about him could make men's Hearts, ere they knew it, yield him reverence,-- Perchance a sovran something in his eye, Whereat the fierce heart failed, it wist not why;-- Perchance that Fate which (hovering like a doubt Athwart his being) hemmed him round about, Gloomed as a visible shadow across his way, And made men fearful. Be this as it may, No harm befell him in that land, and so He came at last to where the ebb and flow Of other seas than he had wandered o'er Upflung to landward an attempered roar; And wandering downward to the beach, he clomb To topmost of a tall grey cliff, wherefrom He saw a smoke as of men's houses, far Off, from a jutting point peninsular Uprising: whence he deemed that there a town Must surely be. And so he clambered down The cliff, and getting him again to horse Thither along the seabound held his course, And reached that city about sunset-tide The smoking of whose hearths he had espied.

There at an hostel rested he, and there Tarried the coming of the morn. But ere He fell asleep that night, a wandering thought, Through darkling byeways of the spirit brought, Knock'd at his soul for entrance, whispering low "What if to-night thou dream The Dream, and know To-morrow, when thou wakest from that bliss, The land wherein thou liest to be his Who hath the mystic jewel in his keep?" So, full of flattering hope he fell asleep, And sleeping dreamed, but dreamed not that he would: For at one time it seemed as if he stood Alone upon a sterile neck of land, Where round about him upon either hand Was darkness, and the cry of a dark sea, And worldwide vapours glooming thunderously; And ever as he stood, the unstable ground Slid from beneath his feet with a great sound, Till he could find no foothold anywhere That seemed not unsubstantial as the air. At otherwhiles he wandered all alone About a lonely land, and heard a moan As of some bird that sang and singing grieved; And peering all about the woods thick-leaved If so he might espy the bird, he found At length, after long searching, that the sound Even from the bottom of his own heart came, And unawares his own mouth sang the same. And then in dream 'twas like as years went by, And still he journeyed, hardly knowing why, Till at the last a mist about him fell, And if the mist were death he could not tell, For after that he knew no more. And so He slept until the cock began to crow.

Then came the gladful morn, that sendeth sick Dreams flying, and all shapes melàncholic That vex the slumbers of the love-distraught. Unto his heart the merry morning brought Cheer, and forewhisperings of some far-off rest, When he should end in sweet that bitter quest. But going forth that morn, and with his feet Threading the murmurous maze of street and street, All strangely fell upon him everywhere The things he saw and heard of foul or fair. The thronging of the folk that filled the ways; The hubbub of the street and market-place; The sound of heavy wain-wheels on the stones; The comely faces and ill-favoured ones; The girls with apple-cheeks and hair of gold; The grey locks and the wrinkles of the old;-- All these remote and unfamiliar Seem'd, and himself a something from afar, Looking at men as shadows on the wall And even the veriest shadow among them all.

But now when all things dreamwise seemed to swim About the dubious eyes and ears of him, That nothing in the world might be believed, It chanced that on a sudden he perceived Where one that dealt in jewels sat within His doorway, hearkening to the outer din, As who cared no-wise to make fast his ears Against the babble of the street-farers: Whereat the merchant, seeing a stranger pass, Guessed by his garb what countryman he was, And giving him good-day right courteously Bespake him in his mother-tongue; for he Had wandered in his youth o'er distant seas And knew full many lands and languages. Wherefore with him the royal stranger fell To talking cheerly, and besought him tell Whence all his gems were had and costly things, Talismans, amulets, and charmèd rings: Whereto the other answered, They had come Some from a country not far hence, and some From out a land a thousand leagues away To eastward, ev'n the birthplace of the Day, The region of the sun's nativity; And giving ear to this right readily The Prince would fain be told of him the way To that far homeland of the youngling Day. So, being ask'd, the other answered, "Sir, There liveth but one master-mariner Whose ship hath sailed so far: and that is he Who hither brought the jewels thou dost see. And now, as luck will have it for the nonce, He wills to voyage thitherward but once Before he die--for he is old like me-- And even this day se'nnight saileth he. Wherefore if thou be fain to see that land, There needeth only gold within thy hand: For gold, if that it jingle true and clear, Hath still a merry music for man's ear, And where is he that hateth sound of it?" So saying, the merchant bade the stranger sit, But the Prince thanked him for his courtesy, And went his way. And that day se'nnight he Was sailing toward the far-off morningland, And felt the skies about him like a band, And heard the low wind uttering numerous noise, And all the great sea singing as one voice.