Children’s Stories by Oscar Wilde (motivational books to read .TXT) 📕

than the wind, and with a sieve and a pail of water I can send the great galleys to the bottom of the sea. But I have a price, pretty boy, I have a price. What d’ye lack? What d’ye lack? I know a flower that grows in the valley, none knows it but I. It has purple leaves, and a star in its heart, and its juice is as white as milk. Shouldst thou touch with this flower the hard lips of the Queen, she would follow thee all over the world. Out of the bed of the King she would rise, and over the whole world she would follow thee. And it has a price, pretty boy, it has a price. What d’ye lack? What d’ye lack? I can pound a toad in a mortar, and make broth of it, and stir the broth with a dead man’s hand. Sprinkle it on thine enemy while he sleeps, and he will turn into a black viper, and his own mother will slay him. With a wheel I can draw the Moon from heaven, and in a crystal I can show thee Death. What d’ye lack? What d’ye lack? Tell me thy desire, and I will give it thee, and thou shalt pay me a price, pretty boy, thou shalt pay me a price.”

“My desire is but for a little thing,” said the young Fisherman, “yet hath the Priest been wroth with me, and driven me forth. It is but for a little thing, and the merchants have mocked at me, and denied me. Therefore am I come to thee, though men call thee evil, and whatever be thy price I shall pay it.”

“What wouldst thou?” asked the Witch, coming near to him.

“I would send my soul away from me,” answered the young Fisherman.

The Witch grew pale, and shuddered, and hid her face in her blue mantle. “Pretty boy, pretty boy,” she muttered, “that is a terrible thing to do.”

He tossed his brown curls and laughed. “My soul is nought to me,” he answered. “I cannot see it. I may not touch it. I do not know it.”

“What wilt thou give me if I tell thee?” asked the Witch, looking down at him with her beautiful eyes.

“Five pieces of gold,” he said, “and my nets, and the wattled house where I live, and the painted boat in which I sail. Only tell me how to get rid of my soul, and I will give thee all that I possess.”

She laughed mockingly at him, and struck him with the spray of hemlock. “I can turn the autumn leaves into gold,” she answered, “and I can weave the pale moonbeams into silver if I will it. He whom I serve is richer than all the kings of this world, and has their dominions.”

“What then shall I give thee,” he cried, “if thy price be neither gold nor silver?”

The Witch stroked his hair with her thin white hand. “Thou must dance with me, pretty boy,” she murmured, and she smiled at him as she spoke.

“Nought but that?” cried the young Fisherman in wonder and he rose to his feet.

“Nought but that,” she answered, and she smiled at him again.

“Then at sunset in some secret place we shall dance together,” he said, “and after that we have danced thou shalt tell me the thing which I desire to know.”

She shook her head. “When the moon is full, when the moon is full,” she muttered. Then she peered all round, and listened. A blue bird rose screaming from its nest and circled over the dunes, and three spotted birds rustled through the coarse grey grass and whistled to each other. There was no other sound save the sound of a wave fretting the smooth pebbles below. So she reached out her hand, and drew him near to her and put her dry lips close to his ear.

“Tonight thou must come to the top of the mountain,” she whispered. “It is a Sabbath, and He will be there.”

The young Fisherman started and looked at her, and she showed her white teeth and laughed. “Who is He of whom thou speakest?” he asked.

“It matters not,” she answered. “Go thou tonight, and stand under the branches of the hornbeam, and wait for my coming. If a black dog run towards thee, strike it with a rod of willow, and it will go away. If an owl speak to thee, make it no answer. When the moon is full I shall be with thee, and we will dance together on the grass.”

“But wilt thou swear to me to tell me how I may send my soul from me?” he made question.

She moved out into the sunlight, and through her red hair rippled the wind. “By the hoofs of the goat I swear it,” she made answer.

“Thou art the best of the witches,” cried the young Fisherman, “and I will surely dance with thee tonight on the top of the mountain. I would indeed that thou hadst asked of me either gold or silver. But such as thy price is thou shalt have it, for it is but a little thing.” And he doffed his cap to her, and bent his head low, and ran back to the town filled with a great joy.

And the Witch watched him as he went, and when he had passed from her sight she entered her cave, and having taken a mirror from a box of carved cedarwood, she set it up on a frame, and burned vervain on lighted charcoal before it, and peered through the coils of the smoke. And after a time she clenched her hands in anger. “He should have been mine,” she muttered, “I am as fair as she is.”

And that evening, when the moon had risen, the young Fisherman climbed up to the top of the mountain, and stood under the branches of the hornbeam. Like a targe of polished metal the round sea lay at his feet,