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.
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