The old man, thus encouraged, began to lament the change, which had been lately observed in the prince, and to inquire, why he so often retired from the pleasures of the palace, to loneliness and silence.  “I fly from pleasure,” said the prince, “because pleasure has ceased to please; I am lonely, because I am miserable, and am unwilling to cloud, with my presence, the happiness of others.”

“You, sir,” said the sage, “are the first who has complained of misery in the happy valley.  I hope to convince you, that your complaints have no real cause.  You are here in full possession of all that the emperour of Abissinia can bestow; here is neither labour to be endured, nor danger to be dreaded, yet here is all that labour or danger can procure or purchase.  Look round, and tell me which of your wants is without supply:  if you want nothing, how are you unhappy?”

“That I want nothing,” said the prince, “or that I know not what I want, is the cause of my complaint; if I had any known want, I should have a certain wish; that wish would excite endeavour, and I should not then repine to see the sun move so slowly towards the western mountain, or lament when the day breaks, and sleep will no longer hide me from myself.  When I see the kids and the lambs chasing one another, I fancy, that.  I should be happy, if I had something to pursue.  But, possessing all that I can want, I find one day and one hour exactly like another, except that the latter is still more tedious than the former.  Let your experience inform me, how the day may now seem as short as in my childhood, while nature was yet fresh, and every moment showed me what I never had observed before.  I have already enjoyed too much; give me something to desire.”

The old man was surprised at this new species of affliction, and knew not what to reply, yet was unwilling to be silent.  “Sir,” said he, “if you had seen the miseries of the world, you would know how to value your present state.”  “Now,” said the prince, “you have given me something to desire; I shall long to see the miseries of the world, since the sight of them is necessary to happiness.”

CHAP.  IV.

THE PRINCE CONTINUES TO GRIEVE AND MUSE.

At this time the sound of musick proclaimed the hour of repast, and the conversation was concluded.  The old man went away, sufficiently discontented, to find that his reasonings had produced the only conclusion which they were intended to prevent.  But, in the decline of life, shame and grief are of short duration; whether it be, that we bear easily what we have borne long, or that, finding ourselves in age less regarded, we less regard others; or that we look with slight regard upon afflictions, to which we know that the hand of death is about to put an end.

The prince, whose views were extended to a wider space, could not speedily quiet his emotions.  He had been before terrified at the length of life which nature promised him, because he considered, that in a long time much must be endured; he now rejoiced in his youth, because in many years much might be done.