“There is no need to consider”; and he
chose Pleasure.
He went out into the world and sought out the pleasures
that youth delights in. But each in its turn
was short-lived and disappointing, vain and empty;
and each, departing, mocked him. In the end he
said: “These years I have wasted.
If I could but choose again, I would choose wisely.”
The fairy appeared, and said:
“Four of the gifts remain. Choose once
more; and oh, remember —time is flying,
and only one of them is precious.”
The man considered long, then chose Love; and did
not mark the tears that rose in the fairy’s
eyes.
After many, many years the man sat by a coffin, in
an empty home. And he communed with himself,
saying: “One by one they have gone away
and left me; and now she lies here, the dearest and
the last. Desolation after desolation has swept
over me; for each hour of happiness the treacherous
trader, Love, as sold me I have paid a thousand hours
of grief. Out of my heart of hearts I curse him.”
“Choose again.” It was the fairy
speaking.
“The years have taught you wisdom—surely
it must be so. Three gifts remain. Only
one of them has any worth—remember it,
and choose warily.”
The man reflected long, then chose Fame; and the fairy,
sighing, went her way.
Years went by and she came again, and stood behind
the man where he sat solitary in the fading day, thinking.
And she knew his thought:
“My name filled the world, and its praises were
on every tongue, and it seemed well with me for a
little while. How little a while it was!
Then came envy; then detraction; then calumny; then
hate; then persecution. Then derision, which
is the beginning of the end. And last of all
came pity, which is the funeral of fame. Oh,
the bitterness and misery of renown! target for mud
in its prime, for contempt and compassion in its decay.”
“Chose yet again.” It was the fairy’s
voice.
“Two gifts remain. And do not despair.
In the beginning there was but one that was precious,
and it is still here.”
“Wealth—which is power! How
blind I was!” said the man. “Now,
at last, life will be worth the living. I will
spend, squander, dazzle. These mockers and despisers
will crawl in the dirt before me, and I will feed
my hungry heart with their envy. I will have
all luxuries, all joys, all enchantments of the spirit,
all contentments of the body that man holds dear.
I will buy, buy, buy! deference, respect, esteem,
worship—every pinchbeck grace of life the
market of a trivial world can furnish forth.
I have lost much time, and chosen badly heretofore,
but let that pass; I was ignorant then, and could
but take for best what seemed so.”
