Сказки / Fairy Tales - стр. 6

He said to the Linnet,

‘You can fly over the tops of the tall trees. You can see the whole world. Tell me, can you see my mother?’

And the Linnet answered,

‘You hurt my wings for your pleasure. How can I fly?’

And to the little Squirrel who lived in the fir-tree, and was lonely, he said,

‘Where is my mother?’

And the Squirrel answered,

‘You killed my children. Do you want to kill her, too?’

And the Star-Child wept and bowed his head, and prayed forgiveness of God’s creatures. He went on through the forest, he looked for the beggar-woman. On the third day he came to the other side of the forest and went down into the plain[13].

When he passed through the villages the children mocked him, and threw stones at him. The farmers did not let him sleep even in the byres, because he was very foul. The workers drove him away, and there was none who had pity on him. Nor could he hear anywhere of the beggar-woman who was his mother.

During three years he wandered over the world, and often saw beggars on the road. But he met his mother nowhere.

He wandered over the world, and in the world there was neither love nor kindness nor charity for him. It was such a world as he made for himself in the days of his great pride.

One evening he came to the gate of a city that stood by a river. He was weary and footsore and tried to enter. But the soldiers who stood on guard dropped their halberts[14] across the entrance, and said roughly to him,

‘What do you want in the city?’

‘I look for my mother,’ he answered, ‘please let me enter in, she may be in this city.’

But the soldiers mocked at him. One of them wagged a black beard, and set down his shield and cried,

‘Truly, your mother will not be merry when she sees you, because you are uglier than the toad of the marsh, or the adder that crawls in the fen. Get away! Your mother does not dwell in this city.’

And another soldier, who held a yellow banner in his hand, said to him,

‘Who is your mother? Why are you not together with her?’

The Star-Child answered,

‘My mother is a beggar as I am. I treated her evilly. Please let me pass that she may give me her forgiveness, if she lives in this city.’

But the soldiers pricked him with their spears.

As he turned away, one whose armour was with gilt flowers, and on whose helmet couched a lion with wings, came up and asked the soldiers who it was. The soldiers said to him,

‘It is a beggar and the child of a beggar. Let him go away.’

‘No,’ he cried and laughed, ‘but we will sell the foul child for a slave and buy a bottle of sweet wine.’