Beware of Man!

The moist breezes were trembling slowly over the face of the calm sea when the young fisherman came upon the winding shore, stumbling in his steps like a drunkard. He stood gazing closely at the sea, as though it had vanished from his sight. Then upon his pensive features appeared a dark cloud in which surged various phantoms, all of them expressing a single meaning: mockery of this heavy life... this exceedingly heavy life.

He has been starving for two whole days; O what luck, O what fate!!

This is dreadful, no doubt of it; but it is now a fact — so what is to be done??

And these bewildered words kept turning on his tongue as they turn in the mouth of a madman who knows not what he says.

Life appeared to his eyes in a fleeting gleam, for all its darknesses,

when — at the last moment — he resolved upon something within himself.

What harm would it do him if he cast himself into this merciful deep instead of this net of his?

Would he not, in doing so, hold more firmly to his dignity than he does now, lowering it every day to the humiliation of every kind of bitter begging, which makes his brow drip with sweat and fills his eyes with brokenness?!

And there appeared to him on the surface of the waters, between the still ebb and flow, those grim faces — the faces of his creditors, looking at him askance, and on the lips of each of them words...

And with a mad movement in which appeared the pride of one jealous of his dignity, he pulled the rope of the net toward him, to cast himself in its place.

Is not death dearer to him than this... foolish, insipid life?

Yes indeed... Then what remains for him to do! Nothing, nothing at all!! And he pulled the rope toward him a second time, while a strong voice rising from the depths of his soul opposed him, saying: But you, man, are still young, and the paths before you are still wide of side, gilded at their edges.

But he cut that voice off violently, saying:

Yes, I am young; I know that well. But what is the worth of this dry youth that withers and perishes, waiting without ever attaining its hopes!!

What is the worth of this youth that stands with bowed head, waiting for the black morsel!

It spoke to him a speech in which was his manhood... and his heart... and the cry of his soul. Then he cast his net, and it went sinking slowly to the bottom until—

Then what is this silent melody sending its tunes from the depth of his soul?

It is weakness... without a doubt.

And the sky darkened all of a sudden, then smiled; the sad horizon frowned, then broke into a smile over a secret no one understands. And between this and that, and that and this, the youth pulled the rope of the net toward him for the last time with all his strength, brimming with revolt; but hardly had he done so than he stopped, exhausted and astonished, for his Herculean strength dwindled before that heavy load which dragged the net toward the bottom.

What could be down there?! And he lifted a disheveled lock of his straight hair from his brow and set to wiping away the drops that trickled from it.

What a... fool he is! What has he to do with the net now, and what does it matter to him anymore? Let him leave it in the fathomless deep forever... And he laughed a laugh of many meanings; but perhaps it was curiosity, or a clinging to the skirts of life, or something other than all of this, that stopped his laughter in his throat; whereupon he set to hauling on the rope with the pull of one who trusts himself anew...

The minutes followed one another, each dragging the next; a great fish glided swiftly past him, and a flash of heat lightning gleamed at the horizon.

But he noticed none of this, for his sole concern was directed wholly toward that heavy load; and his strength prevailed, and he hauled it out at last.

Oh... what is this? What a beautiful, tempting chest — never in his life had he seen its like. Good God! It is as if its glittering stones were set from the brilliant stars of heaven. But... what secrets might this chest hold?

It was not that miraculous chance that so gripped the despairing fisherman as his desire to know what was still hidden in store for him; and in that fine instant the last thought of doing away with himself that had crossed his imagination vanished, and he began working at the chest's latch with the deftness of an expert, while his lips parted in a broad smile...

And at the last moment the chest opened, and there appeared to the youth inside it a fair young maiden whose like in splendor and loveliness he had never in his life beheld. The girl parted her lashes gently and began looking at him through them...

She saw youth, and strength, and beauty, and something wondrous and marvelous she did not understand.

She saw all this hidden behind the appearances of poverty, and she admired him, and wished that he would accept her condition... and rescue her:

And he saw the magic of the two dark eyes and the red of the two dewy lips, and the delicate, bewitching meanings flooded with freshness, in which tenderness came forth and life laughed; and he admired her, and wished that she would permit him to bow down before this beauty in a prostration from which he would not raise his head until the day they are gathered up. But he froze and showed nothing, and remained in his place, humbled; and she began to converse with him in honeyed logic and mellow tones, saying:

"...Do you see this chest, O fortunate youth? It carries gold in plenty, and it is yours, lawful and good, if you take it in exchange for me... Will you do so? Or will you accept me instead of it?"

And her mouth broke into a radiant smile which he fancied came with the threads of the sun that peeped just then from behind the clouds. In that moment he forgot his hunger, his poverty, and his despair; and life with all its charms was revealed to him between those two smiling lips, and he cried aloud:

"No — it is you I choose!"

You, O greatest heavenly gift the merciful Creator sends down to His wretched servants.

You, my adored maiden, whom I prefer

above the glories of the world — above everything else in existence. And with all the strength he possessed he stepped toward her and carried her in his arms; then he began kicking that glittering chest off the shore with his feet until the waters swallowed it.

Then he bent and pressed upon her radiant brow his first kiss...

And she said to him, a ray of tenderness flooding her beautiful eyes: "Where do you wish our new home to be?"

And the youth was abashed; the embarrassing truth appeared before him; he choked on his saliva and did not answer, while his eyes gazed at her in supplication and appeal for mercy. But a flash of her inborn quickness of wit made her hasten to speak and pull him out of his confusion, and she exclaimed: Does not this place where we came to know each other please you? Do not these fair sands enchant you, whose feet the cold waves wash by night, and which the scorching rays of the sun kiss by day?

And then this poetic horizon — does it not bewitch you?

She glanced at her tender fingertips, then at his bewildered eyes, and without receiving any answer to her words she turned a silver ring that adorned one of her fingers — and behold, a mighty genie stood before her in reverence, bowing his enormous head, saying to her in his hoarse, resounding voice: At your service, my lady; let it be as you command...

She said: I wish us to have in this spot a spacious garden with far-stretching sides and high walls, the fragrance of whose flowers breathes forth in summer and autumn even more than in spring, and through whose lofty trees with their tender boughs sweet streams wind; and let there rise in its midst a great palace holding the most inspired of the arts of the Greeks, the Romans, the Egyptians, and the Arabs, and holding — apart from the melodies of the birds — peace and quiet for two spouses happy in the blessing of love.

She said this and laid one hand over the fisherman's eyes and the other over her own; then she lifted them, and behold, there were "two gardens with spreading boughs"

such as no two eyes had beheld before?
Good God — what a magnificent sight...!

And the youth began turning his gaze upon all that was around him, dazed and bewildered, while the girl at his side looked at him with fascination and delight. A little while passed, and behold, the fisherman youth stood clean and perfumed, trailing in elegant clothes, his fair one standing at his side in her white gown with its glittering trains, that he might be wedded to her... surrounded by the two attendants and the servants, lighting candles and pouring out perfume and singing enchanting songs full of secrets and riddles.

And weeks passed...

The fingers of dawn began to tear the veils of darkness and peep haughtily through them; a delicate breeze passed over the bride's face and she awoke smiling, shook off her soft covers, and rose to her young man, stroking his head with her hand and whispering to him in her tender tone:

Is it not time you awoke, my darling! The dew trembles enchantingly upon the flowers; the gentle breezes sway over the face of the sea until they seem to melt into the last remnants of the moonlight upon it; the birds of every kind glorify the Creator with their sweet warbling and fill this morning with magic

and beauty; and I... I long to hear the ring of your flowing words... And while she was drawing her face near to his, she felt him stir restlessly without answering; she looked at him with startled eyes, then withdrew from his side, dazed, a tear welling between the long lashes.

And she said, communing with herself: Perhaps he has grown weary of this monotonous life whose days never change. Let me bring him a matchless library whose books will draw him into their gleaming climes, from which he may look out upon the ages gone by and the bright present ages that followed them, and whose authors will fly with him to the homelands of imagination and beauty.

And she rubbed her silver ring, and her genie rose at once, offering her his service; and he carried out what he was bidden, and the rare library stood at the disposal of her beloved young man...

But nothing in that library dispelled the gloom that no longer left the dear husband's face. Yet she did not despair — perhaps he yearned to see people... And was man created to live alone??

And she began gently to lay her idea before him, once she had resolved upon it.

And no long while passed before he had great warehouses whose like had never been seen in that city; and behold, workmen awaiting his orders, and behold, customers to whom he presented his terms. His trade prospered with a prosperity that took away his sullenness, distracted him from his brooding, and restored the sweet smiles to the lips of the tender husband.

* * *

Night fell thick and heavy, and the palace and all in it grew as still as the sleepers of the long Cave. The garden clock struck its resounding eleven strokes, rousing the wife, who had been waiting for her husband's return since sunset by the great thicket. She rose to put out the shining lights one by one — but instead of making for the palace stairs and then for her bed as usual — she walked slowly toward the great door, then crossed it to the outside, an idea having risen in her head...

Here are the waves quivering on the sands of the shore; here are the stars sending their pale light down to the earth; and here are the painful memories pouring in upon the mind of (the maiden of the sea), showing her a black world in which there is nothing but every dissembler, hypocrite, deceiver, and trickster. And is not (he) of this world too, and of the sons of man? No... no, he shall not be of their kind; he is nobler than they. But are not the messengers and the prophets also of this world??

And she went on walking forward, justifying to herself the end she sought; she walked an hour or part of one, and stopped at last before her husband's warehouses, locked, silent with the silence of that night, gazing at them from a heart bursting with tears... Good God! How deluded she had been when she believed in his innocence...

An elderly watchman passed by her and stopped to ask what she wanted at that last watch of the night; and when he saw the distraction of her mind and the sorrow of her lovely face... he understood. He bowed his head a moment, then raised that head, heavy with the experience of days, to say to her in a voice grieving, as though he felt he was sounding in it the death-knell of her hopes: He is there, my lady, in the arms of a beautiful mistress who pours him the wine of passion in brimming cups...

He said this and vanished quickly, to hide a tear that quivered between his lids in the pale light of the street, out of pity for broken beauty and for cursed virtue.

And swiftly she too disappeared behind him, wrapped in the folds of darkness — not to wipe away the trace of the precious tears, but to throw herself in surrender into the bosom of the beloved sea, and to swear for the last time that she would never try man a second time...

And on the morrow, there was the fisherman roaming the markets, asking and searching after his estates, his buildings, his trade, his glory, and his fair one...

And whenever he passed by anyone, there was drawn upon that person's face, at his condition, an image of pain for him and pity upon him...

That is because no one perceived that he had never been mad at all — and that he was only facing... his own truth — for the first time in his life.