The Garden Of Innocence

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Title:     The Garden Of Innocence
Author: Bessie Hatton [More Titles by Hatton]

"A Book of Verses underneath the Bough
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness
Ah, Wilderness were Paradise enow!"
--Omar Khayyam

I.

Many a year ago, in a land that was washed by the sea, there lived a King who had an only son whom he loved very dearly.

Fertile gardens surrounded the palace. They extended for miles and miles. In the distance the sapphire sea looked like a calm lake. The gardens were rich in flowers, which bloomed all the year in this land of perpetual summer. There were lilies and violets, hyacinths, carnations, cyclamens, and orchids; but the rose was mistress of the land, and they called it the "Rose Islands." The trees were filled with song-birds, and the air was fragrant with perfume tempered by the sea.

If ever mortal man was framed for happiness, the Prince of the Rose Islands was he--a youth of a gallant disposition, his golden hair hanging from beneath his jewelled cap, his brown eyes half hidden by their long lashes. His doublet was of white brocade, his hose and pointed shoes of silk; he was the beau idéal of a prince in form and figure, and brave as he was amiable, two royal qualities.

The King, his father, observing that he appeared to be sad when it seemed to him he should be most happy, asked Ulric what troubled him.

"I am lonely, so please your Grace, and I would fain have a friend."

"I am thy friend, sweet son. Have I done aught that should forfeit me thy friendship?"

"My lord the King, I am always thine--thine in true obedience, thine in the sight of God, thine in filial love, but not in friendship. Though I dream of it night and day, I have never known friendship; sometimes, indeed, I fear that it cannot exist," replied the Prince sadly.

"Nay, Ulric, in good sooth, thou art mistaken. Look about thee, in the palace. The noble lords of our Court, the high-born pages who minister to thy wants, are all thy humble and devoted friends."

"Father, prithee pardon me for my temerity in differing from thy gracious word; but those of whom thou speakest are not my friends. They know that I am all-powerful with thee. They are but fawning sycophants, who feed upon thy bounty. If the sentiment they profess to cherish for me be friendship, then indeed my dreams of the meaning of the word are hollow, as hollow as is my life in this paradise of beauty."

The King laid his hand upon his son's head, and looked into his sad face.

"My poor child," he said, "God knows I love thee better than myself. Art thou not my successor to these fair islands? Tell me, what can a King do for thy comfort?"

"Prithee, good my lord, send for the Lady Christabel, the daughter of the great Earl, thy subject, and for Prince Winfred, the heir of that land yonder, which reflects itself in our sea; let them live here for a time, and help me to discover the meaning of that magic word friendship."

The King gave orders that an escort should start at once to bring the Lady Christabel to his palace. He also commanded that a ship should be built, in which to fetch Prince Winfred of the Sea Islands.

Lady Christabel arrived in the evening of the next day. She was mounted on a white steed, and was clad in a silken robe of opaline hue, her cloak and cap jewelled with moonstones. Ulric stood on the steps of the palace to receive her. She knelt and kissed his hand, and then looked upwards into his face. He noted the abundance of her dark hair and the strange beauty of her changing eyes, which were grey and blue by turn, as were the hues of her silken gown.

"Welcome, sweet Christabel, to our palace," said the Prince. "Dost think thou canst be happy here?"

"Ah, my dear lord, ask me if I could be happy in Paradise."

Ulric flushed with pleasure, and led her up the marble steps to the King's audience chamber. As the doors unclosed a sweet melody floated on the air, increased in volume for a brief space, then grew fainter and died away. Christabel found herself in an immense room. The walls were set with rubies, the floor was of rock crystal, strewn with pink and white rose-leaves. In the centre of the hall, upon a daïs covered with cloth of gold, sat the King, in his robes of state. The ladies of the Court, the lords and the pages, were clad in silks of various colours. Prince Ulric led Christabel to the foot of the throne.

"Welcome to our Court, my child," said the King. "Our dear son is lonely; wilt thou befriend him? Wilt thou teach him the solace of friendship? Wilt thou prove to him that it is a reality and not a dream?"

"Most gracious King," replied Christabel, "I will teach him all I know of selfless, sacrificing, eternal friendship."

"It does exist, then?" asked the Prince eagerly.

"Do the stars exist, my good lord, or the sun or the roses?"

"The roses wither, sweet lady, even here, in paradise."

"But friendship, good my lord, is a deathless rose; its leaves are immortal."

II.

At last Prince Ulric was happy. The days passed freighted with golden hours. He roamed with Christabel among the Rose Islands, and showed her the wonders thereof. Every day they inspected the progress made in the building of the ship which was to carry Prince Winfred to their shores. At length the vessel was finished, and she sailed away, the two companions watching her from the beach until her rosy flag and glittering figure-head were but specks in the distance. Then the Prince handed Christabel into a boat that spread its silken sails to the breeze, and they sailed along the coast.

"Art thou quite happy now, my gracious lord?" asked Christabel.

"Ay, in good sooth, sweet lady. Have I not found solace in thy companionship? Do I not at length possess the white rose of friendship?"

"My dear Prince, I am indeed thy true, though humble, friend for ever."

"For ever!" sighed Ulric. "Ah, Christabel, I was so sad before thou camest. Thou hast saved me. I lived in doubt of honest friendship until now."

Ulric gazed into her face. She took up her lute and sang to him, a song of youth and springtime.

Some days afterwards the ship which bore Prince Winfred anchored off the Rose Islands, and for the first time the two Princes met. Winfred, as became a son of the sea, was clothed in a garb of emerald tone, embroidered with shells. His cap was woven of strange sea-flowers. Great was the rejoicing in the Rose Islands over the advent of Prince Winfred. And as time went by great was the happiness of Ulric, for now he had another friend, a youth like unto himself.

Months passed, scarcely making a ripple on the sea of Time. The three companions basked in an eternal sunshine. Sometimes they sailed over the blue water, sometimes they sat among the flowers, while Winfred told them tales of his life and home--of strange caverns along the coast, of yellow sand-dunes covered with sea-flowers, of moorlands where purple heather bloomed, of long days passed in fishing, of stress and storms, of a sea that was often stern and angry, with crested waves beating shoreward. Ulric would gaze at his guest in wonder, but Christabel's eyes swam in a mist of tears, and when Winfred's hand touched hers she would tremble. He gazed into her eyes, and understood their meaning. As time went by Winfred grew silent, but each day he looked oftener at Christabel.

The roses withered, and bloomed again. Morning followed evening, hour succeeded hour. One day, as Prince Ulric wandered in the forest, he came suddenly upon his two friends. They did not see him, and he was spell-bound by the picture that met his gaze. Christabel was standing under a rose-bush, her hair falling from beneath a crown of flowers, and at her feet knelt Winfred, with upturned wondrous eyes. They remained long thus, in a blaze of sunlight from no earthly sun.

Ulric stole away, hurt to death. "Alas! I have been deceived," he moaned. "This is friendship, but I have never known it. They have found it; but not I--not I!"

Prince Winfred sailed away to his own land, with the Lady Christabel and many of the noblest members of the King's Court. Ulric would not accompany them. He preferred to be alone now that his companions had failed to teach him the secret of that friendship, the existence of which he had discovered in the forest. Furthermore, neither Winfred nor Christabel were solicitous for Ulric to journey with them to the Sea Islands. They had latterly grown strangely oblivious of their host's presence. The young Prince, however, only blamed himself. He felt that his was not a nature to inspire friendship, but he longed for the great gift more and more, until his life became almost unbearable. Seeking for the white rose among the people of his father's realm, he saw that they were only kind to him either through fear of his power or from motives of self-interest.

One day, as he rode through the kingdom attended by his pages, he came upon a garden where a young girl was gathering fruit. Ulric, thinking she had not observed his approach, dismounted hastily, and throwing his dark cloak around him, entered the garden. The maiden was well pleased to see the youth, in whom she recognised her future King. She had used all her feminine arts to entertain her guest, when suddenly the Prince's cloak slipped from his shoulders, and he stood before her in all the radiance of his princely garments.

For a moment the maiden feigned surprise, and her companion observed a new expression upon her face. He had almost guessed her thoughts before she threw herself upon her knees, and said, "Most gracious lord, prithee give me some jewels like unto these which adorn thy doublet."

Ulric cast down his cap in sorrow, for he remembered that it had remained undisguised upon his head all through the interview. From the first the maiden must have guessed his high degree. It was revealed by the royal badge of the pink rose, which glittered among its jewelled ornaments.

"She only was good to me because I could be of use to her," mused the Prince, as he rode homewards. "She flattered me and smiled upon me because I am supposed to be one of the lucky ones of the earth. Had I been a poor man's son it had been different."

The thought was an inspiration to him. Why should he not search for the deathless rose, disguised, that none might seek his friendship falsely? The idea haunted him. At length he discussed it with the King, who, seeing that the Prince was nearly desperate with grief, consented to his plan. Ulric dressed himself as a minstrel, and having received his father's blessing, left the palace and rode through the territory of the Rose Islands, opening his purse to the poor, and comforting the sorrowful with the strains of his lyre. As long as his supply of gold lasted he was well received; when it was gone his troubles commenced. He was hungry, and none would give him to eat or to drink. Moreover, he had crossed the sea, and had left the Islands of Summer behind him. The kingdom in which he was now travelling was a land of mist and storm. He rode bravely on, nevertheless. Often, when he asked for help at the cottagers' doors, they laughed at him, and the children beat him with sticks. Winter was severe in the land of mist and storm, and the Prince turned his horse's head southwards. After some days the character of the scenery changed. The climate became warm and sunny. One morning he led his steed through the mazes of a great forest. It was springtime; the birds were singing, the valleys were blue with wild hyacinths, and here and there Ulric came upon clusters of late primroses. Looking up, he could scarcely see the sky, so thick was the tracery of foliage between him and the heavens. They had no spring in the Rose Islands, no faint greens, no tender buds, but always the full glory of summer, with its vivid colouring and its drowsy breath. He was so enchanted with the beauty of this forest, the like of which he had never seen before, that for awhile he had actually forgotten his quest, when suddenly, right in front of him, he saw a beautiful youth. Small and delicately made, his dress was entirely fashioned of pink rose-leaves, and he had golden wings. The Prince stood amazed, the apparition was so sudden, there had not been a sound; he rubbed his eyes, but the stranger did not vanish, he was a reality.

"What dost thou here, son of a King?" asked the youth.

Ulric was still more surprised at being recognised under a disguise that had served him well so far; he could not speak for astonishment.

"Thou seekest the 'deathless rose of friendship,' is it not so?" asked the unknown.

"Ay, good sir. Perhaps thou canst aid me in my search?"

"Fair Prince, I can indeed advise thee how to proceed. First of all, hie thee out of this forest with all speed."

"Why, good sir, methinks it is a lovely place. The air is softer here than any I have known before, the birds sing sweeter songs, the flowers breathe a rarer perfume; for the first time in my life I feel happy; everything is fresh and young, and full of hope."

"Ay, royal minstrel, many love my land. Beware, nevertheless, of journeying through it. It is enchanted; and if thou wouldst indeed follow thy quest, hie thee from the shelter of its trees and from the scent of its flowers; but ere thou goest, I will tell thee what the word friendship means. Friends should be as bells upon a hyacinth, fed with the same rain, nourished by the same dew, warmed by the same sun, rocked by the same wind; equal, placid, and calm in their lives; above all, they should possess the virtue of unselfishness. Self-interest is the death of friendship."

"Good sir, I have ever felt thus; and being of this mind, I threw off my habit of a Prince and started in search of the great gift; but I have ridden now for a whole year, and I find it not, neither have I met in all my travels any who possess this 'deathless rose.'"

"Thou wast but a youth when thou didst leave thy father's palace; now thou art a man, and the King mourns thee as dead."

When Ulric heard this he was greatly grieved, and at once resolved to return to the Rose Islands.

"Tell me, before we part, good my lord, hast any proof that this 'rose of friendship' exists?"

Then Ulric told him the story of Winfred and Christabel, and described the scene which he had witnessed in the forest. The youth broke into peals of laughter, and the hues of his flower-dress became so vivid that the Prince's eyes were dazzled. Presently the stranger, assuming a serious manner, said,--

"I will tell thee where the Fairy Friendship dwells. She is my twin sister. Thou shalt make one last attempt to find her. She holds her Court in the clouds of the setting sun. Ere nightfall, go to the seashore, stretch forth thy hands to the garments of departing day, and say, 'Good Fairy Friendship, bring me unto thy chambers of light. If thou canst say this with no thought of self, no longing for a friend because of the pleasure that friendship bestows, but with the same feeling that the hyacinth bells have for each other, then a ladder will be let down from the regions of the sunset, and Friendship will give thee her deathless rose, which is so rare, so scarce a blossom, so seldom possessed by man or woman, so precious beyond all things, that once attained, it will be the most priceless flower in thy kingly crown."

"I thank thee, from my heart," said Ulric.

"If thou wouldst succeed, leave this land of mine; it will not bring thee unto the courts of friendship. Give up thy quest, and I will show thee something that is far sweeter than friendship, and far easier to win."

"Nay, fair youth, I will endeavour once more to find what I have so long sought in vain; but, before I bid thy beautiful country farewell, wilt thou tell me why the roses upon thy dress so far surpass those that bloom in my father's kingdom?"

"Good Ulric, hast never heard of Love? Love, who comes to mortals without their knowledge, ay, without their asking; Love, whose voice is sweeter than the nightingale's; Love, who was born of God in the Garden of Eden, and was clothed with the deathless roses that bloomed there?"

He did not wait for Ulric's answer, but vanished; and his laughter echoed through the forest like a peal of silver bells.

III.

At sunset the Prince stood upon the shore and stretched forth his hands heavenwards, uttering the words specified by Love. He never knew whether his mind had not the selfless quality enjoined by the youth, or whether the roses of friendship were all withered and dead; but the sunset and its glory was suddenly hidden from his sight by a veil of mist. When the mist cleared it was night. Ulric lay down upon the sand and wept, for he knew that the gift for which he had sought so long was not for him.

Towards morning he retraced his steps, hoping to meet the youth and to tell him how completely he had again failed in his quest; but he could not find the way to the forest. About mid-day, however, he came upon a hedged-in garden surrounding a lonely villa. Through the maze of boughs and foliage the Prince could see a beautiful maiden. She was clad in white, and her only ornament was a white rose. Ulric had never beheld so pure nor so lovely a maid. Hardly knowing what he did, he dismounted and leaped the hedge. When he was inside the garden he noticed that the trees were white with bloom, and that the path glittered with the fallen blossoms. He saw, too, that no coloured flowers grew in the floral beds; they were all white. As he gazed around, a silvery mist arose, and he could see nothing excepting the maiden, until it seemed to him that the enclosure was filled with her image. Then the mist cleared; the spell was broken, and he was alone.

The Prince was deeply sorry at having lost sight of the beautiful girl; moreover, he hardly dared to seek her in the depths of the snowy garden. An atmosphere of peace, which he feared to disturb, seemed to brood over the place. Before leaving the maiden's home he plucked a rose, as a memento of the fair vision he had seen; but to his surprise it was entirely without perfume. As he examined it, wondering at the strange phenomenon, some one addressed him from outside the hedge. Looking up, he recognised the youth with whom he had conversed in the forest. Ulric hurried towards him, with a cry of joy.

"That scentless bloom is not the rose of friendship, fair Prince," said the youth, taking the flower from Ulric's hand.

"Thou sayest true; I have not yet found it. Nevertheless, methinks I am on the right path. Hope stirs in my heart and whispers 'Courage!' But now, I saw a maiden here, beautiful as an angel. If I only dare seek her yonder, my soul tells me that I may discover in her the deathless rose for which I long."

"Then go, thou King's son. Most like thou art right. Seek her."

"Wilt thou not go too, good youth? In all my travels I have never known fear until now; and yet here, in this land of white flowers and whiter mists, Hope's gentle spur notwithstanding, I am overawed, I dare not venture."

"Ah, my Prince! if thou wilt find what thou desirest thou must be brave, and advance with faith and courage. I cannot lead thee, neither can I follow thee; but yonder the edge of this garden joins my land, the forest where I met thee yesterday. If thou findest not the maiden, seek me there. Farewell. See," he added, "see how sudden red thy white rose hath blushed!"

And vanishing, he dropped Ulric's rose at the Prince's feet. It was of a brilliant red, and gave forth a strangely powerful perfume.

Notwithstanding the encouragement of his unknown preceptor, the Prince would never have ventured far along the glittering path. The Fates seemed to check his progress. If the maiden, whom his heart prompted him to seek, had not left her bower to meet him, his quest, even so near upon success, might yet have ended in disappointment. But with gracious step the maid approached, and, holding forth her hand quite simply, herself led him through the garden.

Ulric walked on, looking into her eyes. His heart beat, and the flower-strewn way seemed to melt from beneath his feet.

"Good minstrel, who art thou?" asked the maiden.

"I am thy devoted servant," murmured the Prince. "Prithee, tell me thy name, gracious lady?"

"I am called Innocent, and I am the Princess of the Garden of Innocence."

"Is this the Garden of Innocence?"

"Yes."

"Is that the reason why the flowers are all white and scentless here?"

"Are they ever different, fair sir?" she asked wonderingly.

"In my land, sweet maiden, they are red, pink, purple, gold, and of every colour. But now, I had one of your own white roses which had changed to red."

The Princess looked at Ulric in amazement as he searched for his rose. There it lay at his feet; but it had again become as white and as scentless as all the other flowers in the garden. The Prince was sorely puzzled. Had he only dreamed that the rose had changed to red in the youth's hands?

They walked on in silence for many a long hour, their eyes meeting in a sympathy too great for words.

"At last," thought the Prince, "I have found the 'white rose of friendship,' the leaves whereof are immortal. I shall never part from it; it will be with me all my life, great, sacrificing, eternal friendship, straight from God."

He told Innocent of his grief, and of the bitter troubles that he had encountered in his search.

"Poor minstrel!" she said softly. "Be happy now, for thy sorrow is ended. I feel this deathless friendship for thee."

"God be thanked, that my quest is crowned with success; but since thou art my true friend, since thou art noble enough to hold me dear, though in thy eyes I seem but a poor beggar, know that I am the Prince of the Rose Islands, which yield the many-coloured flowers I have told thee of."

"Good my lord, that does not make thee more precious to me. Wert thou poor and despised, hated of all the world, weary and sick unto death, I could but hold thee more dear. Didst thou ask me for my life, I could but lay it willingly at thy feet."

Tears stole down her cheeks, and she looked up at Ulric with eyes of doglike fidelity.

"Ah, this is friendship!" sighed the Prince; "this is what Christabel and Winfred discovered in the forest. Come, sweet Innocent, I will take thee to the King, my father, and show him the 'deathless rose.'"

As Ulric finished speaking, he folded her in his arms and kissed her. The air was suddenly filled with ringing peals of laughter, and on the path, close to them, stood the youth who had not dared to venture inside the garden but a few hours before. Why had he come into the depths of the white country now? He waved his arms, and all the flowers changed to a brilliant red. Innocent's white rose fell from her hair, and in its place lay a crimson bloom, the wondrous perfume of which ascended like incense heavenwards.

"Fair Prince, thy search is fruitless," chanted the youth, in low penetrating tones. "Thou hast indeed found a rose which is deathless; but it is the sweet red rose of Love."

[The end]
Bessie Hatton's short story: Garden Of Innocence

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