Oldal 153 [153]
PEL, “TAREE CITRONS
stammered, wept, and finally cried, in a voice broken with
sobs:
“Oh, my child, the staff of my old age, my hearts blood,
the life of my soul, what an idea have you taken into your
head! Have you lost your reason? Yesterday you almost
made me die of sorrow by refusing to marry; to-day you are
about to drive me from the world by another piece of folly.
Whither would you go, unhappy boy? Why leave your
home, where you have been born and bred? Do you know
to what danger and suffering the traveler exposes himself?
Drive away these perilous fancies, and stay with me, my
child, if you would not deprive me of life and destroy your
kingdom and house at one blow.”
All these words, and others equally wise, had no more
effect than an official harangue. Carlino, his eye fixed and
his brow bent, listened to nothing but his passion. All
that was said to him went in at one ear and out at-the other:
it was eloquence cast to the winds.
When the old king, worn out with prayers and tears,
perceived that it was easier to melt a leaden weathercock
on its steeple than a spoiled child in pursuit of his whim, he
heaved a deep sigh and determined to let Carlino go; and
giving him counsels to which he scarcely listened, several
bags filled with guineas, which were rather better received
than the counsels, and two trusty servants, the good king
clasped his rebellious son to his heart and bade him adieu,
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