Stranica 154 [154]
LABOULAYE’S BALRY: BOOK
then mounted to the top of the great tower to follow the
ungrateful boy with his eyes as far as he could see. When
Carlino at last disappeared in the distance, the poor mon¬
arch thought that his heart was breaking. He buried his
face in his hands and wept, not like a child, but like a father.
The tears of a child are like the summer rain, large drops
that are soon dried up; the tears of a father are like the
autumnal rain, which falls slowly and soaks into the ground.
While the king wept, Carlino, mounted on a fine horse,
rode on gaily, his plume waving in the wind, like a hero
about to conquer the world. To find what he sought was
not an easy task, however, and his journey lasted more
than one day. He crossed mountains and valleys, traversed
kingdoms, duchies, earldoms, and baronies, and visited
cities, villages, castles, and cottages, gazing at all the
women, and gazed at by them in turn; but all in vain: the
treasure that he sought was not to be found in old Europe.
At the end of four months he reached Marseilles, resolved
to embark for the Indies. At the sight of the raging sea,
however, his brave and faithful servants were seized with
an epidemic, called by the physicians stay-at-homeativeness
in Hebrew, and the headache in the feet in Latin. ‘To the
great regret of these honest people, they were forced to quit
their good master and remain quietly on shore, wrapped
in their warm blankets, while Carlino, embarked on a frail
bark, braved the winds and waves.
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