The King accepted the tribute from the Old Man, who said he had come to present His Majesty the two pearls on behalf of all the subjects in his hometown to express their reverent affections for him.
Ever since the King came to the throne there had been many assassination attempts. He felt in this kingdom there were enemies hidden in every corner. This was the first time his subjects had expressed their loyalty to him directly.
The Old Man said: “Your Majesty, this pair of pearls have been ancestral treasures in my family. At the mere touch of poison, they will dance as if enraptured.”
The King was delighted. He had been jumpy about his food because several of his servants had already died from poison. Before every meal he would have a servant test the food first to make sure. So, the King ordered his servants to bring up poisoned food for the test.
As expected, once the two pearls were soaked wet in the delicacy, they would jump up and dance rapturously on the table like well-trained court dancers. They danced gracefully and when they “bounced” into each other now and then, there was such a pleasant ring in the air.
Pleased, the King awarded the Old Man with many precious things in return. He gazed at the pearls again: They look like agate yet they aren’t agate; they feel like jade yet they aren’t jade either; they are such rare, precious treasures in the world. With them in hand the daily cankerous worry about his food vaporized. He knew, of course, that to conquer the heart and soul of the entire kingdom was a different matter altogether.
The two pearls became loyal servants of the King, a secret known to the King alone. However, attempts on his life still came in his direction like moths flying to the lamp. Every few days the pearls would dance on account of the delicacies brought in for the King. The King would issue decrees to search for the conspirators among his chefs, cooks, helpers, and the courtiers behind them—catch a whole string of them, and have them executed or replaced with another bunch.
Before long everyone in the royal palace knew about the two pearls. And the King cherished them even more. He instructed his servants to take care of the pearls the same way they took care of his family and relatives. Pearls were inanimate things and could not be bestowed any royal titles, but in reality, in all aspects of their life, they were being treated well above many of the favorite courtiers. Even when the King presided over courtly proceedings, he would be accompanied by the pearls left and right.
All the courtiers couldn’t help but be awed by the pearls as if the pearls could penetrate their minds at its deepest, darkest recesses. For a while everything in the royal palace was calm and orderly. Every time the King dined the two pearls would be with him. They would stay soaked in the delicacies while the King was eating. He didn’t want to take them out.
During the meal the King would use his wooden spoon to touch the pearls in the plates with such tenderness as if they were his bright and mischievous princes and say: Why don’t you dine with His Majesty?
By the time the King laid down his bowl and spoon, the pearls would be covered in grease and bits of food all over. So the servants would give the pearls a bath in the presence of the King. They would prepare a special liquid: sheep or camel milk mixed with petals of fresh flowers, especially budding oleander blossoms, which were so fine and fragrant. Once cleansed, the King would hold the pearls in his hands and kiss them again and again. He felt the pearls were his ever-dependable lifeline. During his bath, if the servants handled the pearls with the slightest carelessness, the King would fly into a rage. In reality, the pearls wouldn’t suffer even the slightest injury while dancing as intensely as they did every time.
Gradually even the dances of beautiful court girls would not appeal to the King. Then, he was bothered by a new worry: The pearls haven’t danced for a long while. The King loved the dance of the pearls, yet when they danced it would mean danger had got threateningly close. Bored to death, the King told his servants to put poison in the food. He wanted to see the pearls dance no matter what. Having not touched poison for a while, the pearls danced so frenziedly that they bounced off the table and landed hard on the stone floor. The King cringed, afraid they would get hurt, though he was pleased by their seemingly unflappable loyalty.
The King would indulge in recalling the dances of the pearls as a way of satisfying himself. He remembered a sense of deathlike aura in the last frenzied dance of the pearls. He began to use even more care to hold them. The pearls used to take a bath both before and after the meal. Now the King decreed that there should be an additional bath both in the morning and in the evening. The blossoms used for preparing the bath were collected fresh from hills and vales, but that wasn’t good enough. The King had a greenhouse built specially for this purpose so flowers would be blooming all year round.
Soon the pearls themselves got used to bathing. During the summer when the weather got really hot, the pearls would shake restlessly. That was not dancing, though, but their way of expressing their wishes. The King, however, thought the pearls wanted to dance. Once immersed in the bath liquid, the pearls would be thrilled and then calm again. The King ordered the servants to give the pearls more baths on days when it was either very hot or very cold. The pearls gave out such a dreamy fragrance all the time as if they had absorbed the essence of all the nectars from the most fragrant flowers between heaven and earth.
Now the King didn’t want to watch the pearls taking bath anymore because that was a time-consuming process. Instead he would wear them wherever he went. He found that the pearls could even augment his virility and sexual appetite. He could dance frenziedly like the pearls, too. Only that his bed would be his stage and he would mimic the moves of the pearls in his nightly forays. He was amazed by how potent he was at his age. It must be a gift from the pearls.
Then, the unfortunate thing happened at last. The thing that had been cooking for so long. The King was poisoned. As usual the pearls had been immersed in the food but gave no reaction. They didn’t dance as they were supposed to.
The King had a convulsive pain in the stomach. He knew what he had dreaded for so long had befallen him at last. Why didn’t you dance? He mumbled to the pearls.
The Old Man who had given him the pearls came—Per the King’s decree he had been working as a gardener taking care of the greenhouse. Biting his lips in pain, the King stammered to the Old Man: “You’ve murdered the King!”
The Old Man said, with a smile on his face: “Majesty, you’ve spoiled the pearls. Ever since my earliest ancestors, the pearls have always bathed in poisonous water. That’s why they are so sensitive to poison that, as I said, at the mere touch they would be excited and dance.”
The King said: “But they didn’t dance this time. . . . ”
The Old Man said, calmly: “Majesty, it’s because you have changed their nature. They’ve become used to the kind of life you’ve given them. Now, at the mere touch of fragrant bath water they would dance. But you don’t see all this.”
Dark blood oozing from his mouth, his life flickering one last time, the King saw flashing across his mind a pair of pearls dancing frenziedly.
(2004)