oad, for Christ his sake,
neither dread death, nor desire the present world, but only long for
the world to come. Therefore, forasmuch the death that thou art
bringing upon us proveth but the passage to that everlasting and better
life, it is rather to be desired of us than feared."

Hereupon the king, wishing to entrap the monks, as I ween, shrewdly
said, "How now? Said ye not but this instant, that ye were withdrawing
even as I commanded you? And, if ye fear not death, how came ye to be
fleeing? Lo! this is but another of your idle boasts and lies." The
monks answered, "Tis not because we dread the death wherewith thou dost
threaten us that we flee, but because we pity thee. 'Twas in order that
we might not bring on thee greater condemnation, that we were eager to
escape. Else for ourselves we are never a whit terrified by thy
threats." At this the king waxed wroth and bade burn them with fire.
So by fire were these servants of God made perfect, and received the
Martyr's crown. And the king published a decree that, should any be
found leading a monk's life, he should be put to death without trial.
Thus was there left in that country none of the monastic order, save
those that had hid them in mountains and caverns and holes of the
earth. So much then concerning this matter.

V.

But meanwhile, the king's son, of whom our tale began to tell, never
departing from the palace prepared for him, attained to the age of
manhood. He had pursued all the learning of the Ethiopians and
Persians, and was as fair and well favoured in mind as in body,
intelligent and prudent, and shining in all excellencies. To his
teachers he would propound such questions of natural history that even
they marvelled at the boy's quickness and understanding, while the king
was astounded at the charm of his countenance and the disposition of
his soul. He charged the attendants of the young prince on no account
to make known unto him any of the annoys of life, least of all to tell
him that death ensueth on the pleasures of this world. But vain was
the hope whereon he stayed, and he was like the archer in the tale that
would shoot at the sky. For how could death have remained unknown to
any human creature? Nor did it to this boy; for his mind was fertile
of wit, and he would reason within himself, why his father had
condemned him never to go abroad, and had forbidden access to all. He
knew, without hearing it, that this was his fa