THE VENDO DREAMS Class __l : Book & ■ — fill Copyright^ _' COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. THE ANCIENT OF DAYS THE VENDOR OF DREAMS JULIA H. COFFIN [lil'-'iiW"""" ILLUSTRATIONS BY HASKELL COFFIN DECORATIONS BY JOHN O'NEILL NEW YORK DODD, MEAD, AND COMPANY 1917 Copyright, 19171 BY JULIA H. COFFIN v SEP II 1917 5>CLA476004 <&^ DEDICATION TO THE LORDS OF SPLENDOR AND THE LIGHT-BRINGERS OF ALL AGES Who'll buy my wares? Child of the Immortals The Quest The Blessed and the Damned The Plaint of the Pilgrim Soul The Woman, alone ! always alone i The Philosopher-Sage The Cry of the Unborn Souls The Man of Science The Seed, the Blossom, and the Fruit " WHO'LL BUY MY WARES?" "WHO'LL BUY MY WARES?" Along the main street of a great city: a city in the East, from whence the sun sends his informing rays to all Being; there slowly crept an old, old man. Hoary with age, he tremblingly drove before him a small ass, who was surely the great-grandfather of all the asses, so overweighted did he seem with wisdom and with years. Depending from either side of the small saddle upon his back were great jars, inflated water-skins and huge bundles. So overladen was he that only his head with its pendant ears, and his hindquarters could be seen. His master guided his ways by a small rod with which he occasionally touched the faithful beast, more as an indi- cation as to the course he was to take than from an assumption of authority; for be- tween this master and slave there seemed to be a most perfect understanding. The old man himself might have been anywhere from one hundred to five hundred years of age. He seemed to have reached the limit of the cycle of humanity, and since then to have remained in a crystal- lized state. His face appeared to be car- ven out of yellow ivory, every wrinkle be- 15 Ufa Vmch/of$)fecmd ing as immovable and fixed as fate; the only living thing about him was his eyes, which burned into your being with a fiery intensity, impossible to be endured for long. Around his head was folded a worn yellow turban, and his robe, once white, but now with the accumulated dust of years upon it, clung closely to his shrunken form. His sinewy, wasted, hands, protruding from the loose sleeves, continually trembled as if seek- ing to lay hold upon some elusive object. Occasionally there issued from his thin lips a weird and startling cry — "Who'll buy my wares? Who '11 buy my wares? " Most people laughed when they looked upon these two miserable creatures, — as if any one wanted the old bundles and water- skins! The children stuck out their tongues and jeered as they passed; while some of the more venturesome threw small pebbles, which, on striking the jars, gave forth such a hollow sound that they cried: "There's nothing in them, they are empty, quite empty." On he went in the early morning; in the glare of the noonday sun; in the dusk of the evening, with his ceaseless cry: "Who'll buy my wares? Who '11 buy my precious wares? " Few stopped the old man; but one day in the falling of the dusk, a woman's voice called from an upper casement behind a carven lattice work — "Stop ! old man, stop ! " 16 Ufa, Vmckfvf 2)f€amd The little ass seemed to know instinctively what she wished, and halted before the door of the house. Both waited silently until a small grating in the upper part of the door was opened and the woman looking out spoke: "Tell me, Oh, An- cient One! what it is you have for sale? I 'm curious to know, for never have I seen you unfold your bundles nor show your wares to any man. Let me see the precious things you have concealed, for maybe I will choose to buy." There was a faint smile in the old man's eyes as he took a bun- dle from the ass's back. He put it on the ground, and untying the string began to separate the rags. For some mo- until the end was ments he continued, 17 3AeVmdofof$)feam6 reached; there was nothing within. He calmly proceeded to take down a jar which he uncovered. The woman leaned forward and peered into its depths. She drew back and lifting her lustrous glance to the old man's face, exclaimed : "You silly fool! What do you mean by offering nothing for sale? Begone with your old ass!" With calmness the Ancient of Days re- plied: "I have wares to sell for which, Oh woman! you would barter your greatest treasure. I am a seller of dreams." And the woman laughed loud and long. " Your wits need mending, old addlepate," she cried. "I want more than dreams. I want substance, real substance, gold, real gold"; and, after a pause, "Love, real love! I'd sell my soul for love." "I can give you all, oh, daughter! All! Anything you wish," quavered the old mer- chant. "Thou art mad, indeed!" and she threw her head back with a derisive laugh, show- ing her even white teeth, and pushing the heavy braids of hair from either side her oval face. "You mock me! Give me back then my splendor of beauty, my glory! my passion! my hope! my heart's desire! Halt the footsteps of the years, restore the sweets of long ago, my mother's smile, my child- 18 3&e. VmdrfrfSbfwmA hood days; the dear of heart whose eyes are glazed in death. "Canst thou then backward turn the wheel of Life, Oh, Wise One! and return to me lost youth! lost joys! lost faith! lost honor?" and she laughed again, her low derisive laugh. "If thou canst do this I will pay thee thy price — the full price — oh mad Vendor of Dreams." "All this I promise, my daughter; for what is life but a fitful dream, soon passed. The dreamer possesses the earth. For in dreams the beggar becomes a king — the broken-hearted are made whole — the blind see, the deaf hear, and those whom death has parted meet again in radiant joy. In my precious dreams I restore lost youth, lost faith, lost honor; and bring love's fiercest passion back to withered hearts." "Speak, woman, wilt thou buy my wares, for others wait." "Indeed, old man, thou dost promise over much; but if thou bringest to me the last, even if only of the smallest fraction, I will sell to thee my soul." "According to thy desire, so be it," and 19 Ufa, Vmdofrf 2>feam& the Ancient of Days stretched forth his arm and touched her with the tip of his rod. Immediately the soul of that woman freed itself from her body, and flew as a bird from its cage. Two children, a boy and a girl, stood ankle deep in the soft, dewy grass, pelting each other with great hands-full of pink- petaled apple blossoms. Their lithe, deli- cate bodies showing golden in the morning sun were naked, save for a white cloth twisted around their loins. Their happy laughter filled the air, while they chased each other between the trees in the orchard which lay on the slope of the hill. "Come Thera!" the boy cried, "let me crown you with this wreath," and he put upon the burnished curls of the girl a wreath of the apple blossoms he had twined together. "You are my queen," he said, "and when I grow up I'll be a king and make you a real queen, for I love you! only you." The girl bent her head for the diadem of flowers, and laughing, said: "Ah! when you're a king, Agathon, no other shall be your queen, for I love you, too. We'll always, always be together," and, clasping each other's hands, they flew down the 20 UAeVmdofcf g)f€am. hill at the sound of a voice calling from a low white house at the foot, buried in dark green trees. The fluted columns of a temple to Vesta glistened white in the distance between the branches of the thick grove which surrounded it, while the slanting rays of the setting sun pierced the forest with long fingers of light, which here and there touched a leaf, or festooned vine, illuminating and defin- ing each from its companions with a separate glory and glint of color. Underneath the trees two walked as one with arms entwined and heads close touch- ing. There was silence between this maiden and youth, but it was a silence which was pregnant with unspoken hopes, unvoiced de- sires, and delirious longings. The very air around them seemed vibrant with fitful strains of music. "Thera!" whispered the youth Agathon: "Do you remember when we were children, how we promised to love each other for- ever, and to be always together? And now!" She turned her eyes, suffused with tears, upon the youth, "Oh, Agathon! It was not by my will that I was snatched from you and promised to the service of our Virgin Vesta. Seven years have passed, seven long years, since I, a child, was brought 21 9fo Vmdofof&fecmd to yonder temple and taught to light and keep the sacred fire burning. In all that time I have not ceased to think of you, Agathon. But alas! for thirty years I must perform this service, according to my vow." "That cursed vow," hoarsely whispered Agathon, under his breath. "You were mine before. By the Gods! you were always mine from the time when your dear eyes first unclosed upon this darkened world. You shall be mine again. I swear it!" and he took the sobbing maiden into his arms and pressed her close to his beating heart. "Fly with me by night; I'll hide thee by day. We will go to another land and live our life." Her face paled to an ashy grey. "I can- not!" she gasped. She shivered and paused in deep thought. "Thirty long years," she murmured, "my young life gone." Lifting her head,' she cried, "My soul is free, why chain my body to this living death?" 22 SHU Vrndrfof ' 2)fwmA She started back as if a sudden precipice had yawned at her feet ready to engulf her. "What is it, Thera? What!" "The penalty! The awful penalty! Do you know that if a Vestal Virgin break her vow of chastity, she's buried alive! Think! Buried alive!" and her voice ended in a whisper of terror. She folded her veil across her face and bowed her head. Ag- athon drew her to him: "Have courage, Thera! You are my soul. You are my other self made visible in matchless form. I will not live without you." She threw herself into his arms. "Our lives began together and will end together," she sobbed. " We cannot be divided." So these two, blind and drunk in each other's presence and intoxicated with their love, sealed their fate with a long kiss. "Come!" he said, and he took her by the hand. Far above in the dark blue sky, a single brilliant star sprang into being. The cooing of the turtle doves had almost ceased. The voices of the grove had died away, and the insects of the night were sleepily calling one to another. Hand in hand the two, as one, softly disappeared into the shadow. 23 JAe, VmcfofofSDreamd Her white robes torn, her veil rent, Thera, the beautiful Vestal Virgin, was being car- ried to her doom; the rabble followed jeer- ing; some were sobbing in pity for the lovely maiden, yet scarce daring, seeing she had braved the law and sinned against the Gods. Her awful doom had come. The sentence It was in June, when the Vestalia were held in honor of the goddess; but the loveliest of all the Virgins was now to be buried in a subterranean vault outside the gates of Delphi. A light, a scanty supply of bread and water, milk and oil, were placed within the tomb, which yawned to engulf this young soul who had loved o'er much. They took her on a bier as one dead; a white cloth was spread over her, and a few flowers. She lay immovable until they lowered the bier to place her in the vault. One wild shriek of agony rent the air, and the door was closed and sealed with the seal of the Pontifex. 24 3A& Vmdofrf&feamti An hour after, at the dusk, a runner all but spent, catching his breath as if each one might be his last, tottering, gasping, groaning, flung himself upon the sealed door of the vault. "Thera!" he cried, "Thera! I come!" and he plunged a dagger in his heart up to the hilt. The woman stirred uneasily in her sleep, opening her eyes she looked around with wonder at her old room. Was this then a dream; that she met an old, old man who touched her with his rod? She rubbed her eyes, arose and peered through the lattice window above the door. The old man and his ass had disappeared. She laughed and sobbed. "Oh, Wise One, I'll pay thee thrice over, to feel that same fierce joy again, to live it through once more. Ah! that was Love — true Love!" "Which is the real life, Oh, Ancient of Days, and which the dream?" But the old man, who alone could have told her, was already far beyond the city's gates. 25 CHILD OF THE IMMORTALS CHILD OF THE IMMORTALS As the "Aged One" with his ass stopped at a well, to slake his thirst and that of the patient beast, he saw a man sitting on a rock near by with his head bowed between his hands. So still was he that one might think he was carven out of the selfsame rock. The "Vendor of Dreams" cast a penetrating glance upon him and the man raised his head. He too laughed as his eyes rested on the sorry pair before him. "What have you for sale, old merchant- jars of oil, and water for the thirsty?" "Aye, brother! Even so! I have here that which will quench the thirst of your desires, and I'll wager you, the wares that I can sell are more precious than life itself." The man stood up. "What mean you, stranger? What can your jars and water- skins hold but oil and water?" "Even so, Brother, oil and water, oil for the wounded spirit and water for the thirsty soul," and the old man smiled. "Will you drink!" he asked. "Wounded in spirit and thirsty of soul, Old Man, am I, but you speak in riddles." 29 "What is life then but a riddle? I am a 'Vendor of Dreams V' said the aged One. "I want no dreams, old Sage. I've dreamed enough. I want reality, here and now, upon this scarred old earth, where all seems twisted and awry. Where the wicked seem to triumph and the good go unrepaid." "Little Brother," replied the Wise One, "truly this life on earth is a horrible re- ality, but beyond the gate of Death is the world of Peace eternal; between the two lies the kingdom of our dreams. "We enter this kingdom not only by night but by day, and the dreams we dream by day are our only salvation." "You mock me, merchant! Of what util- ity are dreams? They serve to cheat us for a while, but when we face the stern reality of the Cosmos which hems us in, we want no dreams, we want the true"; and the man clasped his hands until the cords stood out upon them. "Peace, Brother," cried the Ancient One. "7 have said, the [Dreamer possesses the Earth." And the man pondered deeply. At length, lifting his head, he spoke. "I've dreamed glorious dreams for my country, of a State where the Ruler ruled with love, when gold and gain were naught, and sacrifice was joy. And I have thought 30 to stem that mighty 'sea of sorrow formed of the tears of men.' "What good, Ancient One, was it to dream thus greatly ; what good to think high thoughts? I've failed, I've failed," and the man flung himself on the rock in a passion of regret, and buried his face in his hands. The Vendor of Dreams drew near. ' ' Child of the Immortals, cease thy grief. Thou hast not failed. Thou shalt yet behold with undimmed sight the fabric of thy dreams, reared high, and built within a deathless world. "Thou shalt live once more thy vision in the great Beyond, and dream it o'er and o'er again, until it shall be real in the world of men." And the Ancient "Vendor of Dreams" stretched forth his hand, and touching the man with the tip of his rod, he sank in deep slumber upon the rock. Meanwhile the Wizard Great passed slowly on his old appointed way and left the sleeper there with darkened eyes, with muffled ears and silent speech, but straight before his eager undimmed soul there stretched a splendid vision of his coming Quest. 31 THE QUEST THE QUEST The man lay slumbering upon the earth, in deep forgetfulness, while a brooding si- lence, heavy with darkness, enveloped him as with a cloak. Close upon the night, when the sun with- drew his splendor, Death came and looked on him with envious eyes. "Come! Come!" he cried, "Awake! Awake and go with me!" Drawing near, he touched a spot of light which dimly shone between the brows of the sleeper; then stooped and curiously gazed into his face. "Not yet," he whispered, "not yet. The Lord of life hath passed this way." And envious Death, with noiseless feet, with- drew into the shadowy mist. ******* "Aha! Aha!" the maskers cried, "what have we here? Let's wake the sleeper." They dragged him up, wreathing his head with purple grapes. They pressed the red wine to his lips. He staggered forward with half-closed eyes, and clutched their outstretched hands in wonder. "Awake!" they shouted, "who sleeps while the sun is high? Come where flowers, red and blue, upon the hillside grow." "Come 35 UfaV*ndc/rf3)feim& within the forest deep, where cool streams murmur in the shade and the silver trout leap in the brook. Soft lips are pressed to ours, and softer eyes drop golden glances while the pipers play. Joy thrills the air, why waste the time in slumber?" He gazed upon them with his troubled eyes. "My Quest!" he cried, "I seek — I seek — what do I seek?" And they laughed in his face. "All the world seeks happiness, so do we; and thou fool, go with us, and find thy Quest." Then the man, full-primed, joined with the maskers' song and danced beneath the shining sun, as one who had no care. On the hills and through the dells their happy laughter thrilled until the echoes fled from peak to peak and died within the purple distance. At length, with burning heart, the man sought love. "Is this my Quest?" he thought, and forthwith plunged into the Sea of Life. The booming waves dashed high the flotsam and jetsam upon the rocky shore, and beat each human fragment out upon the cruel stones. With pitiful cries these fragments rose again and yet again, and, plunging back into the living sea, they drank once more its bitter waters dry. He joined the throng. Forward he pressed with flaming heart and eager eyes. The love-light in each woman's glance the bea- con was which drew him to the ends of earth. Here a smile and there a look, anon snared in a golden mesh of rippling hair, or caught upon twin coral lips as a butterfly upon a flower. He dallied while soft hands beckoned him, and held him with their magic power. There was he, where the wine flowed red, and the rose blushed red, and red were the mouths of women, who cried to him, "Oh! follow, follow us, we'll lead thee on to Paradise!" He tarried with them many a day, from the rosy sun of morn to the blood-red sun of eve. For them he wasted life and strength; he gave his red blood up in many a strife, in many a battle fought — the guerdon was, a woman's smile. Was Love that flaming star which ever shone, rose-red before him? "Yes! Yes! here is my Quest!" he cried — and the women with red mouths smiled back at him. "I follow you to Paradise!" And he pursued the women, who ran forward with fleet feet, and mellow songs, with glancing smiles and beckoning hands. "Come, come," they sang, "with us, with us, to Paradise." ******* 37 JAe V