I can play upon my harp a strain of such
surpassing sadness that no human heart that hears it but must break.
And yet the pain of that heartbreak shall be such that thou wilt not
know it from rapture. Moreover, when the sun sets below the water, my
spirit also will depart without suffering. Wherefore I beg of thee,
let us die to-day."
"Truly," said the hermit, "it is because thou art only a Neck, and
nothing better, that thou dost not know the value of human life."
"And art thou a man, possessed already of a soul, and destined for
immortality," cried the Neck, "and dost haggle and grudge to benefit
me by the sacrifice of a few uncertain days, when it is but to
exchange them for the life that knows no end?"
"Our days are always uncertain," replied the hermit; "but existence is
very sweet, even to the most wretched. Moreover, I see not that thou
hast any claim upon mine." Saying which he returned to his cell, but
the Neck, flinging aside his harp, sat upon the water, and wept
bitterly.
Days passed, and the hermit did not show himself, and at last the Neck
resolved to go and visit him. So he took his harp, and taking also the
form of a boy with long fair hair and a crimson cap, he appeared in
the hermit's cell. There he found the old man stretched upon his
pallet, for lie was dying. When he saw the Neck he was glad, and said,
"I have desired to see thee, for I repent myself that I did not
according to thy wishes.
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