Above and around and about him was all that is most conducive to happiness, but within him were fatigue and desolation.
All that he had ever wished for had been given unto him; never had the gods left unanswered his prayers; other and better men's they turned a deaf ear to, but not so this King's, and now he had nothing more left to crave for.
He had supreme power vested in his hands, but he was indifferent to it; he owned everything that the heart could desire, and those very possessions were killing him.
For the trail of the serpent of satiety lay over his garden of Eden.
Never had his eyes rested on disease or want or poverty, or anything that could distress his mind.
All gifts and graces had been showered upon him; his sins were buried in oblivion, or cited more admiringly than the virtues of others.
When he went abroad on his white elephant, with its trappings of scarlet and silver, the very air was perfumed with otto of rose, while the people bowed and kissed the dust through which he passed.
Attached to the palace were many hundreds of officials, players, dancers, jugglers, and clowns; for the King sought only one thing, and that was—Amusement; of which, in no matter what form it was presented to him, he soon tired.
Constantly was the country being searched for some one with a ready wit, an inventive tongue, or a nimble foot, to pass the hours for the Lord of the City of Gems.
Tellers of marvellous stories, more wonderful than the Arabian Nights, had come, and tried their little best to please.