The Singer Mother
by
Once, as Death walked the earth in search of some fair flower upon which he could breathe his icy breath, he met the graceful and pleasing spirit who is called Ambition.
“Good morrow,” quoth Death, “let us journey a time together. Both of us are hale fellows; let us henceforth be travelling companions.”
Now Ambition is one of the most easily cajoled persons in the world. The soft words of Death flattered him. So Death and Ambition set out together, hand in hand.
And having come into a great city, they were walking in a fine street when they beheld at the window of a certain house a lady who was named Griselda. She was sitting at the window, fondling in her lap her child, a beautiful little infant that held out his dimpled arms to the mother and prattled sweet little things which only a mother can understand.
“What a beautiful lady,” said Ambition, “and what a wonderful song she is singing to the child.”
“You may praise the mother as you will,” said Death, “but it is the child which engages my attention and absorbs my admiration. How I wish the child were mine!”
But Ambition continued to regard Griselda with an eye of covetousness; the song Griselda sang to her babe seemed to have exerted a wondrous spell over the spirit.
“I know a way,” suggested Death, “by which we can possess ourselves of these two–you of the mother and I of the child.”
Ambition’s eyes sparkled. He longed for the beautiful mother.
“Tell me how I may win her,” said he to Death, “and you shall have the babe.”
So Death and Ambition walked in the street and talked of Griselda and her child.
Griselda was a famous singer. She sang in the theatre of the great city, and people came from all parts of the world to hear her songs and join in her praise. Such a voice had never before been heard, and Griselda’s fame was equalled only by the riches which her art had brought her. In the height of her career the little babe came to make her life all the sweeter, and Griselda was indeed very happy.
“Who is that at the door?” inquired Charlotte, the old nurse. “It must be somebody of consequence, for he knocks with a certain confidence only those in authority have.”
“Go to the door and see,” said Griselda.
So Charlotte went to the door, and lo, there was a messenger from the king, and the messenger was accompanied by two persons attired in royal robes.
These companions were Ambition and Death, but they were so splendidly arrayed you never would have recognized them.
“Does the Lady Griselda abide here?” asked the messenger.
“She does,” replied old Charlotte, courtesying very low, for the brilliant attire of the strangers dazzled her.
“I have a message from the king,” said the messenger.
Old Charlotte could hardly believe her ears. A message from the king! Never before had such an honor befallen one in Griselda’s station.
The message besought Griselda to appear in the theatre that night before the king, who knew of her wondrous voice, but had never heard it. And with the message came a royal gift of costly jewels, the like of which Griselda had never set eyes upon.
“You cannot refuse,” said Ambition in a seductive voice. “Such an opportunity never before was accorded you and may never again be offered. It is the king for whom you are to sing!”
Griselda hesitated and cast a lingering look at her babe.
“Have no fear for the child,” said Death, “for I will care for him while you are gone.”
So, between the insinuating advice of Ambition and the fair promises of Death, Griselda was persuaded, and the messenger bore back to the king word that Griselda would sing for him that night.
But Ambition and Death remained as guests in Griselda’s household.