was thinking how he should execute Lailie, when suddenly he heard a rustling near his bed, and opening his eyes saw an old man with a long gray beard and mild eyes.
'You wish to execute Lailie?' asked the old man.
'Yes,' answered the King. 'But I cannot make up my mind how to do it.'
'But you are Lailie,' said the old man.
'That's not true,' replied the King. 'Lailie is Lailie, and I am I.'
'You and Lailie are one,' said the old man. 'You only imagine you are not Lailie, and that Lailie is not you.'
'What do you mean by that?' said the King. 'Here am I, lying on a soft bed; around me are obedient men-slaves and women-slaves, and to-morrow I shall feast with my friends as I did to-day; whereas Lailie is sitting like a bird in a cage, and to-morrow he will be impaled, and with his tongue hanging out will struggle till he dies, and his body will be torn in pieces by dogs.'
'You cannot destroy his life,' said the old man.
'And how about the fourteen thousand warriors I killed, with whose bodies I built a mound?' said the King. 'I am alive, but they no longer exist. Does not that prove that I can destroy life?'
'How do you know they no longer exist?'
'Because I no longer see them. And, above all, they were tormented, but I was not. It was ill for them, but well for me.'
'That, also, only seems so to you. You tortured yourself, but not them.'
'I do not understand,' said the King.
'Do you wish to understand?'
'Yes, I do.'
'Then come here,' said the old man, pointing to a large font full of water.
The King rose and approached the font.
'Strip, and enter the font.'
Esarhaddon did as the old man bade him.
