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"That
plant is a foreigner, no doubt," said the thistles and the burdocks. "We can
never conduct ourselves like that in this country." And the black forest snails
actually spat at the flower. Then came the swineherd; he was collecting thistles
and shrubs to burn them for the ashes. He pulled up the wonderful plant, roots
and all, and placed it in his bundle. "This will be as useful as any," he said;
so the plant was carried away. Not long after, the king of the country suffered
from the deepest melancholy.
Not long after, the king of the country
suffered from the deepest melancholy. He was diligent and industrious, but
employment did him no good. They read deep and learned books to him, and then
the lightest and most trifling that could be found, but all to no purpose. Then
they applied for advice to one of the wise men of the world, and he sent them a
message to say that there was one remedy which would relieve and cure him, and
that it was a plant of heavenly origin which grew in the forest in the king's
own dominions.
The messenger described the flower so that is appearance
could not be mistaken. Then said the swineherd, "I am afraid I carried this
plant away from the forest in my bundle, and it has been burnt to ashes long
ago. But I did not know any better." "You did not know, any better! Ignorance
upon ignorance indeed!" The poor swineherd took these words to heart, for they
were addressed to him; he knew not that there were others who were equally
ignorant. Not even a leaf of the plant could be found.
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