Just before the old king died, he sent for his grandson who was going to take his place. Until that moment, the lad had never seen his grandfather. This was because the old king had been angry with his daughter, the boy's mother, and had sent her away from the palace. She had gone into the forest, a long way off, and there her baby was born. She gave the baby to a poor man and his wife who lived in a cottage nearby. They were kind to him and looked after him as if he were their own son. Now he was sixteen years old and had become a tall, handsome lad.

When he came to the palace, he was dressed as a poor shepherd boy with a crook in his hand. He opened his eyes wide when he saw how beautifully all the men and women were dressed. Everything was very grand after the poor hut he had been used to. He gazed at the rich carpets and curtains, the pictures on the walls, the golden candlesticks, the silver vases full of flowers, the silk cushions and pretty ornaments.

He was pleased when they took away his old coat and shepherd's crook and gave him nice new things to wear.

"Now you look like a prince," they said. And indeed he did!

When they told him that he was to be their new king, he could think of nothing but what he would wear on the day that he was to be crowned. He wanted a robe woven of gold treads and a crown with red rubies. As for the sceptre which he would hold in his hand when he sat on the throne, it must have a ring of real pearls at the top. The night before he was to be crowned, he lay awake thinking of these things, and when at last he fell asleep he began to dream.

He dreamed that he was in a very big room where a lot of men, women and children were working. It seemed to be a kind of factory, and the people were standing at looms weaving cloth. They were poor and dressed in rags. Children sat under the looms so that they could tie the ends of the threads with their tiny fingers if any of them snapped. They had white faces and thin arms, and they looked as if they did not get much to eat. The room was noisy with the clatter of the looms, but no one was talking or laughing. The young king stood close to one of the weavers to see what he was doing.

"Why are you looking at me?" asked the man. "Has our master sent you to spy on us?"

"Who is you master?" said the young king.

"He is a man like me, but he had fine clothes to wear while I go in rags. He had more food than he can eat, but my children go hungry," replied the man.

"Why do you work for him then?" asked the young king. "You are not a slave."

"You think I am free," replied the man, "but I am like a slave because I am poor. I must do this work or starve."

As the man talked, he did not stop weaving. The shuttle flew to and fro and the young king saw that the thread was of gold. "Who is this for?" he asked.

"For the young king who is to be crowned tomorrow," replied the man. "We must work fast or it won't be done in time."

When the young king heard this, he cried out to the man to stop. That woke him up. He saw the moon shining through his bedroom window so he knew it was still night. He turned over and went to sleep again. Once more he began to dream.

This time he was on the deck of a ship, which was being rowed by a hundred black slaves with chains on their legs. In the middle sat a man with a long ship. If a slave stopped rowing even for a moment, he whipped his bare back. Soon they came to a little bay, and here they dropped anchor and took down the sail.

Then one man was made to dive into the sea. When he came up he had a pearl in his hand. The master of the galley took it from his and, with a crack of his whip, made him dive again. Each time the man came up with a pearl, the master took it and put it in a little bag. Over and over again the poor man dived. Each time it took him longer, and each time he came up he looked more tired. The last pearl he brought up was the biggest and best. The master took it from him, saying, "This will be in the centre of the ring of pearls on the young king's sceptre, tomorrow!" Then he told his slaves to pull up the anchor and row as hard as they could. They left the diver behind—because he had died.

In his sleep the young king gave a loud cry and woke himself up. But he saw the stars in the night sky through his window so he went back to sleep, and dreamed again.

He dreamed that he was alone and walking through a wood. Then he came to a place where there had once been a river, but it was now dry and there no water in it. Here, in the river-bed, were hundreds of men hunting in the sand. The sun beat down on their heads and they seemed to be very tired, but they did not stop. He could not see what they were looking for, but every now and then a man would fall down, and not get up again. This happened many times, and the young king knew that they were dead. Then black vultures came flocking in the sky overhead, and out of the slime and mud at the bottom of the valley came dragons and horrible snakes. The young king was afraid.

"Who are these men and what are they looking for?" he called.

"They are trying to find red rubies for a king's crown," replied a voice behind him.

He turned round and saw a man with a mirror in his hand. "For what king?" he asked.

The man held up the mirror. "Look—and you will see him," he said. When the young king saw his own face, he gave a loud cry and woke up once more. Now it was morning, and the sun was shining through the window.

Then into his bedroom came the officers of state. They bowed to him and called the page boys to bring in the robe of gold thread, the crown and the sceptre for the young king to see. He looked at them and saw that they were very beautiful. Then he thought of his three dreams and said, "Take these things away! I will not wear them."

They thought he was saying that for fun so they did not go. But he said again, "Take them away! This robe was woven on the loom of pain. There is blood in the heart of the ruby, and death in the heart of the pearls." And he told them his three dreams.

They looked at one another and said, "He must be mad! A dream is only a dream. What had that to do with these things?"

And one said to him, "My lord, you must put on this robe. How will the people know that you are our king if you do not dress like one?"

"Is a king only a king when he wears a crown?" asked the young king. "I thought he must always be a king in his ways. But you may be right. Anyway I will not wear this robe, nor will I be crowned with this crown." And he sent them all away, except for one page boy.

"Please bring me the clothes I wore when I first came here," he told him. Then he put them on and took the shepherd's crook in his hand.

"But, my lord, you have no crown," said the page boy.

So the young king picked a spray of the red roses that were growing round the window of his room He bent it into a circle and put it on his head. "This is my crown," he said.

Then he went into the great hall where all the nobles were waiting for him. When they saw him they cried, "My lord! The people wait for their king, but you look like a beggar. You bring shame on us all."

He did not answer them, but walked down the stairs and out of the gates. Here he got on his horse and rode to the cathedral. The little page boy ran beside him.

All the people in the street laughed and said, "It is the king's fool! He is playing a joke on us!"

But the young king stopped his horse and said to them, "No, I am your king." And he told them his three dreams. They did not understand him, and one man said, "How will it help us if you don't wear the gold cloak? Rich men made work for us poor ones, and if we can't work, we starve!"

"There must be a better way, and I will find it," replied the young king. And he rode on.

When he came to the great porch of the cathedral the soldiers who were on duty stopped him saying, "You can't go in. No one can enter by this door but the young king."

"I am your king!" he replied, and pushed their swords aside.

The bishop who was waiting to crown his said, "Why do you come dressed as a beggar? I cannot crown you until you put on your gold robe."

"How can you say that in this house?" replied the young king. "Do you forget that our Lord was the son of a poor carpenter and born in a manger?" And he told the bishop his three dreams.

"My son," said the bishop sadly, "I am an old man and I know that there are many bad things in this world. But you cannot stop them. So go back and put on the gold robe, then I will crown you and put this sceptre of pearls in your hand."

The young king strode past the bishop and went up the steps of the high altar. There he knelt to pray with the white candles burning around him. And while he knelt, soldiers came in with their swords, shouting, "Where is this beggar king? Kill him! He is not fit to rule over us!"

Then the young king rose to his feet and turned to face them. And lo! through the stained glass windows the sunlight streamed upon him and the sunbeams wove about him a robe that was much more beautiful than the golden robe that had been made for him. The shepherd's crook that he held in his hand blossomed with lilies that were whiter than the pearls in the sceptre. And redder than any rubies were the roses in the crown that he were upon his head.

As he stood there, looking every inch a king, the soldiers put up their swords and knelt in awe. The bishop said, "One greater than I has crowned you."

Then the trumpets sounded, and as the choir-boys burst into song, the young king came down from the high altar. But no man dared to look upon his face, for it was like the face of an angel.