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THE STORY OF THE SEVEN SIMONS
43

The brothers bowed and said: ‘As the king wills.’ Suddenly the king remembered that he had not questioned the seventh Simon, so he turned to him and said: ‘Why are you silent? What is your handicraft?’

And the seventh Simon answered: ‘I have no handicraft, O king; I have learnt nothing. I could not manage it. And if I do know how to do anything it is not what might properly be called a real trade—it is rather a sort of performance; but it is one which no one—not the king himself—must watch me doing, and I doubt whether this performance of mine would please your Majesty.’

‘Come, come,’ cried the king; ‘I will have no excuses, what is this trade?’

‘First, sire, give me your royal word that you will not kill me when I have told you. Then you shall hear.’

‘So be it, then; I give you my royal word.’

Then the seventh Simon stepped back a little, cleared his throat, and said: ‘My trade, King Archidej, is of such a kind that the man who follows it in your kingdom generally loses his life and has no hopes of pardon. There is only one thing I can do really well, and that is—to steal, and to hide the smallest scrap of anything I have stolen. Not the deepest vault, even if its lock were enchanted, could prevent my stealing anything out of it that I wished to have.’

When the king heard this he fell into a passion. ‘I will not pardon you, you rascal,’ he cried; ‘I will shut you up in my deepest dungeon on bread and water till you have forgotten such a trade. Indeed, it would be better to put you to death at once, and I’ve a good mind to do so.’

‘Don’t kill me, O king! I am really not as bad as you think. Why, had I chosen, I could have robbed the royal treasury, have bribed your judges to let me off, and built a white marble palace with what was left. But though I know how to steal I don’t do it. You yourself