The Lady Or The Tiger? by Frank Stockton
In the very olden time there lived a semi-barbaric king, whose
ideas, though somewhat polished and sharpened by the progressiveness of distant
Latin neighbors, were still large, florid, and untrammeled, as became the half
of him which was barbaric. He was a man of exuberant fancy, and, withal, of an
authority so irresistible that, at his will, he turned his varied fancies into
facts. He was greatly given to self-communing, and, when he and himself agreed
upon anything, the thing was done. When every member of his domestic and
political systems moved smoothly in its appointed course, his nature was bland
and genial; but, whenever there was a little hitch, and some of his orbs got
out of their orbits, he was blander and more genial still, for nothing pleased
him so much as to make the crooked straight and crush down uneven places.
Among
the borrowed notions by which his barbarism had become semified was that of the
public arena, in which, by exhibitions of manly and beastly valor, the minds of
his subjects were refined and cultured.
But
even here the exuberant and barbaric fancy asserted itself. The arena of the
king was built, not to give the people an opportunity of hearing the rhapsodies
of dying gladiators, nor to enable them to view the inevitable conclusion of a
conflict between religious opinions and hungry jaws, but for purposes far
better adapted to widen and develop the mental energies of the people. This
vast amphitheater, with its encircling galleries, its mysterious vaults, and
its unseen passages, was an agent of poetic justice, in which crime was
punished, or virtue rewarded, by the decrees of an impartial and incorruptible
chance.
When a
subject was accused of a crime of sufficient importance to interest the king,
public notice was given that on an appointed day the fate of the accused person
would be decided in the king's arena, a structure which well deserved its name,
for, although its form and plan were borrowed from afar, its purpose emanated
solely from the brain of this man, who, every barleycorn a king, knew no
tradition to which he owed more allegiance than pleased his fancy, and who
ingrafted on every adopted form of human thought and action the rich growth of
his barbaric idealism.
||2||
When all the people had assembled in the galleries, and the king,
surrounded by his court, sat high up on his throne of royal state on one side
of the arena, he gave a signal, a door beneath him opened, and the accused
subject stepped out into the amphitheater. Directly opposite him, on the other
side of the enclosed space, were two doors, exactly alike and side by side. It
was the duty and the privilege of the person on trial to walk directly to these
doors and open one of them. He could open either door he pleased; he was
subject to no guidance or influence but that of the aforementioned impartial
and incorruptible chance. If he opened the one, there came out of it a hungry
tiger, the fiercest and most cruel that could be procured, which immediately
sprang upon him and tore him to pieces as a punishment for his guilt. The
moment that the case of the criminal was thus decided, doleful iron bells were
clanged, great wails went up from the hired mourners posted on the outer rim of
the arena, and the vast audience, with bowed heads and downcast hearts, wended
slowly their homeward way, mourning greatly that one so young and fair, or so
old and respected, should have merited so dire a fate.
But, if
the accused person opened the other door, there came forth from it a lady, the
most suitable to his years and station that his majesty could select among his
fair subjects, and to this lady he was immediately married, as a reward of his
innocence. It mattered not that he might already possess a wife and family, or
that his affections might be engaged upon an object of his own selection; the
king allowed no such subordinate arrangements to interfere with his great
scheme of retribution and reward. The exercises, as in the other instance, took
place immediately, and in the arena. Another door opened beneath the king, and
a priest, followed by a band of choristers, and dancing maidens blowing joyous
airs on golden horns and treading an epithalamic measure, advanced to where the
pair stood, side by side, and the wedding was promptly and cheerily solemnized.
Then the gay brass bells rang forth their merry peals, the people shouted glad
hurrahs, and the innocent man, preceded by children strewing flowers on his
path, led his bride to his home.
||3||
This was the king's semi-barbaric method of administering justice.
Its perfect fairness is obvious. The criminal could not know out of which door
would come the lady; he opened either he pleased, without having the slightest
idea whether, in the next instant, he was to be devoured or married. On some
occasions the tiger came out of one door, and on some out of the other. The
decisions of this tribunal were not only fair, they were positively
determinate: the accused person was instantly punished if he found himself
guilty, and, if innocent, he was rewarded on the spot, whether he liked it or
not. There was no escape from the judgments of the king's arena.
The
institution was a very popular one. When the people gathered together on one of
the great trial days, they never knew whether they were to witness a bloody
slaughter or a hilarious wedding. This element of uncertainty lent an interest
to the occasion which it could not otherwise have attained. Thus, the masses
were entertained and pleased, and the thinking part of the community could
bring no charge of unfairness against this plan, for did not the accused person
have the whole matter in his own hands?
This
semi-barbaric king had a daughter as blooming as his most florid fancies, and
with a soul as fervent and imperious as his own. As is usual in such cases, she
was the apple of his eye, and was loved by him above all humanity. Among his
courtiers was a young man of that fineness of blood and lowness of station
common to the conventional heroes of romance who love royal maidens. This royal
maiden was well satisfied with her lover, for he was handsome and brave to a
degree unsurpassed in all this kingdom, and she loved him with an ardor that
had enough of barbarism in it to make it exceedingly warm and strong. This love
affair moved on happily for many months, until one day the king happened to
discover its existence. He did not hesitate nor waver in regard to his duty in
the premises. The youth was immediately cast into prison, and a day was
appointed for his trial in the king's arena. This, of course, was an especially
important occasion, and his majesty, as well as all the people, was greatly
interested in the workings and development of this trial. Never before had such
a case occurred; never before had a subject dared to love the daughter of the
king. In after years such things became commonplace enough, but then they were
in no slight degree novel and startling.
||4||
The tiger-cages of the kingdom were searched for the most savage
and relentless beasts, from which the fiercest monster might be selected for
the arena; and the ranks of maiden youth and beauty throughout the land were
carefully surveyed by competent judges in order that the young man might have a
fitting bride in case fate did not determine for him a different destiny. Of
course, everybody knew that the deed with which the accused was charged had
been done. He had loved the princess, and neither he, she, nor any one else,
thought of denying the fact; but the king would not think of allowing any fact
of this kind to interfere with the workings of the tribunal, in which he took
such great delight and satisfaction. No matter how the affair turned out, the
youth would be disposed of, and the king would take an aesthetic pleasure in
watching the course of events, which would determine whether or not the young
man had done wrong in allowing himself to love the princess.
The
appointed day arrived. From far and near the people gathered, and thronged the
great galleries of the arena, and crowds, unable to gain admittance, massed
themselves against its outside walls. The king and his court were in their
places, opposite the twin doors, those fateful portals, so terrible in their
similarity.
All was
ready. The signal was given. A door beneath the royal party opened, and the
lover of the princess walked into the arena. Tall, beautiful, fair, his
appearance was greeted with a low hum of admiration and anxiety. Half the
audience had not known so grand a youth had lived among them. No wonder the
princess loved him! What a terrible thing for him to be there!
As the
youth advanced into the arena he turned, as the custom was, to bow to the king,
but he did not think at all of that royal personage. His eyes were fixed upon
the princess, who sat to the right of her father. Had it not been for the
moiety of barbarism in her nature it is probable that lady would not have been
there, but her intense and fervid soul would not allow her to be absent on an
occasion in which she was so terribly interested. From the moment that the
decree had gone forth that her lover should decide his fate in the king's
arena, she had thought of nothing, night or day, but this great event and the
various subjects connected with it. Possessed of more power, influence, and
force of character than any one who had ever before been interested in such a
case, she had done what no other person had done - she had possessed herself of
the secret of the doors. She knew in which of the two rooms, that lay behind
those doors, stood the cage of the tiger, with its open front, and in which
waited the lady. Through these thick doors, heavily curtained with skins on the
inside, it was impossible that any noise or suggestion should come from within
to the person who should approach to raise the latch of one of them. But gold,
and the power of a woman's will, had brought the secret to the princess.
||5||
And not only did she know in which room stood the lady ready to
emerge, all blushing and radiant, should her door be opened, but she knew who
the lady was. It was one of the fairest and loveliest of the damsels of the
court who had been selected as the reward of the accused youth, should he be proved
innocent of the crime of aspiring to one so far above him; and the princess
hated her. Often had she seen, or imagined that she had seen, this fair
creature throwing glances of admiration upon the person of her lover, and
sometimes she thought these glances were perceived, and even returned. Now and
then she had seen them talking together; it was but for a moment or two, but
much can be said in a brief space; it may have been on most unimportant topics,
but how could she know that? The girl was lovely, but she had dared to raise
her eyes to the loved one of the princess; and, with all the intensity of the
savage blood transmitted to her through long lines of wholly barbaric
ancestors, she hated the woman who blushed and trembled behind that silent door.
When
her lover turned and looked at her, and his eye met hers as she sat there,
paler and whiter than any one in the vast ocean of anxious faces about her, he
saw, by that power of quick perception which is given to those whose souls are
one, that she knew behind which door crouched the tiger, and behind which stood
the lady. He had expected her to know it. He understood her nature, and his
soul was assured that she would never rest until she had made plain to herself
this thing, hidden to all other lookers-on, even to the king. The only hope for
the youth in which there was any element of certainty was based upon the
success of the princess in discovering this mystery; and the moment he looked
upon her, he saw she had succeeded, as in his soul he knew she would succeed.
Then it
was that his quick and anxious glance asked the question: "Which?" It
was as plain to her as if he shouted it from where he stood. There was not an
instant to be lost. The question was asked in a flash; it must be answered in
another.
||6||
Her right arm lay on the cushioned parapet before her. She raised
her hand, and made a slight, quick movement toward the right. No one but her
lover saw her. Every eye but his was fixed on the man in the arena.
He
turned, and with a firm and rapid step he walked across the empty space. Every
heart stopped beating, every breath was held, every eye was fixed immovably
upon that man. Without the slightest hesitation, he went to the door on the
right, and opened it.
Now,
the point of the story is this: Did the tiger come out of that door, or did the
lady ?
The
more we reflect upon this question, the harder it is to answer. It involves a
study of the human heart which leads us through devious mazes of passion, out
of which it is difficult to find our way. Think of it, fair reader, not as if
the decision of the question depended upon yourself, but upon that hot-blooded,
semi-barbaric princess, her soul at a white heat beneath the combined fires of
despair and jealousy. She had lost him, but who should have him?
How
often, in her waking hours and in her dreams, had she started in wild horror,
and covered her face with her hands as she thought of her lover opening the
door on the other side of which waited the cruel fangs of the tiger!
But how
much oftener had she seen him at the other door! How in her grievous reveries
had she gnashed her teeth, and torn her hair, when she saw his start of
rapturous delight as he opened the door of the lady! How her soul had burned in
agony when she had seen him rush to meet that woman, with her flushing cheek
and sparkling eye of triumph; when she had seen him lead her forth, his whole
frame kindled with the joy of recovered life; when she had heard the glad
shouts from the multitude, and the wild ringing of the happy bells; when she
had seen the priest, with his joyous followers, advance to the couple, and make
them man and wife before her very eyes; and when she had seen them walk away
together upon their path of flowers, followed by the tremendous shouts of the
hilarious multitude, in which her one despairing shriek was lost and drowned!
||7||
Would it not be better for him to die at once, and go to wait for
her in the blessed regions of semi-barbaric futurity?
And
yet, that awful tiger, those shrieks, that blood!
Her
decision had been indicated in an instant, but it had been made after days and
nights of anguished deliberation. She had known she would be asked, she had
decided what she would answer, and, without the slightest hesitation, she had
moved her hand to the right.
The
question of her decision is one not to be lightly considered, and it is not for
me to presume to set myself up as the one person able to answer it. And so I
leave it with all of you: Which came out of the opened door - the lady, or the
tiger?
