And when they had entered the dwelling-place he removed his reeds from them. Immediately they sank down into the state of apathy in which he had found them. They did not move.
And the king at nightfall sought again the side of the ravine.
Gazing across it he saw the sandy waste of the land from which he had come, he saw the great stones which were scattered about, looking pale and grey in the moonlight. And presently in the shadow of a rock near the opposite brink he discerned the form of the old man.
And he cried out to him, and bade him come near. And when the old man stood opposite to him, he besought him to tell him how he could make the beings go through their movements of life without his bearing so much pain.
And the old man took his staff in his hand, and he held it out towards the king, over the depth.
“Behold, O king, thy secret,” he cried. And with his other hand he smote the staff which was pointing down into the depths. The staff swung to and fro many times, and at last it came to rest again.
Then the king besought him to explain what this might signify.
“Thou hast been,” replied the old man, “as one who, wishing to make a staff swing to and fro, has made every movement separately, raising it up by his hand each time that it falls down. But, behold, when I set it in movement it goes through many swings of itself, both downward and upward, until the movement I imparted to it is lost. Even so thou must make these beings go through both pleasure and pain, thyself bearing but the difference, not taking all the pain.”
“Must I then,” asked the king, “by bearing pain give these beings a certain store of pleasure, and then let them go through their various actions until they have exhausted this store of pleasure?”
Then the old man made answer. “Can I have any secrets from thee? Hearken, O king, and I will tell thee what lies behind the shows of the world. What I have shown thee is an outward sign and symbol of what thou shouldst do, but it lies far outside those recesses whither I shall lead thee. Thou couldst indeed give these beings a store of pleasure, and they would go through their actions until it was all spent; but then thou wouldst be as one of themselves. Thou wouldst have to perform the painful part of some action and let them perform the pleasant part, and thus thou wouldst be immersed in the same chain of actions wherein they were. For regard my staff as it begins to swing. It is not I that make the movement that is imparted to it; that movement lay stored up in my arm, and when I struck the staff with my arm it was as if I had let another staff fall which in its falling gave up its movement to the one I held in my hand.”