“What do you mean by that?” said the King. “Here am I, lying on a soft bed; around me are obedient men-slaves and women-slaves, and tomorrow I shall feast with my friends as I did today; whereas Lailie is sitting like a bird in a cage, and tomorrow he will be impaled, and with his tongue hanging out will struggle till he dies, and his body will be torn in pieces by dogs.”

“You cannot destroy his life,” said the old man.

“And how about the fourteen thousand warriors I killed, with whose bodies I built a mound?” said the King. “I am alive, but they no longer exist. Does not that prove that I can destroy life?”

“How do you know they no longer exist?”

“Because I no longer see them. And, above all, they were tormented, but I was not. It was ill for them, but well for me.”

“That, also, only seems so to you. You tortured yourself, but not them.”