A House of Pomegranates

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Oscar Wilde

A House of Pomegranates

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“Our master!’ cried the weaver, bitterly. “He is a man like myself. Indeed, there is but this difference between us–that he wears fine clothes while I go in rags, and that while I am weak from hunger he suffers not a little from overfeeding.’

“The land is free,’ said the young King, “and thou art no man’s slave.’

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