(After Idries Shah) In the city of which I sing There was a just and placid King. The King proclaimed an arch should be Constructed, that triumphally Would span the major thoroughfare To edify spectators there. The workmen went and built the thing. They did so since he was the King. The King rode down the thoroughfare To edify spectators there. Under the arch he lost his crown. The arch was built too low. A frown Appeared upon his placid face. The King said, ‘This is a disgrace. The chief of builders will be hanged.’ The rope and gallows were arranged. The chief of builders was led out. He passed the King. He gave a shout, ‘O King, it was the workmen’s fault’ ‘Oh!’ said the King, and called a halt To the proceedings. Being just (And placider now) he said, ‘I must Have all the workmen hanged instead.’ The workmen looked surprised, and said, ‘O King, you do not realise The bricks were made of the wrong size.’ ‘Summon the masons!’ said the King. The masons stood there quivering. ‘It was the architect...’, they said, The architect was summoned. ‘Well, architect,’ said His Majesty. ‘I do ordain that you shall be Hanged.’ Said the architect, ‘O King, You have forgotten one small thing. You made certain amendments to The plans when I showed them to you.’ The King heard this. The King saw red. In fact he nearly lost his head; But being a just and placid King He said, ‘This is a tricky thing. I need some counsel. Bring to me The wisest man in this country.’ The wisest man was found and brought, Nay, carried, to the Royal Court. He could not walk and could not see, So old (and therefore wise) was he — But in a quavering voice he said, ‘The culprit must be punished. Truly, the arch it was that banged The crown off, and it must be hanged’. To the scaffold the arch was led When suddenly a Councillor said — ‘How can we hang so shamefully What touched your head, Your Majesty?’ ‘True,’ mused the King. By now the crowd, Restless, was muttering aloud. The King perceived their mood and trembled And said to all who were assembled — ‘Let us postpone consideration Of finer points like guilt. The nation Wants a hanging. Hanged must be Someone, and that immediately.’ The noose was set up somewhat high. Each man was measured by and by. But only one man was so tall He fitted. One man. That was all. He was the King. His Majesty Was therefore hanged by Royal Decree. ‘Thank Goodness we found someone,’ said The Ministers, ‘for if instead We had not, the unruly town Might well have turned against the Crown.’ ‘Long live the King!’ the Ministers said. ‘Long live the King! The King is dead.’ They pondered the dilemma; then, Being practical-minded men, Sent out the heralds to proclaim (In His [former] Majesty’s name): ‘The next to pass the City Gate Will choose the ruler of our state, As is our custom. This will be Enforced with due ceremony.’ A man passed by the City Gate. An idiot. The guards cried, ‘Wait! Who is to be the King? Decide!’ ‘A melon,’ the idiot replied. This was his standard answer to All questions. (He liked melons.) ‘You Are now our King,’ the Ministers said, Crowning a melon. Then they led (Carried) the Melon to the throne And reverently set it down. * * * This happened years and years ago. When now you ask the people, ‘So — Your King appears to be a melon. How did this happen?’, they say, ‘Well, on Account of customary choice. If His Majesty rejoice In being a melon, that’s OK With us, for who are we to say What he should be as long as he Leaves us in Peace and Liberty?’ The principles of laissez faire Seem to be well-established there. [Note: Full text extracted from the provided PDF pages 1-6.]