"What do you lack? What do you lack?" she cried, as he came. "Fish for your net? I have a little reed pipe, and when I blow on it, the mullet come sailing into the bay. But it has a price, pretty boy, it has a price. What do you lack? What do you lack? A storm to wreck the ships? I have more storms than the wind has, for I serve one, who is stronger then the wind. I can send the great ships to the bottom of the sea. But I have a price, pretty boy, I have a price. What do you lack? What do you lack? I know the flower that grows in the valley, none knows but I. It has purple leaves, and a star in its heart, and its juice is as white as milk. Should you touch with this flower the hard lips of the Queen, she would follow you all over the world. Out of the bed of the King she would rise, and over the whole world she would follow you. But it has a price, pretty boy, it has a price. What do you lack? What do you lack? Tell me your desire, and I will give it to you, and you shall pay me a price, pretty boy, you shall pay me a price."

© Oscar Wilde The Fisherman and the Soul