The crown represents the tempting yet dangerous human desire for material possessions. Paxton is enticed by the crown immediately upon learning about it, but it is the superficial quality of the crown’s mystery that intrigues him, not necessarily its protective properties or history. Upon hearing that there is nobody currently guarding the crown, Paxton seizes the opportunity to dig it up himself. Whereas the townspeople value the crown for the tradition and safety it brings them, Paxton is merely fascinated by the novelty and excitement around it. The story doesn’t explicitly detail Paxton’s exact motives, but it’s clear that he’s attracted to the enigmatic lore surrounding the crown, regardless of whether or not he believes it. It’s also reasonable to assume that the crown’s beauty and monetary worth contribute to its allure. Paxton’s desire is proven to be superficial by the fact that he gains no fulfillment or satisfaction once he possesses the crown—in fact, he is worse off than he was before. In contrast, the story suggests that the crown plays a crucial role to the community that values it for its practical and cultural importance. Therefore, the crown’s role in the story is twofold—it has a superficial allure, but it also fulfills the town’s fundamental necessity for culture, security, and tradition. Through the crown’s multifaceted appeal, the story cautions against giving in to materialistic desire while placing a higher importance on more basic and sensible needs.
The Crown Quotes in A Warning to the Curious
[…] them Germans would a landed here time and again, they would. Landed with their ships, and killed man, woman and child in their beds. Now then, that's the truth what I'm telling you, that is; and if you don't believe me, you ast the rector. There he comes: you ast him, I says.
“You see,” he said, “anybody would call it the greatest bit of luck. I did, but I don’t know. Of course I asked the shopman about William Ager, and of course he happened to remember that he lodged in a cottage in the North Field and died there.”
You see, he’s light and weak, but all the same I daren't face him. Well, then, when I was making the tunnel, of course it was worse, and if I hadn't been so keen I should have dropped the whole thing and run. It was like someone scraping at my back all the time.
We looked out of the window: there was a brilliant full moon—the Paschal moon.
Well, we were pretty regular customers of the hotel, and did not give much trouble, and were considered by the servants to be not under the mark in the way of tips; and so the boots was propitiated, and let us out on to the sea-front, and remained, as we heard later, looking after us.
But under observation we felt we were, as I have never felt it at another time. Specially was it so when we passed out of the churchyard into a narrow path with close high hedges, through which we hurried as Christian did through that Valley; and so got out into open fields.
Yet, in all this quiet, an acute, an acrid consciousness of a restrained hostility very near us, like a dog on a leash that might be let go at any moment.