of his Court around and the Count Hogginarmo by his side, upon
whom His Majesty was observed to look very fiercely; the fact
is, royal spies had told the monarch of Hogginarmo's behaviour,
his proposals to Rosalba, and his offer to fight for the crown.
Black as thunder looked King Padella at this proud noble, as
they sat in the front seats of the theatre waiting to see the
tragedy whereof poor Rosalba was to be the heroine.
At length that Princess was brought out in her nightgown, with
all her beautiful hair falling down her back, and looking so
pretty that even the beef-eaters and keepers of the wild
animals wept plentifully at seeing her. And she walked with
her poor little feet (only luckily the arena was covered with
sawdust), and went and leaned up against a great stone in the
centre of the amphitheatre, round which the Court and the
people were seated in boxes, with bars before them, for fear of
the great, fierce, red-maned, black-throated, long-tailed,
roaring, bellowing, rushing lions. And now the gates were
opened, and with a wurrawarrurawarar two great lean, hungry,
roaring lions rushed out of their den, where they had been kept
for three weeks on nothing but a little toast-and-water, and
dashed straight up to the stone where poor Rosalba was waiting.
Commend her to your patron saints, all you kind people, for she
is in a dreadful state!
There was a hum and a buzz all through the circus, and the
fierce King Padella even felt a little compassion. But Count
Hogginarmo, seated by His Majesty, roared out 'Hurray! Now for
it! Soo-soo-soo!' that nobleman being uncommonly angry still
at Rosalba's refusal of him.
But O strange event! O remarkable circumstance! O
extraordinary coincidence, which I am sure none of you could BY
ANY POSSIBILITY have divined! When the lions came to Rosalba,
instead of devouring her with their great teeth, it was with
kisses they gobbled her up! They licked her pretty feet, they
nuzzled their noses in her lap, they moo'd, they seemed to say,
'Dear, dear sister don't you recollect your brothers in the
forest?' And she put her pretty white arms round their tawny
necks, and kissed them.
King Padella was immensely astonished. The Count Hogginarmo
was extremely disgusted. 'Pooh!' the Count cried. 'Gammon!'
exclaimed his Lordship.' These lions are tame beasts come from
Wombwell's or Astley's. It is a shame to put people off in
this way. I believe they are little boys dressed up in
door-mats. They are no lions at all.'
'Ha!' said the King, 'you dare to say "gammon" to your
Sovereign, do you? These lions are no lions at all, aren't
they? Ho! my beef-eaters! Ho! my bodyguard! Take this Count
Hogginarmo and fling him into the circus! Give him a sword and
buckler, let him keep his armour on, and his weather-eye out,
and fight these lions.'
The haughty Hogginarmo laid down his opera-glass, and looked
scowling round at the King and his attendants. 'Touch me not,
dogs!' he said, 'or by St. Nicholas the Elder, I will gore you!
Your Majesty thinks Hogginarmo is afraid? No, not of a hundred
thousand lions! Follow me down into the circus, King Padella,
and match thyself against one of yon brutes. Thou darest not.
Let them both come on, then!' And opening a grating of the
box, he jumped lightly down into the circus.
WURRA WURRA WURRA WUR-AW-AW-AW!!!
In about two minutes
The Count Hogginarmo was
GOBBLED UP
by
those lions,
bones, boots, and all,
and
There was an
End of him.
At this, the King said, 'Serve him right, the rebellious
ruffian! And now, as those lions won't eat that young woman--'
'Let her off!--let her off!' cried the crowd.
'NO! ' roared the King. 'Let the beef-eaters go down and chop
her into small pieces. If the lions defend her, let the
archers shoot them to death. That hussy shall die in
tortures!'
'A-a-ah!' cried the crowd. 'Shame! shame!'
'Who dares cry out shame?' cried the furious potentate (so
little can tyrants command their passions). 'Fling any
scoundrel who says a word down among the lions!'
I warrant you there was a dead silence then, which was broken
by a Pang arang pang pangkarangpang, and a Knight and a Herald
rode in at the further end of the circus: the Knight, in full
armour, with his vizor up, and bearing a letter on the point of
his lance.
'Ha!' exclaimed the King, 'by my fey, 'tis Elephant and Castle,
pursuivant of my brother of Paflagonia; and the Knight, an' my
memory serves me, is the gallant Captain Hedzoff! What news
from Paflagonia, gallant Hedzoff? Elephant and Castle, beshrew
me, thy trumpeting must have made thee thirsty. What will my
trusty herald like to drink?'
'Bespeaking first safe conduct from your Lordship,' said
Captain Hedzoff, 'before we take a drink of anything, permit us
to deliver our King's message.'
'My Lordship, ha!' said Crim Tartary, frowning terrifically.
'That title soundeth strange in the anointed ears of a crowned
King. Straightway speak out your message, Knight and Herald!'
Reining up his charger in a most elegant manner close under the
King's balcony, Hedzoff turned to the Herald, and bade him
begin.
Elephant and Castle, dropping his trumpet over his shoulder,
took a large sheet of paper out of his hat, and began to
read:--
'O Yes! O Yes! O Yes! Know all men by these presents, that we,
Giglio, King of Paflagonia, Grand Duke of Cappadocia, Sovereign
Prince of Turkey and the Sausage Islands, having assumed our
rightful throne and title, long time falsely borne by our
usurping Uncle, styling himself King of Paflagonia--'
'Ha!' growled Padella.
'Hereby summon the false traitor, Padella, calling himself King
of Crim Tartary--'
The King's curses were dreadful. 'Go on, Elephant and Castle!'
said the intrepid Hedzoff.
'--To release from cowardly imprisonment his liege lady and
rightful Sovereign, ROSALBA, Queen of Crim Tartary, and restore
her to her royal throne: in default of which, I, Giglio,
proclaim the said Padella sneak, traitor, humbug, usurper, and
coward. I challenge him to meet me, with fists or with
pistols, with battle-axe or sword, with blunderbuss or
singlestick, alone or at the head of his army, on foot or on
horseback; and will prove my words upon his wicked ugly body!'
'God save the King!' said Captain Hedzoff, executing a
demivolte, two semilunes, and three caracols.
'Is that all?' said Padella, with the terrific calm of
concentrated fury.
'That, sir, is all my royal master's message. Here is His
Majesty's letter in autograph, and here is his glove, and if
any gentleman of Crim Tartary choos
es to find fault with His
Majesty's expressions, I, Tuffskin Hedzoff, Captain of the
Guard, am very much at his service,' and he waved his lance,
and looked at the assembly all round.
'And what says my good brother of Paflagonia, my dear son's
father-in-law, to this rubbish?' asked the King.
'The King's uncle hath been deprived of the crown he unjustly
wore,' said Hedzoff gravely. 'He and his axminister, Glumboso,
are now in prison waiting the sentence of my royal master.
After the battle of Bombardaro--'
'Of what?' asked the surprised Padella.
'Of Bombardaro, where my liege, his present Majesty, would have
performed prodigies of velour, but that the whole of his
uncle's army came over to our side, with the exception of
Prince Bulbo.'
'Ah! my boy, my boy, my Bulbo was no traitor!' cried Padella.
'Prince Bulbo, far from coming over to us, ran away, sir; but I
caught him. The Prince is a prisoner in our army, and the most
terrific tortures await him if a hair of the Princess Rosalba's
head is injured.'
'Do they?' exclaimed the furious Padella, who was now perfectly
LIVID with rage.' Do they indeed? So much the worse for Bulbo.
I've twenty sons as lovely each as Bulbo. Not one but is as
fit to reign as Bulbo. Whip, whack, flog, starve, rack,
punish, torture Bulbo--break all his bones--roast him or flay
him alive--pull all his pretty teeth out one by one! But
justly dear as Bulbo is to me,--joy of my eyes, fond treasure
of my soul!--Ha, ha, ha, ha! revenge is dearer still. Ho!
tortures, rack-men, executioners--light up the fires and make
the pincers hot! get lots of boiling lead!--Bring out ROSALBA!'
XVI. HOW HEDZOFF RODE BACK AGAIN TO KING GIGLIO
Captain Hedzoff rode away when King Padella uttered this cruel
command, having done his duty in delivering the message with
which his royal master had entrusted him. Of course he was
very sorry for Rosalba, but what could he do?
So he returned to King Giglio's camp, and found the young
monarch in a disturbed state of mind, smoking cigars in the
royal tent. His Majesty's agitation was not appeased by the
news that was brought by his ambassador. 'The brutal ruthless
ruffian royal wretch!' Giglio exclaimed. 'As England's poesy
has well remarked, "The man that lays his hand upon a woman,
save in the way of kindness, is a villain." Ha, Hedzoff!'
'That he is, your Majesty,' said the attendant.
'And didst thou see her flung into the oil? and didn't the
soothing oil--the emollient oil, refuse to boil, good
Hedzoff--and to spoil the fairest lady ever eyes did look on?'
'Faith, good my liege, I had no heart to look and see a
beauteous lady boiling down; I took your royal message to
Padella, and bore his back to you. I told him you would hold
Prince Bulbo answerable. He only said that he had twenty sons
as good as Bulbo, and forthwith he bade the ruthless
executioners proceed.'
'O cruel father--O unhappy son!' cried the King. 'Go, some of
you, and bring Prince Bulbo hither.'
Bulbo was brought in chains, looking very uncomfortable.
Though a prisoner, he had been tolerably happy, perhaps because
his mind was at rest, and all the fighting was over, and he was
playing at marbles with his guards when the King sent for him.
'Oh, my poor Bulbo,' said His Majesty, with looks of infinite
compassion, 'hast thou heard the news?' (for you see Giglio
wanted to break the thing gently to the Prince), 'thy brutal
father has condemned Rosalba--p-p-p-ut her to death,
P-p-p-prince Bulbo! '
'What, killed Betsinda! Boo-hoo-hoo,' cried out Bulbo.
'Betsinda! pretty Betsinda! dear Betsinda! She was the dearest
little girl in the world. I love her better twenty thousand
times even than Angelica,' and he went on expressing his grief
in so hearty and unaffected a manner that the King was quite
touched by it, and said, shaking Bulbo's hand, that he wished
he had known Bulbo sooner.
Bulbo, quite unconsciously, and meaning for the best, offered
to come and sit with His Majesty, and smoke a cigar with him,
and console him. The ROYAL KINDNESS supplied Bulbo with a
cigar; he had not had one, he said, since he was taken
prisoner.
And now think what must have been the feelings of the most
MERCIFUL OF MONARCHS, when he informed his prisoner that, in
consequence of King Padella's cruel and DASTARDLY BEHAVIOUR to
Rosalba, Prince Bulbo must instantly be executed! The noble
Giglio could not restrain his tears, nor could the Grenadiers,
nor the officers, nor could Bulbo himself, when the matter was
explained to him, and he was brought to understand that His
Majesty's promise, of course, was ABOVE EVERY THING, and Bulbo
must submit. So poor Bulbo was led out, Hedzoff trying to
console him, by pointing out that if he had won the battle of
Bombardaro, he might have hanged Prince Giglio. 'Yes! But that
is no comfort to me now!' said poor Bulbo; nor indeed was it,
poor fellow!
He was told the business would be done the next morning at
eight, and was taken back to his dungeon, where every attention
was paid to him. The gaoler's wife sent him tea, and the
turnkey's daughter begged him to write his name in her album,
where a many gentlemen had written it on like occasions!
'Bother your album!' says Bulbo. The Undertaker came and
measured him for the handsomest coffin which money could buy
--even this didn't console Bulbo. The Cook brought him dishes
which he once used to like; but he wouldn't touch them: he sat
down and began writing an adieu to Angelica, as the clock kept
always ticking, and the hands drawing nearer to next morning.
The Barber came in at night, and offered to shave him for the
next day. Prince Bulbo kicked him away, and went on writing a
few words to Princess Angelica, as the clock kept always
ticking, and the hands hopping nearer and nearer to next
morning. He got up on the top of a hatbox, on the top of a
chair, on the top of his bed, on the top of his table, and
looked out to see whether he might escape as the clock kept
always ticking and the hands drawing nearer, and nearer, and
nearer.
But looking out of the window was one thing, and jumping
another: and the town clock struck seven. So he got into bed
for a little sleep, but the gaoler came and woke him, and said,
'Git up, your Royal Ighness, if you please, it's TEN MINUTES TO
EIGHT!'
So poor Bulbo got up: he had gone to bed in his clothes (the
lazy boy), and he shook himself, and said he didn't mind about
dressing, or having any breakfast, thank you; and he saw the
soldiers who had come for him. 'Lead on!' he said; and they
led the way, deeply affected; and they came into the courtyard,
and out into the square, and there was King Giglio come to take
leave of him, and His Majesty most kindly shook hands with
him,
and the 'Take off that marched on:--when hark!
Haw--wurraw--wurraw--aworr!
A roar of wild beasts was heard. And who should come riding
into the town, frightening away the boys, and even the beadle
and policeman, but ROSALBA!
The fact is, that when Captain Hedzoff entered into the court
of Snapdragon Castle, and was discoursing with King Padella,
the lions made a dash at the open gate, gobbled up the six
beef-eaters in a jiffy, and away they went with Rosalba on the
back of one of them, and they carried her, turn and turn about,
till they came to the city where Prince Giglio's army was
encamped.
When the KING heard of the QUEEN'S arrival, you may think how
he rushed out of his breakfast-room to hand Her Majesty off her
lion! The lions were grown as fat as pigs now, having had
Hogginarmo and all those beefeaters, and were so tame, anybody
might pat them.
While Giglio knelt (most gracefully) and helped the Princess,
Bulbo, for his part, rushed up and kissed the lion. He flung
his arms round the forest monarch; he hugged him, and laughed
and cried for joy. 'Oh, you darling old beast, oh, how glad I
am to see you, and the dear, dear Bets--that is, Rosalba.'
'What, is it you? poor Bulbo!' said the Queen.' Oh, how glad I
am to see you,' and she gave him her hand to kiss. King Giglio
slapped him most kindly on the back, and said, 'Bulbo, my boy,
I am delighted, for your sake, that Her Majesty has arrived.'
'So am I,' said Bulbo; 'and YOU KNOW WHY.' Captain Hedzoff
here came up. 'Sire, it is half-past eight: shall we proceed
with the execution? '
'Execution! what for?' asked Bulbo.
'An officer only knows his orders,' replied Captain Hedzoff,
showing his warrant, on which His Majesty King Giglio smilingly
said, 'Prince Bulbo was reprieved this time,' and most
graciously invited him to breakfast.
XVII. HOW A TREMENDOUS BATTLE TOOK PLACE, AND WHO WON IT
As soon as King Padella heard, what we know already, that his
victim, the lovely Rosalba, had escaped him, His Majesty's fury
knew no bounds, and he pitched the Lord Chancellor, Lord
Chamberlain, and every officer of the Crown whom he could set
eyes on, into the cauldron of boiling oil prepared for the
Princess. Then he ordered out his whole army, horse, foot, and
artillery; and set forth at the head of an innumerable host,
and I should think twenty thousand drummers, trumpeters, and
fifers.
King Giglio's advance guard, you may be sure, kept that monarch
acquainted with the enemy's dealings, and he was in nowise
disconcerted. He was much too polite to alarm the Princess,
his lovely guest, with any unnecessary rumours of battles
impending; on the contrary, he did everything to amuse and
divert her; gave her a most elegant breakfast, dinner, lunch,
and got up a ball for her that evening, when he danced with her
every single dance.
Poor Bulbo was taken into favour again, and allowed to go quite
free now. He had new clothes given him, was called 'My good
cousin' by His Majesty, and was treated with the greatest
distinction by everybody. But it was easy to see he was very
melancholy. The fact is, the sight of Betsinda, who looked
perfectly lovely in an elegant new dress, set poor Bulbo
frantic in love with her again. And he never thought about
Angelica, now Princess Bulbo, whom he had left at home, and
who, as we know, did not care much about him.
The King, dancing the twenty-fifth polka with Rosalba, remarked
with wonder the ring she wore; and then Rosalba told him how
she had got it from Gruffanuff, who no doubt had picked it up
when Angelica flung it away.
'Yes,' says the Fairy Blackstick, who had come to see the young
people, and who had very likely certain plans regarding them.
'That ring I gave the Queen, Giglio's mother, who was not,
saving your presence, a very wise woman; it is enchanted, and
whoever wears it looks beautiful in the eyes of the world, I
made poor Prince Bulbo, when he was christened, the present of
a rose which made him look handsome while he had it; but he
gave it to Angelica, who instantly looked beautiful again,
whilst Bulbo relapsed into his natural plainness.'
'Rosalba needs no ring, I am sure,' says Giglio, with a low