The Rose and the Ring Read online

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