MEANWHILE, Prince Prigio had to suffer many unpleasant things. Though
he was the crown prince (and though his arguments were unanswerable),
everybody shunned him for a coward. The queen, who did not believe in
Firedrakes, alone took his side. He was not only avoided by all, but he
had most disagreeable scenes with his own cousins, Lady Molinda and Lady
Kathleena. In the garden Lady Molinda met him walking alone, and did not
bow to him.
“Dear Molly,” said the prince, who liked her, “how have I been so
unfortunate as to offend you?”
“My name, sir, is Lady Molinda,” she said, very proudly; “and you have
sent your own brother to his grave!”
[Illustration: Page 24]
“Oh, excuse me,” said the prince, “I am certain he has merely gone
off on his travels. He’ll come back when he’s tired: there _are_ no
Firedrakes; a French writer says they are ‘purement fabuleux, purely
fabulous, you know.”
“Prince Alphonso has gone on his travels, and will come back when he is
tired! And was he then--tired--of _me_?” cried poor Molinda, bursting
into tears, and forgetting her dignity.
“Oh! I beg your pardon, I never noticed; I’m sure I am very sorry,”
cried the prince, who, never having been in love himself, never thought
of other people. And he tried to take Molinda’s hand, but she snatched
it from him and ran away through the garden to the palace, leaving
Prince Prigio to feel foolish, for once, and ashamed.
As for Lady Kathleena, she swept past him like a queen, without a word.
So the prince, for all his cleverness, was not happy.
After several days had gone by, the king returned from the solitary
place where he had been speaking his mind. He now felt calmer and
better; and so at last he came back to the palace. But on seeing Prince
Prigio, who was lolling in a hammock, translating Egyptian hieroglyphs
into French poetry for his mother, the king broke out afresh, and made
use of the most cruel and impolite expressions.
At last, he gave orders that all the Court should pack up and move to a
distant city; and that Prince Prigio should be left alone in the palace
by himself. For he was quite unendurable, the king said, and he could
not trust his own temper when he thought of him. And he grew so fierce,
that even the queen was afraid of him now.
The poor queen cried a good deal; Prigio being her favourite son, on
account of his acknowledged ability and talent. But the rest of the
courtiers were delighted at leaving Prince Prigio behind. For his part,
he, very good-naturedly, showed them the best and shortest road to
Falkenstein, the city where they were going; and easily proved that
neither the chief secretary for geography, nor the general of the army,
knew anything about the matter--which, indeed, they did not.
The ungrateful courtiers left Prigio with hoots and yells, for they
disliked him so much that they forgot he would be king one day. He
therefore reminded them of this little fact in future history, which
made them feel uncomfortable enough, and then lay down in his hammock
and went to sleep.
When he wakened, the air was cold and the day was beginning to grow
dark. Prince Prigio thought he would go down and dine at a tavern in the
town, for no servants had been left with him. But what was his annoyance
when he found that his boots, his sword, his cap, his cloak--all his
clothes, in fact, except those he wore,--had been taken away by the
courtiers, merely to spite him! His wardrobe had been ransacked, and
everything that had not been carried off had been cut up, burned, and
destroyed. Never was such a spectacle of wicked mischief. It was as if
hay had been made of everything he possessed. What was worse, he had not
a penny in his pocket to buy new things; and his father had stopped his
allowance of fifty thousand pounds a month.
Can you imagine anything more cruel and _unjust_ than this conduct? for
it was not the prince’s fault that he was so clever. The cruel fairy had
made him so. But, even if the prince had been born clever (as may have
happened to you), was he to be blamed for that? The other people were
just as much in fault for being born so stupid; but the world, my dear
children, can never be induced to remember this. If you are clever, you
will find it best not to let people know it--if you want them to like
you.
Well, here was the prince in a pretty plight. Not a pound in his pocket,
not a pair of boots to wear, not even a cap to cover his head from the
rain; nothing but cold meat to eat, and never a servant to answer the
bell.
[Illustration: Chapter Five]