THE princes returned to Gluckstein on the carpet, and went to the best
inn, where they dined together and slept. Next morning they, and the
ambassador, who had been told all the story, and Lady Rosalind, floated
comfortably on the carpet, back to Falkenstein, where the king wept like
anything on the shoulders of Alphonso and Enrico. They could not make
out why he cried so, nor why Lady Molinda and Lady Kathleena cried; but
soon they were all laughing and happy again. But then--would you believe
he could be so mean?--he refused to keep his royal promise, and restore
Prigio to his crown-princeship! Kings are like that.
But Prigio, very quietly asking for the head of the Firedrake, said he’d
pour the magic water on _that_, and bring the Firedrake back to
life again, unless his majesty behaved rightly. This threat properly
frightened King Grognio, and he apologised. Then the king shook hands
with Prigio in public, and thanked him, and said he was proud of him. As
to Lady Rosalind, the old gentleman quite fell in love with her, and he
sent at once to the Chaplain Royal to get into his surplice, and marry
all the young people off at once, without waiting for wedding-cakes, and
milliners, and all the rest of it.
[Illustration: Page 100]
Now, just as they were forming a procession to march into church, who
should appear but the queen! Her majesty had been travelling by post all
the time, and, luckily, had heard of none of the doings since Prigio,
Benson, and the king left Gluckstein. I say _luckily_ because if she had
heard of them, she would not have believed a word of them. But when she
saw Alphonso and Enrico, she was much pleased, and said:
“Naughty boys! Where have you been hiding? The king had some absurd
story about your having been killed by a fabulous monster. Bah! don’t
tell _me_. I always said you would come back after a little trip--didn’t
I, Prigio?”
“Certainly, madam,” said Prigio; “and I said so, too. Didn’t I say
so?” And all the courtiers cried: “Yes, you did;” but some added, to
themselves, “He _always_ says, ‘Didn’t I say so?’”
Then the queen was introduced to Lady Rosalind, and she said it was
“rather a short engagement, but she supposed young people understood
their own affairs best.” And they do! So the three pairs were married,
with the utmost rejoicings; and her majesty never, her whole life long,
could be got to believe that anything unusual had occurred.
The honeymoon of Prince Prigio and the Crown Princess Rosalind was
passed at the castle, where the prince had been deserted by the Court.
But now it was delightfully fitted up; and Master Frank marched about
the house with his tail in the air, as if the place belonged to him.
Now, on the second day of their honeymoon, the prince and princess were
sitting in the garden together, and the prince said, “Are you _quite_
happy, my dear?” and Rosalind said, “Yes; _quite_.”
But the prince did not like the tone of her voice, and he said:
“No, there’s something; do tell me what it is.”
“Well,” said Rosalind, putting her head on his shoulder, and speaking
very low, “I want everybody to love you as much as I do. No, not quite
so very much,--but I want them to like you. Now they _can’t_, because
they are afraid of you; for you are so awfully clever. Now, couldn’t you
take the wishing cap, and wish to be no cleverer than other people? Then
everybody would like you!”
The prince thought a minute, then he said:
“Your will is law, my dear; anything to please you. Just wait a minute!”
Then he ran upstairs, for the last time, to the fairy garret, and he put
on the wishing cap.
“No,” thought he to himself, “I won’t wish _that_. Every man has one
secret from his wife, and this shall be mine.”
Then he said aloud: “I wish to SEEM no CLEVERER THAN OTHER PEOPLE.”
Then he ran downstairs again, and the princess noticed a great
difference in him (though, of course, there was really none at all), and
so did everyone. For the prince remained as clever as ever he had been;
but, as nobody observed it, he became the most popular prince, and
finally the best-beloved king who had ever sat on the throne of
Pantouflia.
But occasionally Rosalind would say, “I do believe, my dear, that you
are really as clever as ever!”
And he _was!_
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