King Padella made very similar proposals to Rosalba to those which she
had received from the various princes who, as we have seen, had fallen
in love with her. His Majesty was a widower, and offered to marry his
fair captive that instant, but she declined his invitation in her usual
polite gentle manner, stating that Prince Giglio was her love, and
that any other union was out of the question. Having tried tears and
supplications in vain, this violent-tempered monarch menaced her with
threats and tortures; but she declared she would rather suffer all these
than accept the hand of her father's murderer, who left her finally,
uttering the most awful imprecations, and bidding her prepare for death
on the following morning.
All night long the King spent in advising how he should get rid of this
obdurate young creature. Cutting off her head was much too easy a death
for her; hanging was so common in his Majesty's dominions that it no
longer afforded him any sport; finally, he bethought himself of a pair
of fierce lions which had lately been sent to him as presents, and he
determined, with these ferocious brutes, to hunt poor Rosalba down.
Adjoining his castle was an amphitheatre where the Prince indulged in
bull-baiting, rat-hunting, and other ferocious sports. The two lions
were kept in a cage under this place; their roaring might be heard over
the whole city, the inhabitants of which, I am sorry to say, thronged in
numbers to see a poor young lady gobbled up by two wild beasts.
The King took his place in the royal box, having the officers 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 behavior, 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 armor 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
armor, with his vizor up, and bearing a letter on the point of his
lance.
"Ha!" exclaimed the King, "by my fay, '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
single-stick, 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 chooses to find fault with his Majesty's expressions, I,
Kustasoff 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 ex-minister, 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 valor, 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!"