Transcribed from the 1889 J. W. Arrowsmith edition by David Price, email
ccx074@pglaf.org
{Book cover: cover.jpg}
PRINCE PRIGIO
BY
ANDREW LANG
AUTHOR OF
"THE MARK OF CAIN, "THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE"
ETC.
Twenty-seven Illustrations by Gordon Browne
1889
BRISTOL
J. W. ARROWSMITH, QUAY STREET
LONDON
SIMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO., 4 STATIONERS' HALL COURT
_All rights reserved_
{"So the two went into the gardens together, and talked about a number
of things.": p0.jpg}
PRINCE PRIGIO
IS
Dedicated
TO
ALMA
THYRA
EDITH
ROSALIND
NORNA
CECILY
AND VIOLET
PREFACE.
In compiling the following History from the Archives of Pantouflia, the
Editor has incurred several obligations to the Learned. The Return of
Benson (chapter xii.) is the fruit of the research of the late Mr. ALLEN
QUATERMAIN, while the final _wish_ of Prince Prigio was suggested by the
invention or erudition of a Lady.
A study of the _Firedrake_ in South Africa--where he is called the
_Nanaboulele_, a difficult word--has been published in French (translated
from the Basuto language) by M. PAUL SEBILLOT, in the _Revue des
Traditione Populaires_. For the _Remora_, the Editor is indebted to the
_Voyage a la Lune_ of M. CYRANO DE BERGERAC.
CHAPTER I.
{Chapter heading picture: p1.jpg}
_How the Fairies were not Invited to Court_.
Once upon a time there reigned in Pantouflia a king and a queen. With
almost everything else to make them happy, they wanted one thing: they
had no children. This vexed the king even more than the queen, who was
very clever and learned, and who had hated dolls when she was a child.
However, she, too in spite of all the books she read and all the pictures
she painted, would have been glad enough to be the mother of a little
prince. The king was anxious to consult the fairies, but the queen would
not hear of such a thing. She did not believe in fairies: she said that
they had never existed; and that she maintained, though _The History of
the Royal Family_ was full of chapters about nothing else.
Well, at long and at last they had a little boy, who was generally
regarded as the finest baby that had ever been seen. Even her majesty
herself remarked that, though she could never believe all the courtiers
told her, yet he certainly was a fine child--a very fine child.
Now, the time drew near for the christening party, and the king and queen
were sitting at breakfast in their summer parlour talking over it. It
was a splendid room, hung with portraits of the royal ancestors. There
was Cinderella, the grandmother of the reigning monarch, with her little
foot in her glass slipper thrust out before her. There was the Marquis
de Carabas, who, as everyone knows, was raised to the throne as prince
consort after his marriage with the daughter of the king of the period.
On the arm of the throne was seated his celebrated cat, wearing boots.
There, too, was a portrait of a beautiful lady, sound asleep: this was
Madame La Belle au Bois-dormant, also an ancestress of the royal family.
Many other pictures of celebrated persons were hanging on the walls.
"You have asked all the right people, my dear?" said the king.
"Everyone who should be asked," answered the queen.
"People are so touchy on these occasions," said his majesty. "You have
not forgotten any of our aunts?"
"No; the old cats!" replied the queen; for the king's aunts were
old-fashioned, and did not approve of her, and she knew it.
"They are very kind old ladies in their way," said the king; "and were
nice to me when I was a boy."
Then he waited a little, and remarked:
"The fairies, of course, you have invited? It has always been usual, in
our family, on an occasion like this; and I think we have neglected them
a little of late."
"How _can_ you be so _absurd_?" cried the queen. "How often must I tell
you that there are _no_ fairies? And even if there were--but, no matter;
pray let us drop the subject."
"They are very old friends of our family, my dear, that's all," said the
king timidly. "Often and often they have been godmothers to us. One, in
particular, was most kind and most serviceable to Cinderella I., my own
grandmother."
"Your grandmother!" interrupted her majesty. "Fiddle-de-dee! If anyone
puts such nonsense into the head of my little Prigio--"
But here the baby was brought in by the nurse, and the queen almost
devoured it with kisses. And so the fairies were not invited! It was an
extraordinary thing, but none of the nobles could come to the christening
party when they learned that the fairies had not been asked. Some were
abroad; several were ill; a few were in prison among the Saracens; others
were captives in the dens of ogres. The end of it was that the king and
queen had to sit down alone, one at each end of a very long table,
arrayed with plates and glasses for a hundred guests--for a hundred
guests who never came!
"Any soup, my dear?" shouted the king, through a speaking-trumpet; when,
suddenly, the air was filled with a sound like the rustling of the wings
of birds.
_Flitter_, _flitter_, _flutter_, went the noise; and when the queen
looked up, lo and behold! on every seat was a lovely fairy, dressed in
green, each with a _most interesting-looking parcel_ in her hand. Don't
you like opening parcels? The king did, and he was most friendly and
polite to the fairies. But the queen, though she saw them distinctly,
took no notice of them. You see, she did not believe in fairies, nor in
her own eyes, when she saw them. So she talked across the fairies to the
king, just as if they had not been there; but the king behaved as
politely as if they were _real_--which, of course, they were.
When dinner was over, and when the nurse had brought in the baby, all the
fairies gave him the most magnificent presents. One offered a purse
which could never be empty; and one a pair of seven-leagued boots; and
another a cap of darkness, that nobody might see the prince when he put
it on; and another a wishing-cap; and another a carpet, on which, when he
sat, he was carried wherever he wished to find himself. Another made him
beautiful for ever; and another, brave; and another, lucky: but the last
fairy of all, a cross old thing, crept up and said, "My child, you shall
be _too_ clever!"
This fairy's gift would have pleased the queen, if she had believed in
it, more than anything else, because she was so clever herself. But she
took no notice at all; and the fairies went each to her own country, and
none of them stayed there at the palace, where nobody believed in them,
except the king, a little. But the queen tossed all their nice boots and
caps, carpets, purses, swords, and all, away into a dark lumber-room;
for, of course, she thought that they were _all nonsense_, and merely old
rubbish out of books, or pantomime "properties."