fairy ring: if a man wore it, it made all the women in love with him;
if a woman, all the gentlemen. The Queen, Giglio’s mother, quite an
ordinary-looking person, was admired immensely whilst she wore this
ring, and her husband was frantic when she was ill. But when she called
her little Giglio to her, and put the ring on his finger, King Savio did
not seem to care for his wife so much any more, but transferred all his
love to little Giglio. So did everybody love him as long as he had the
ring; but when, as quite a child, he gave it to Angelica, people began
to love and admire HER; and Giglio, as the saying is, played only second
fiddle.
‘Yes,’ says Angelica, going on in her foolish ungrateful way. ‘_I_
know who’ll give me much finer things than your beggarly little pearl
nonsense.’
‘Very good, miss! You may take back your ring too!’ says Giglio, his
eyes flashing fire at her, and then, as his eyes had been suddenly
opened, he cried out, ‘Ha! what does this mean? Is THIS the woman I have
been in love with all my life? Have I been such a ninny as to throw away
my regard upon you? Why--actually--yes--you are a little crooked!’
‘Oh, you wretch!’ cries Angelica.
‘And, upon my conscience, you--you squint a little.’
‘Eh!’ cries Angelica.
‘And your hair is red--and you are marked with the smallpox--and what?
you have three false teeth--and one leg shorter than the other!’
‘You brute, you brute, you!’ Angelica screamed out: and as she seized
the ring with one hand, she dealt Giglio one, two, three smacks on the
face, and would have pulled the hair off his head had he not started
laughing, and crying--
‘Oh dear me, Angelica, don’t pull out MY hair, it hurts! You might
remove a great deal of YOUR OWN, as I perceive, without scissors or
pulling at all. Oh, ho, ho! ha, ha, ha! ho he he!’
And he nearly choked himself with laughing, and she with rage; when,
with a low bow, and dressed in his Court habit, Count Gambabella,
the first lord-in-waiting, entered and said, ‘Royal Highnesses! Their
Majesties expect you in the Pink Throne-room, where they await the
arrival of the Prince of CRIM TARTARY.’
VIII. HOW GRUFFANUFF PICKED THE FAIRY RING UP, AND PRINCE BULBO CAME TO
COURT
Prince Bulbo’s arrival had set all the court in a flutter: everybody was
ordered to put his or her best clothes on: the footmen had their gala
liveries; the Lord Chancellor his new wig; the Guards their last
new tunics; and Countess Gruffanuff, you may be sure, was glad of an
opportunity of decorating HER old person with her finest things. She was
walking through the court of the Palace on her way to wait upon Their
Majesties, when she espied something glittering on the pavement, and
bade the boy in buttons who was holding up her train, to go and pick up
the article shining yonder. He was an ugly little wretch, in some of the
late groom-porter’s old clothes cut down, and much too tight for him;
and yet, when he had taken up the ring (as it turned out to be), and was
carrying it to his mistress, she thought he looked like a little cupid.
He gave the ring to her; it was a trumpery little thing enough, but too
small for any of her old knuckles, so she put it into her pocket.
‘Oh, mum!’ says the boy, looking at her ‘how--how beyoutiful you do
look, mum, today, mum!’
‘And you, too, Jacky,’ she was going to say; but, looking down
at him--no, he was no longer good-looking at all--but only the
carroty-haired little Jacky of the morning. However, praise is welcome
from the ugliest of men or boys, and Gruffanuff, bidding the boy hold
up her train, walked on in high good-humour. The guards saluted her
with peculiar respect. Captain Hedzoff, in the anteroom, said, ‘My
dear madam, you look like an angel today.’ And so, bowing and smirking,
Gruffanuff went in and took her place behind her Royal Master and
Mistress, who were in the throne-room, awaiting the Prince of Crim
Tartary. Princess Angelica sat at their feet, and behind the King’s
chair stood Prince Giglio, looking very savage.
The Prince of Crim Tartary made his appearance, attended by Baron
Sleibootz, his chamberlain, and followed by a black page carrying the
most beautiful crown you ever saw! He was dressed in his travelling
costume, and his hair, as you see, was a little in disorder. ‘I have
ridden three hundred miles since breakfast,’ said he, ‘so eager was I to
behold the Prin--the Court and august family of Paflagonia, and I could
not wait one minute before appearing in Your Majesties’ presences.’
Giglio, from behind the throne, burst out into a roar of contemptuous
laughter; but all the Royal party, in fact, were so flurried, that they
did not hear this little outbreak. ‘Your R. H. is welcome in any dress,’
says the King. ‘Glumboso, a chair for His Royal Highness.’
‘Any dress His Royal Highness wears IS a Court dress,’ says Princess
Angelica, smiling graciously.
‘Ah! but you should see my other clothes,’ said the Prince. ‘I should
have had them on, but that stupid carrier has not brought them. Who’s
that laughing?’
It was Giglio laughing. ‘I was laughing,’ he said, ‘because you said
just now that you were in such a hurry to see the Princess, that you
could not wait to change your dress; and now you say you come in those
clothes because you have no others.’
‘And who are you?’ says Prince Bulbo, very fiercely.
‘My father was King of this country, and I am his only son, Prince!’
replies Giglio, with equal haughtiness.
‘Ha!’ said the King and Glumboso, looking very flurried; but the former,
collecting himself, said, ‘Dear Prince Bulbo, I forgot to introduce to
Your Royal Highness my dear nephew, His Royal Highness Prince Giglio!
Know each other! Embrace each other! Giglio, give His Royal Highness
your hand!’ and Giglio, giving his hand, squeezed poor Bulbo’s until the
tears ran out of his eyes. Glumboso now brought a chair for the Royal
visitor, and placed it on the platform on which the King, Queen, and
Prince were seated; but the chair was on the edge of the platform, and
as Bulbo sat down, it toppled over, and he with it, rolling over and
over, and bellowing like a bull. Giglio roared still louder at this
disaster, but it was with laughter; so did all the Court when Prince
Bulbo got up; for though when he entered the room he appeared not very
ridiculous, as he stood up from his fall for a moment he looked so
exceedingly plain and foolish, that nobody could help laughing at him.
When he had entered the room, he was observed to carry a rose in his
hand, which fell out of it as he tumbled.
‘My rose! my rose!’ cried Bulbo; and his chamberlain dashed forwards and
picked it up, and gave it to the Prince, who put it in his waistcoat.
Then people wondered why they had laughed; there was nothing
particularly ridiculous in him. He was rather short, rather stout,
rather red-haired, but, in fine, for a Prince, not so bad.
So they sat and talked, the Royal personages together, the Crim
Tartar officers with those of Paflagonia--Giglio very comfortable with
Gruffanuff behind the throne. He looked at her with such tender eyes,
that her heart was all in a flutter. ‘Oh, dear Prince,’ she said, ‘how
could you speak so haughtily in presence of Their Majesties? I protest I
thought I should have fainted.’
‘I should have caught you in my arms,’ said Giglio, looking raptures.
‘Why were you so cruel to Prince Bulbo, dear Prince?’ says Gruff.
‘Because I hate him,’ says Gil.
‘You are jealous of him, and still love poor Angelica,’ cries
Gruffanuff, putting her handkerchief to her eyes.
‘I did, but I love her no more!’ Giglio cried. ‘I despise her! Were she
heiress to twenty thousand thrones, I would despise her and scorn her.
But why speak of thrones? I have lost mine. I am too weak to recover
it--I am alone, and have no friend.’
‘Oh, say not so, dear Prince!’ says Gruffanuff.
‘Besides,’ says he, ‘I am so happy here BEHIND THE THRONE that I would
not change my place, no, not for the throne of the world!’
‘What are you two people chattering about there?’ says the Queen, who
was rather good-natured, though not overburthened with wisdom. ‘It is
time to dress for dinner. Giglio, show Prince Bulbo to his room. Prince,
if your clothes have not come, we shall be very happy to see you as you
are.’ But when Prince Bulbo got to his bedroom, his luggage was there
and unpacked; and the hairdresser coming in, cut and curled him entirely
to his own satisfaction; and when the dinner-bell rang, the Royal
company had not to wait above five-and-twenty minutes until Bulbo
appeared, during which time the King, who could not bear to wait, grew
as sulky as possible. As for Giglio, he never left Madam Gruffanuff all
this time, but stood with her in the embrasure of a window, paying her
compliments. At length the Groom of the Chambers announced His Royal
Highness the Prince of Crim Tartary! and the noble company went into the
royal dining-room. It was quite a small party; only the King and Queen,
the Princess, whom Bulbo took out, the two Princes, Countess Gruffanuff,
Glumboso the Prime Minister, and Prince Bulbo’s chamberlain. You may be
sure they had a very good dinner--let every boy or girl think of what he
or she likes best, and fancy it on the table.*
*Here a very pretty game may be played by all the children
saying what they like best for dinner.
The Princess talked incessantly all dinner-time to the Prince of Crimea,
who ate an immense deal too much, and never took his eyes off his plate,
except when Giglio, who was carving a goose, sent a quantity of stuffing
and onion sauce into one of them. Giglio only burst out a-laughing
as the Crimean Prince wiped his shirt-front and face with his scented
pocket-handkerchief. He did not make Prince Bulbo any apology. When the
Prince looked at him, Giglio would not look that way. When Prince Bulbo
said, ‘Prince Giglio, may I have the honour of taking a glass of wine
with you?’ Giglio WOULDN’T answer. All his talk and his eyes were for
Countess Gruffanuff, who you may be sure was pleased with Giglio’s
attentions--the vain old creature! When he was not complimenting her,
he was making fun of Prince Bulbo, so loud that Gruffanuff was always
tapping him with her fan, and saying--‘Oh, you satirical Prince! Oh,
fie, the Prince will hear!’ ‘Well, I don’t mind,’ says Giglio, louder
still. The King and Queen luckily did not hear; for Her Majesty was a
little deaf, and the King thought so much about his own dinner, and,
besides, made such a dreadful noise, hobgobbling in eating it, that
he heard nothing else. After dinner, His Majesty and the Queen went to
sleep in their arm-chairs.
This was the time when Giglio began his tricks with Prince Bulbo, plying
that young gentleman with port, sherry, madeira, champagne, marsala,
cherry-brandy, and pale ale, of all of which Master Bulbo drank without
stint. But in plying his guest, Giglio was obliged to drink himself,
and, I am sorry to say, took more than was good for him, so that the
young men were very noisy, rude, and foolish when they joined the ladies
after dinner; and dearly did they pay for that imprudence, as now, my
darlings, you shall hear!
Bulbo went and sat by the piano, where Angelica was playing and singing,
and he sang out of tune, and he upset the coffee when the footman
brought it, and he laughed out of place, and talked absurdly, and fell
asleep and snored horridly. Booh, the nasty pig! But as he lay there
stretched on the pink satin sofa, Angelica still persisted in thinking
him the most beautiful of human beings. No doubt the magic rose which
Bulbo wore caused this infatuation on Angelica’s part; but is she the
first young woman who has thought a silly fellow charming?
Giglio must go and sit by Gruffanuff, whose old face he, too,
every moment began to find more lovely. He paid the most outrageous
compliments to her:--There never was such a darling--Older than he
was?--Fiddle-de-dee! He would marry her--he would have nothing but her!
To marry the heir to the throne! Here was a chance! The artful hussy
actually got a sheet of paper, and wrote upon it, ‘This is to give
notice that I, Giglio, only son of Savio, King of Paflagonia, hereby
promise to marry the charming and virtuous Barbara Griselda, Countess
Gruffanuff, and widow of the late Jenkins Gruffanuff, Esq.’
‘What is it you are writing, you charming Gruffy?’ says Giglio, who was
lolling on the sofa, by the writing-table.
‘Only an order for you to sign, dear Prince, for giving coals and
blankets to the poor, this cold weather. Look! the King and Queen are
both asleep, and your Royal Highness’s order will do.’
So Giglio, who was very good-natured, as Gruffy well knew, signed the
order immediately; and, when she had it in her pocket, you may fancy
what airs she gave herself. She was ready to flounce out of the room
before the Queen herself, as now she was the wife of the RIGHTFUL King
of Paflagonia! She would not speak to Glumboso, whom she thought a
brute, for depriving her DEAR HUSBAND of the crown! And when candles
came, and she had helped to undress the Queen and Princess, she went
into her own room, and actually practiced on a sheet of paper, ‘Griselda
Paflagonia,’ ‘Barbara Regina,’ ‘Griselda Barbara, Paf. Reg.,’ and I
don’t know what signatures besides, against the day when she should be
Queen, forsooth!
IX. HOW BETSINDA GOT THE WARMING PAN
Little Betsinda came in to put Gruffanuff’s hair in papers; and the
Countess was so pleased, that, for a wonder, she complimented Betsinda.
‘Betsinda!’ she said, ‘you dressed my hair very nicely today; I promised
you a little present. Here are five sh--no, here is a pretty little
ring, that I picked--that I have had some time.’ And she gave Betsinda
the ring she had picked up in the court. It fitted Betsinda exactly.
‘It’s like the ring the Princess used to wear,’ says the maid.
‘No such thing,’ says Gruffanuff, ‘I have had it this ever so long.
There, tuck me up quite comfortable; and now, as it’s a very cold night
(the snow was beating in at the window), you may go and warm dear Prince
Giglio’s bed, like a good girl, and then you may unrip my green silk,
and then you can just do me up a little cap for the morning, and then
you can mend that hole in my silk stocking, and then you can go to
bed, Betsinda. Mind I shall want my cup of tea at five o’clock in the
morning.’
‘I suppose I had best warm both the young gentlemen’s beds, Ma’am,’ says
Betsinda.
Gruffanuff, for reply, said, ‘Hau-au-ho!--Grauhawhoo!--Hong-hrho!’ In
fact, she was snoring sound asleep.
Her room, you know, is next to the King and Queen, and the Princess is
next to them. So pretty Betsinda went away for the coals to the kitchen,
and filled the royal warming-pan.
Now, she was a very kind, merry, civil, pretty girl; but there must
have been something very captivating about her this evening, for all
the women in the servants’ hall began to scold and abuse her. The
housekeeper said she was a pert, stuck-up thing: the upper-housemaid
asked, how dare she wear such ringlets and ribbons, it was quite
improper! The cook (for there was a woman-cook as well as a man-cook)
said to the kitchen-maid that she never could see anything in that
creetur: but as for the men, every one of them, Coachman, John, Buttons,
the page, and Monsieur, the Prince of Crim Tartary’s valet, started up,
and said--
‘My eyes!’ }
‘O mussey!’ } ‘What a pretty girl Betsinda is!’
‘O jemmany!’ }
‘O ciel!’ }
‘Hands off; none of your impertinence, you vulgar, low people!’ says
Betsinda, walking off with her pan of coals. She heard the young
gentlemen playing at billiards as she went upstairs: first to Prince
Giglio’s bed, which she warmed, and then to Prince Bulbo’s room.
He came in just as she had done; and as soon as he saw her, ‘O! O! O!
O! O! O! what a beyou--oo--ootiful creature you are! You angel--you
peri--you rosebud, let me be thy bulbul--thy Bulbo, too! Fly to the
desert, fly with me! I never saw a young gazelle to glad me with its
dark blue eye that had eyes like shine. Thou nymph of beauty, take, take
this young heart. A truer never did itself sustain within a soldier’s
waistcoat. Be mine! Be mine! Be Princess of Crim Tartary! My Royal
father will approve our union; and, as for that little carroty-haired
Angelica, I do not care a fig for her any more.’
‘Go away, Your Royal Highness, and go to bed, please,’ said Betsinda,
with the warming-pan.
But Bulbo said, ‘No, never, till thou swearest to be mine, thou lovely,
blushing chambermaid divine! Here, at thy feet, the Royal Bulbo lies,
the trembling captive of Betsinda’s eyes.’
And he went on, making himself SO ABSURD AND RIDICULOUS, that Betsinda,
who was full of fun, gave him a touch with the warming-pan, which, I
promise you, made him cry ‘O-o-o-o!’ in a very different manner.
Prince Bulbo made such a noise that Prince Giglio, who heard him from
the next room, came in to see what was the matter. As soon as he saw
what was taking place, Giglio, in a fury, rushed on Bulbo, kicked him
in the rudest manner up to the ceiling, and went on kicking him till his
hair was quite out of curl.
Poor Betsinda did not know whether to laugh or to cry; the kicking
certainly must hurt the Prince, but then he looked so droll! When Giglio
had done knocking him up and down to the ground, and whilst he went into
a corner rubbing himself, what do you think Giglio does? He goes down on
his own knees to Betsinda, takes her hand, begs her to accept his heart,
and offers to marry her that moment. Fancy Betsinda’s condition, who had
been in love with the Prince ever since she first saw him in the palace
garden, when she was quite a little child.
‘Oh, divine Betsinda!’ says the Prince, ‘how have I lived fifteen years
in thy company without seeing thy perfections? What woman in all
Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, nay, in Australia, only it is not
yet discovered, can presume to be thy equal? Angelica? Pish! Gruffanuff?
Phoo! The Queen? Ha, ha! Thou art my Queen. Thou art the real Angelica,
because thou art really angelic.’
‘Oh, Prince! I am but a poor chambermaid,’ says Betsinda, looking,
however, very much pleased.
‘Didst thou not tend me in my sickness, when all forsook me?’ continues
Giglio. ‘Did not thy gentle hand smooth my pillow, and bring me jelly
and roast chicken?’
‘Yes, dear Prince, I did,’ says Betsinda, ‘and I sewed Your Royal
Highness’s shirt-buttons on too, if you please, Your Royal Highness,’
cries this artless maiden.
When poor Prince Bulbo, who was now madly in love with Betsinda, heard
this declaration, when he saw the unmistakable glances which she flung
upon Giglio, Bulbo began to cry bitterly, and tore quantities of hair
out of his head, till it all covered the room like so much tow.
Betsinda had left the warming-pan on the floor while the princes were
going on with their conversation, and as they began now to quarrel and
be very fierce with one another, she thought proper to run away.
‘You great big blubbering booby, tearing your hair in the corner there;
of course you will give me satisfaction for insulting Betsinda. YOU dare
to kneel down at Princess Giglio’s knees and kiss her hand!’
‘She’s not Princess Giglio!’ roars out Bulbo. ‘She shall be Princess
Bulbo, no other shall be Princess Bulbo.’
‘You are engaged to my cousin!’ bellows out Giglio. ‘I hate your
cousin,’ says Bulbo.
‘You shall give me satisfaction for insulting her!’ cries Giglio in a
fury.
‘I’ll have your life.’
‘I’ll run you through.’
‘I’ll cut your throat.’
‘I’ll blow your brains out.’
‘I’ll knock your head off.’
‘I’ll send a friend to you in the morning.’
‘I’ll send a bullet into you in the afternoon.’
‘We’ll meet again,’ says Giglio, shaking his fist in Bulbo’s face; and
seizing up the warming-pan, he kissed it, because, forsooth, Betsinda
had carried it, and rushed downstairs. What should he see on the landing
but His Majesty talking to Betsinda, whom he called by all sorts of fond
names. His Majesty had heard a row in the building, so he stated, and
smelling something burning, had come out to see what the matter was.
‘It’s the young gentlemen smoking, perhaps, sir,’ says Betsinda.
‘Charming chambermaid,’ says the King (like all the rest of them),
‘never mind the young men! Turn thy eyes on a middle-aged autocrat, who
has been considered not ill-looking in his time.’
‘Oh, sir! what will Her Majesty say?’ cries Betsinda.
‘Her Majesty!’ laughs the monarch. ‘Her Majesty be hanged. Am I not
Autocrat of Paflagonia? Have I not blocks, ropes, axes, hangmen--ha?
Runs not a river by my palace wall? Have I not sacks to sew up wives
withal? Say but the word, that thou wilt be mine own,--your mistress
straightway in a sack is sewn, and thou the sharer of my heart and
throne.’
When Giglio heard these atrocious sentiments, he forgot the respect
usually paid to Royalty, lifted up the warming-pan, and knocked down the
King as flat as a pancake; after which, Master Giglio took to his
heels and ran away, and Betsinda went off screaming, and the Queen,
Gruffanuff, and the Princess, all came out of their rooms. Fancy their
feelings on beholding their husband, father, sovereign, in this posture!
X. HOW KING VALOROSO WAS IN A DREADFUL PASSION
As soon as the coals began to burn him, the King came to himself
and stood up. ‘Ho! my captain of the guards!’ His Majesty exclaimed,
stamping his royal feet with rage. O piteous spectacle! the King’s nose
was bent quite crooked by the blow of Prince Giglio! His Majesty ground
his teeth with rage. ‘Hedzoff,’ he said, taking a death-warrant out of
his dressing-gown pocket, ‘Hedzoff, good Hedzoff, seize upon the Prince.
Thou’lt find him in his chamber two pair up. But now he dared, with
sacrilegious hand, to strike the sacred night-cap of a king--Hedzoff,
and floor me with a warming-pan! Away, no more demur, the villain dies!
See it be done, or else,--h’m--ha!--h’m! mind shine own eyes!’ and
followed by the ladies, and lifting up the tails of his dressing-gown,
the King entered his own apartment.
Captain Hedzoff was very much affected, having a sincere love for
Giglio. ‘Poor, poor Giglio!’ he said, the tears rolling over his manly
face, and dripping down his moustachios; ‘my noble young Prince, is it
my hand must lead thee to death?’
‘Lead him to fiddlestick, Hedzoff,’ said a female voice. It was
Gruffanuff, who had come out in her dressing-gown when she heard the
noise. ‘The King said you were to hang the Prince. Well, hang the
Prince.’
‘I don’t understand you,’ says Hedzoff, who was not a very clever man.
‘You Gaby! he didn’t say WHICH Prince,’ says Gruffanuff.
‘No; he didn’t say which, certainly,’ said Hedzoff.
‘Well then, take Bulbo, and hang HIM!’
When Captain Hedzoff heard this, he began to dance about for joy.
‘Obedience is a soldier’s honour,’ says he. ‘Prince Bulbo’s head will do
capitally,’ and he went to arrest the Prince the very first thing next
morning.
He knocked at the door. ‘Who’s there?’ says Bulbo. ‘Captain Hedzoff?
Step in, pray, my good Captain; I’m delighted to see you; I have been
expecting you.’
‘Have you?’ says Hedzoff.
‘Sleibootz, my Chamberlain, will act for me,’ says the Prince.
‘I beg Your Royal Highness’s pardon, but you will have to act for
yourself, and it’s a pity to wake Baron Sleibootz.’
The Prince Bulbo still seemed to take the matter very coolly. ‘Of
course, Captain,’ says he, ‘you are come about that affair with Prince
Giglio?’
‘Precisely,’ says Hedzoff, ‘that affair of Prince Giglio.’
‘Is it to be pistols, or swords, Captain?’ asks Bulbo. ‘I’m a pretty
good hand with both, and I’ll do for Prince Giglio as sure as my name is
My Royal Highness Prince Bulbo.’
‘There’s some mistake, my Lord,’ says the Captain. ‘The business is done
with AXES among us.’
‘Axes? That’s sharp work,’ says Bulbo. ‘Call my Chamberlain, he’ll be my
second, and in ten minutes, I flatter myself, you’ll see Master Giglio’s
head off his impertinent shoulders. I’m hungry for his blood Hoooo, aw!’
and he looked as savage as an ogre.
‘I beg your pardon, sir, but by this warrant I am to take you prisoner,
and hand you over to--to the executioner.’
‘Pooh, pooh, my good man!--Stop, I say,--ho!--hulloa!’ was all that
this luckless Prince was enabled to say, for Hedzoff’s guards seizing
him, tied a handkerchief over his mouth and face, and carried him to the
place of execution.
The King, who happened to be talking to Glumboso, saw him pass, and
took a pinch of snuff and said, ‘So much for Giglio. Now let’s go to
breakfast.’
The Captain of the Guard handed over his prisoner to the Sheriff, with
the fatal order,
‘AT SIGHT CUT OFF THE BEARER’S HEAD. ‘VALOROSO XXIV.’
‘It’s a mistake,’ says Bulbo, who did not seem to understand the
business in the least.
‘Poo--poo--pooh,’ says the Sheriff. ‘Fetch Jack Ketch instantly. Jack
Ketch!’