block and a tremendous axe was always ready in case he should be wanted.
But we must now revert to Giglio and Betsinda.
XI. WHAT GRUFFANUFF DID TO GIGLIO AND BETSINDA
Gruffanuff, who had seen what had happened with the King, and knew that
Giglio must come to grief, got up very early the next morning, and went
to devise some plans for rescuing her darling husband, as the silly old
thing insisted on calling him. She found him walking up and down the
garden, thinking of a rhyme for Betsinda (TINDER and WINDA were all he
could find), and indeed having forgotten all about the past evening,
except that Betsinda was the most lovely of beings.
‘Well, dear Giglio,’ says Gruff.
‘Well, dear Gruffy,’ says Giglio, only HE was quite satirical.
‘I have been thinking, darling, what you must do in this scrape. You
must fly the country for a while.’
‘What scrape?--fly the country? Never without her I love, Countess,’
says Giglio.
‘No, she will accompany you, dear Prince,’ she says, in her most coaxing
accents. ‘First, we must get the jewels belonging to our royal parents.
and those of her and his present Majesty. Here is the key, duck; they
are all yours, you know, by right, for you are the rightful King of
Paflagonia, and your wife will be the rightful Queen.’
‘Will she?’ says Giglio.
‘Yes; and having got the jewels, go to Glumboso’s apartment, where,
under his bed, you will find sacks containing money to the amount of
L2I7,000,000,987,439, 13S. 6 1/2d., all belonging to you, for he took
it out of your royal father’s room on the day of his death. With this we
will fly.’
‘WE will fly?’ says Giglio.
‘Yes, you and your bride--your affianced love--your Gruffy!’ says the
Countess, with a languishing leer.
‘YOU my bride!’ says Giglio. ‘You, you hideous old woman!’
‘Oh, you--you wretch! didn’t you give me this paper promising marriage?’
cries Gruff.
‘Get away, you old goose! I love Betsinda, and Betsinda only!’ And in a
fit of terror he ran from her as quickly as he could.
‘He! he! he!’ shrieks out Gruff; ‘a promise is a promise if there are
laws in Paflagonia! And as for that monster, that wretch, that fiend,
that ugly little vixen--as for that upstart, that ingrate, that beast,
Betsinda, Master Giglio will have no little difficulty in discovering
her whereabouts. He may look very long before finding HER, I warrant. He
little knows that Miss Betsinda is--’
Is--what? Now, you shall hear. Poor Betsinda got up at five in winter’s
morning to bring her cruel mistress her tea; and instead of finding
her in a good humour, found Gruffy as cross as two sticks. The Countess
boxed Betsinda’s ears half a dozen times whilst she was dressing; but
as poor little Betsinda was used to this kind of treatment, she did not
feel any special alarm. ‘And now,’ says she, ‘when Her Majesty rings her
bell twice, I’ll trouble you, miss, to attend.’
So when the Queen’s bell rang twice, Betsinda came to Her Majesty and
made a pretty little curtsey. The Queen, the Princess, and Gruffanuff
were all three in the room. As soon as they saw her they began,
‘You wretch!’ says the Queen.
‘You little vulgar thing!’ says the Princess.
‘You beast!’ says Gruffanuff.
‘Get out of my sight!’ says the Queen.
‘Go away with you, do!’ says the Princess.
‘Quit the premises!’ says Gruffanuff.
‘Alas! and woe is me!’ very lamentable events had occurred to Betsinda
that morning, and all in consequence of that fatal warming-pan business
of the previous night. The King had offered to marry her; of course Her
Majesty the Queen was jealous: Bulbo had fallen in love with her; of
course Angelica was furious: Giglio was in love with her, and oh, what a
fury Gruffy was in!
‘Take off that {cap } I gave you,’
{petticoat} they said, all
{gown } at once,
and began tearing the clothes off poor Betsinda.
‘How (the King?’ } cried the Queen,
dare you {Prince Bulbo?’ } the Princess, and
flirt with {Prince Giglio?’ } Countess.
‘Give her the rags she wore when she came into the house, and turn her
out of it!’ cries the Queen.
‘Mind she does not go with MY shoes on, which I lent her so kindly,’
says the Princess; and indeed the Princess’s shoes were a great deal too
big for Betsinda.
‘Come with me, you filthy hussy!’ and taking up the Queen’s poker, the
cruel Gruffanuff drove Betsinda into her room.
The Countess went to the glass box in which she had kept Betsinda’s old
cloak and shoe this ever so long, and said, ‘Take those rags, you little
beggar creature, and strip off everything belonging to honest people,
and go about your business’; and she actually tore off the poor little
delicate thing’s back almost all her things, and told her to be off out
of the house.
Poor Betsinda huddled the cloak round her back, on which were
embroidered the letters PRIN. . . ROSAL. . . and then came a great rent.
As for the shoe, what was she to do with one poor little tootsey sandal?
the string was still to it, so she hung it round her neck.
‘Won’t you give me a pair of shoes to go out in the snow, mum, if you
please, mum?’ cried the poor child.
‘No, you wicked beast!’ says Gruffanuff, driving her along with the
poker--driving her down the cold stairs--driving her through the cold
hall--flinging her out into the cold street, so that the knocker itself
shed tears to see her!
But a kind fairy made the soft snow warm for her little feet, and she
wrapped herself up in the ermine of her mantle, and was gone!
‘And now let us think about breakfast,’ says the greedy Queen.
‘What dress shall I put on, mamma? the pink or the peagreen?’ says
Angelica. ‘Which do you think the dear Prince will like best?’
‘Mrs. V.!’ sings out the King from his dressing-room, ‘let us have
sausages for breakfast! Remember we have Prince Bulbo staying with us!’
And they all went to get ready.
Nine o’clock came, and they were all in the breakfast-room, and no
Prince Bulbo as yet. The urn was hissing and humming: the muffins were
smoking--such a heap of muffins! the eggs were done, there was a pot
of raspberry jam, and coffee, and a beautiful chicken and tongue on the
side-table. Marmitonio the cook brought in the sausages. Oh, how nice
they smelt!
‘Where is Bulbo?’ said the King. ‘John, where is His Royal Highness?’
John said he had a took hup His Roilighnessesses shaving-water, and
his clothes and things, and he wasn’t in his room, which he sposed His
Royliness was just stepped trout.
‘Stepped out before breakfast in the snow! Impossible!’ says the King,
sticking his fork into a sausage. ‘My dear, take one. Angelica, won’t
you have a saveloy?’ The Princess took one, being very fond of them; and
at this moment Glumboso entered with Captain Hedzoff, both looking very
much disturbed.
‘I am afraid Your Majesty--’ cries Glumboso.
‘No business before breakfast, Glum!’ says the King.’ Breakfast first,
business next. Mrs. V., some more sugar!’
‘Sire, I am afraid if we wait till after breakfast it will be too late,’
says Glumboso. ‘He--he--he’ll be hanged at half-past nine.’
‘Don’t talk about hanging and spoil my breakfast, you unkind, vulgar
man you,’ cries the Princess. ‘John, some mustard. Pray who is to be
hanged?’
‘Sire, it is the Prince,’ whispers Glumboso to the King.
‘Talk about business after breakfast, I tell you!’ says His Majesty,
quite sulky.
‘We shall have a war, Sire, depend on it,’ says the Minister. ‘His
father, King Padella. . .’
‘His father, King WHO?’ says the King. ‘King Padella is not Giglio’s
father. My brother, King Savio, was Giglio’s father.’
‘It’s Prince Bulbo they are hanging, Sire, not Prince Giglio,’ says the
Prime Minister.
‘You told me to hang the Prince, and I took the ugly one,’ says Hedzoff.
‘I didn’t, of course, think Your Majesty intended to murder your own
flesh and blood!’
The King for all reply flung the plate of sausages at Hedzoff’s head.
The Princess cried out ‘Hee-kareekaree!’ and fell down in a fainting
fit.
‘Turn the cock of the urn upon Her Royal Highness,’ said the King,
and the boiling water gradually revived her. His Majesty looked at
his watch, compared it by the clock in the parlour, and by that of the
church in the square opposite; then he wound it up; then he looked at it
again. ‘The great question is,’ says he, ‘am I fast or am I slow? If I’m
slow, we may as well go on with breakfast. If I’m fast, why, there
is just the possibility of saving Prince Bulbo. It’s a doosid awkward
mistake, and upon my word, Hedzoff, I have the greatest mind to have you
hanged too.’
‘Sire, I did but my duty; a soldier has but his orders. I didn’t expect
after forty-seven years of faithful service that my sovereign would
think of putting me to a felon’s death!’
‘A hundred thousand plagues upon you! Can’t you see that while you are
talking my Bulbo is being hung?’ screamed the Princess.
‘By Jove! she’s always right, that girl, and I’m so absent,’ says the
King, looking at his watch again. ‘Ha! there go the drums! What a doosid
awkward thing though!’
‘Oh, papa, you goose! Write the reprieve, and let me run with it,’ cries
the Princess--and she got a sheet of paper, and pen and ink, and laid
them before the King.
‘Confound it! where are my spectacles?’ the Monarch exclaimed.
‘Angelica! go up into my bedroom, look under my pillow, not your
mamma’s; there you’ll see my keys. Bring them down to me, and--Well,
well! what impetuous things these girls are!’ Angelica was gone, and had
run up panting to the bedroom, and found the keys, and was back again
before the King had finished a muffin. ‘Now, love,’ says he, ‘you must
go all the way back for my desk, in which my spectacles are. If you
would but have heard me out. . . Be hanged to her! There she is off
again. Angelica! ANGELICA!’ When His Majesty called in his LOUD voice,
she knew she must obey, and came back.
‘My dear, when you go out of a room, how often have I told you, SHUT THE
DOOR. That’s a darling. That’s all.’ At last the keys and the desk and
the spectacles were got, and the King mended his pen, and signed his
name to a reprieve, and Angelica ran with it as swift as the wind.
‘You’d better stay, my love, and finish the muffins. There’s no use
going. Be sure it’s too late. Hand me over that raspberry jam, please,’
said the Monarch. ‘Bong! Bawong! There goes the half-hour. I knew it
was.’
Angelica ran, and ran, and ran, and ran. She ran up Fore Street, and
down High Street, and through the Market-place, and down to the left,
and over the bridge, and up the blind alley, and back again, and round
by the Castle, and so along by the Haberdasher’s on the right, opposite
the lamp-post, and round the square, and she came--she came to the
EXECUTION PLACE, where she saw Bulbo laying his head on the block!!! The
executioner raised his axe, but at that moment the Princess came panting
up and cried ‘Reprieve!’ ‘Reprieve!’ screamed the Princess. ‘Reprieve!’
shouted all the people. Up the scaffold stairs she sprang, with the
agility of a lighter of lamps; and flinging herself in Bulbo’s arms,
regardless of all ceremony, she cried out, ‘Oh, my Prince! my lord! my
love! my Bulbo! Thine Angelica has been in time to save thy precious
existence, sweet rosebud; to prevent thy being nipped in thy young
bloom! Had aught befallen thee, Angelica too had died, and welcomed
death that joined her to her Bulbo.’
‘H’m! there’s no accounting for tastes,’ said Bulbo, looking so very
much puzzled and uncomfortable that the Princess, in tones of tenderest
strain, asked the cause of his disquiet.
‘I tell you what it is, Angelica,’ said he, ‘since I came here
yesterday, there has been such a row, and disturbance, and quarrelling,
and fighting, and chopping of heads off, and the deuce to pay, that I am
inclined to go back to Crim Tartary.’
‘But with me as thy bride, my Bulbo! Though wherever thou art is Crim
Tartary to me, my bold, my beautiful, my Bulbo!’
‘Well, well, I suppose we must be married,’ says Bulbo. ‘Doctor, you
came to read the Funeral Service--read the Marriage Service, will you?
What must be, must. That will satisfy Angelica, and then, in the name of
peace and quietness, do let us go back to breakfast.’
Bulbo had carried a rose in his mouth all the time of the dismal
ceremony. It was a fairy rose, and he was told by his mother that he
ought never to part with it. So he had kept it between his teeth, even
when he laid his poor head upon the block, hoping vaguely that some
chance would turn up in his favour. As he began to speak to Angelica,
he forgot about the rose, and of course it dropped out of his mouth.
The romantic Princess instantly stooped and seized it. ‘Sweet rose!’ she
exclaimed, ‘that bloomed upon my Bulbo’s lip, never, never will I part
from thee!’ and she placed it in her bosom. And you know Bulbo COULDN’T
ask her to give the rose back again. And they went to breakfast; and as
they walked, it appeared to Bulbo that Angelica became more exquisitely
lovely every moment.
He was frantic until they were married; and now, strange to say, it was
Angelica who didn’t care about him! He knelt down, he kissed her hand,
he prayed and begged; he cried with admiration; while she for her part
said she really thought they might wait; it seemed to her he was not
handsome any more--no, not at all, quite the reverse; and not clever,
no, very stupid; and not well bred, like Giglio; no, on the contrary,
dreadfully vul--
What, I cannot say, for King Valoroso roared out ‘POOH, stuff!’ in a
terrible voice. ‘We will have no more of this shilly-shallying! Call the
Archbishop, and let the Prince and Princess be married offhand!’
So, married they were, and I am sure for my part I trust they will be
happy.
XII. HOW BETSINDA FLED, AND WHAT BECAME OF HER
Betsinda wandered on and on, till she passed through the town gates, and
so on the great Crim Tartary road, the very way on which Giglio too
was going. ‘Ah!’ thought she, as the diligence passed her, of which the
conductor was blowing a delightful tune on his horn, ‘how I should like
to be on that coach!’ But the coach and the jingling horses were very
soon gone. She little knew who was in it, though very likely she was
thinking of him all the time.
Then came an empty cart, returning from market; and the driver being
a kind man, and seeing such a very pretty girl trudging along the road
with bare feet, most good-naturedly gave her a seat. He said he lived on
the confines of the forest, where his old father was a woodman, and, if
she liked, he would take her so far on her road. All roads were the same
to little Betsinda, so she very thankfully took this one.
And the carter put a cloth round her bare feet, and gave her some bread
and cold bacon, and was very kind to her. For all that she was very cold
and melancholy. When after travelling on and on, evening came, and all
the black pines were bending with snow, and there, at last, was the
comfortable light beaming in the woodman’s windows; and so they arrived,
and went into his cottage. He was an old man, and had a number of
children, who were just at supper, with nice hot bread-and-milk, when
their elder brother arrived with the cart. And they jumped and clapped
their hands; for they were good children; and he had brought them toys
from the town. And when they saw the pretty stranger, they ran to
her, and brought her to the fire, and rubbed her poor little feet, and
brought her bread and milk.
‘Look, father!’ they said to the old woodman, ‘look at this poor girl,
and see what pretty cold feet she has. They are as white as our milk!
And look and see what an odd cloak she has, just like the bit of velvet
that hangs up in our cupboard, and which you found that day the little
cubs were killed by King Padella, in the forest! And look, why, bless
us all! she has got round her neck just such another little shoe as
that you brought home, and have shown us so often--a little blue velvet
shoe!’
‘What,’ said the old woodman, ‘what is all this about a shoe and a
cloak?’
And Betsinda explained that she had been left, when quite a little
child, at the town with this cloak and this shoe. And the persons who
had taken care of her had--had been angry with her, for no fault, she
hoped, of her own. And they had sent her away with her old clothes--and
here, in fact, she was. She remembered having been in a forest--and
perhaps it was a dream--it was so very odd and strange--having lived in
a cave with lions there; and, before that, having lived in a very, very
fine house, as fine as the King’s, in the town.
When the woodman heard this, he was so astonished, it was quite curious
to see how astonished he was. He went to his cupboard, and took out of
a stocking a five-shilling piece of King Cavolfiore, and vowed it was
exactly like the young woman. And then he produced the shoe and piece
of velvet which he had kept so long, and compared them with the things
which Betsinda wore. In Betsinda’s little shoe was written, ‘Hopkins,
maker to the Royal Family’; so in the other shoe was written, ‘Hopkins,
maker to the Royal Family.’ In the inside of Betsinda’s piece of
cloak was embroidered, ‘PRIN ROSAL’; in the other piece of cloak was
embroidered ‘CESS BA. NO. 246.’ So that when put together you read,
‘PRINCESS ROSALBA. NO. 246.’
On seeing this, the dear old woodman fell down on his knee, saying,
‘O my Princess, O my gracious royal lady, O my rightful Queen of Crim
Tartary,--I hail thee--I acknowledge thee--I do thee homage!’ And in
token of his fealty, he rubbed his venerable nose three times on the
ground, and put the Princess’s foot on his head.
‘Why,’ said she, ‘my good woodman, you must be a nobleman of my royal
father’s Court!’ For in her lowly retreat, and under the name of
Betsinda, HER MAJESTY, ROSALBA, Queen of Crim Tartary, had read of the
customs of all foreign courts and nations.
‘Marry, indeed, am I, my gracious liege--the poor Lord Spinachi
once--the humble woodman these fifteen years syne. Ever since the tyrant
Padella (may ruin overtake the treacherous knave!) dismissed me from my
post of First Lord.’
‘First Lord of the Toothpick and Joint Keeper of the Snuffbox? I mind
me! Thou heldest these posts under our royal Sire. They are restored to
thee, Lord Spinachi! I make thee knight of the second class of our Order
of the Pumpkin (the first class being reserved for crowned heads alone).
Rise, Marquis of Spinachi!’ And with indescribable majesty, the Queen,
who had no sword handy, waved the pewter spoon with which she had been
taking her bread-and-milk, over the bald head of the old nobleman, whose
tears absolutely made a puddle on the ground, and whose dear children
went to bed that night Lords and Ladies Bartolomeo, Ubaldo, Catarina,
and Ottavia degli Spinachi!
The acquaintance HER MAJESTY showed with the history, and noble families
of her empire, was wonderful. ‘The House of Broccoli should remain
faithful to us,’ she said; ‘they were ever welcome at our Court. Have
the Articiocchi, as was their wont, turned to the Rising Sun? The family
of Sauerkraut must sure be with us--they were ever welcome in the halls
of King Cavolfiore.’ And so she went on enumerating quite a list of
the nobility and gentry of Crim Tartary, so admirably had Her Majesty
profited by her studies while in exile.
The old Marquis of Spinachi said he could answer for them all; that the
whole country groaned under Padella’s tyranny, and longed to return to
its rightful sovereign; and late as it was, he sent his children, who
knew the forest well, to summon this nobleman and that; and when his
eldest son, who had been rubbing the horse down and giving him his
supper, came into the house for his own, the Marquis told him to put his
boots on, and a saddle on the mare, and ride hither and thither to such
and such people.
When the young man heard who his companion in the cart had been, he too
knelt down and put her royal foot on his head; he too bedewed the ground
with his tears; he was frantically in love with her, as everybody now
was who saw her: so were the young Lords Bartolomeo and Ubaldo, who
punched each other’s little heads out of jealousy; and so, when they
came from east and west at the summons of the Marquis degli Spinachi,
were the Crim Tartar Lords who still remained faithful to the House of
Cavolfiore. They were such very old gentlemen for the most part that Her
Majesty never suspected their absurd passion, and went among them quite
unaware of the havoc her beauty was causing, until an old blind Lord who
had joined her party told her what the truth was; after which, for fear
of making the people too much in love with her, she always wore a veil.
She went about privately, from one nobleman’s castle to another; and
they visited among themselves again, and had meetings, and composed
proclamations and counter-proclamations, and distributed all the best
places of the kingdom amongst one another, and selected who of the
opposition party should be executed when the Queen came to her own. And
so in about a year they were ready to move.
The party of Fidelity was in truth composed of very feeble old fogies
for the most part; they went about the country waving their old swords
and flags, and calling ‘God save the Queen!’ and King Padella happening
to be absent upon an invasion, they had their own way for a little,
and to be sure the people were very enthusiastic whenever they saw the
Queen; otherwise the vulgar took matters very quietly, for they said,
as far as they could recollect, they were pretty well as much taxed in
Cavolfiore’s time, as now in Padella’s.
XIII. HOW QUEEN ROSALBA CAME TO THE CASTLE OF THE BOLD COUNT HOGGINARMO
Her Majesty, having indeed nothing else to give, made all her followers
Knights of the Pumpkin, and Marquises, Earls, and Baronets; and they had
a little court for her, and made her a little crown of gilt paper, and a
robe of cotton velvet; and they quarrelled about the places to be given
away in her court, and about rank and precedence and dignities;--you
can’t think how they quarrelled! The poor Queen was very tired of her
honours before she had had them a month, and I dare say sighed sometimes
even to be a lady’s-maid again. But we must all do our duty in our
respective stations, so the Queen resigned herself to perform hers.
We have said how it happened that none of the Usurper’s troops came out
to oppose this Army of Fidelity: it pottered along as nimbly as the
gout of the principal commanders allowed: it consisted of twice as many
officers as soldiers: and at length passed near the estates of one of
the most powerful noblemen of the country, who had not declared for the
Queen, but of whom her party had hopes, as he was always quarrelling
with King Padella.
When they came close to his park gates, this nobleman sent to say he
would wait upon Her Majesty: he was a most powerful warrior, and his
name was Count Hogginarmo, whose helmet it took two strong negroes to
carry. He knelt down before her and said, ‘Madam and liege lady! it
becomes the great nobles of the Crimean realm to show every outward sign
of respect to the wearer of the Crown, whoever that may be. We testify
to our own nobility in acknowledging yours. The bold Hogginarmo bends
the knee to the first of the aristocracy of his country.’
Rosalba said, ‘The bold Count of Hogginarmo was uncommonly kind.’ But
she felt afraid of him, even while he was kneeling, and his eyes scowled
at her from between his whiskers, which grew up to them.
‘The first Count of the Empire, madam,’ he went on, ‘salutes the
Sovereign. The Prince addresses himself to the not more noble lady!
Madam, my hand is free, and I offer it, and my heart and my sword to
your service! My three wives lie buried in my ancestral vaults. The
third perished but a year since; and this heart pines for a consort!
Deign to be mine, and I swear to bring to your bridal table the head of
King Padella, the eyes and nose of his son Prince Bulbo, the right hand
and ears of the usurping Sovereign of Paflagonia, which country shall
thenceforth be an appanage to your--to OUR Crown! Say yes; Hogginarmo is
not accustomed to be denied. Indeed I cannot contemplate the possibility
of a refusal: for frightful will be the result; dreadful the murders;
furious the devastations; horrible the tyranny; tremendous the tortures,
misery, taxation, which the people of this realm will endure, if
Hogginarmo’s wrath be aroused! I see consent in Your Majesty’s lovely
eyes--their glances fill my soul with rapture!’