{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_20850/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_20850","id":"gutenberg_20850","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/20850","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Novels","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Children's stories","Fairy tales"],"text":"Transcribed from the 1889 J. W. Arrowsmith edition by David Price, email\nccx074@pglaf.org\n\n{Book cover: cover.jpg}\n\n\n\n\n\nPRINCE PRIGIO\n\n\nBY\nANDREW LANG\nAUTHOR OF\n\"THE MARK OF CAIN, \"THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE\"\nETC.\n\nTwenty-seven Illustrations by Gordon Browne\n\n1889\nBRISTOL\nJ. W. ARROWSMITH, QUAY STREET\nLONDON\nSIMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO., 4 STATIONERS' HALL COURT\n_All rights reserved_\n\n{\"So the two went into the gardens together, and talked about a number\nof things.\": p0.jpg}\n\nPRINCE PRIGIO\nIS\nDedicated\nTO\nALMA\nTHYRA\nEDITH\nROSALIND\nNORNA\nCECILY\nAND VIOLET\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nIn compiling the following History from the Archives of Pantouflia, the\nEditor has incurred several obligations to the Learned.  The Return of\nBenson (chapter xii.) is the fruit of the research of the late Mr. ALLEN\nQUATERMAIN, while the final _wish_ of Prince Prigio was suggested by the\ninvention or erudition of a Lady.\n\nA study of the _Firedrake_ in South Africa--where he is called the\n_Nanaboulele_, a difficult word--has been published in French (translated\nfrom the Basuto language) by M. PAUL SEBILLOT, in the _Revue des\nTraditione Populaires_.  For the _Remora_, the Editor is indebted to the\n_Voyage a la Lune_ of M. CYRANO DE BERGERAC.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n\n{Chapter heading picture: p1.jpg}\n\n_How the Fairies were not Invited to Court_.\n\nOnce upon a time there reigned in Pantouflia a king and a queen.  With\nalmost everything else to make them happy, they wanted one thing: they\nhad no children.  This vexed the king even more than the queen, who was\nvery clever and learned, and who had hated dolls when she was a child.\nHowever, she, too in spite of all the books she read and all the pictures\nshe painted, would have been glad enough to be the mother of a little\nprince.  The king was anxious to consult the fairies, but the queen would\nnot hear of such a thing.  She did not believe in fairies: she said that\nthey had never existed; and that she maintained, though _The History of\nthe Royal Family_ was full of chapters about nothing else.\n\nWell, at long and at last they had a little boy, who was generally\nregarded as the finest baby that had ever been seen.  Even her majesty\nherself remarked that, though she could never believe all the courtiers\ntold her, yet he certainly was a fine child--a very fine child.\n\nNow, the time drew near for the christening party, and the king and queen\nwere sitting at breakfast in their summer parlour talking over it.  It\nwas a splendid room, hung with portraits of the royal ancestors.  There\nwas Cinderella, the grandmother of the reigning monarch, with her little\nfoot in her glass slipper thrust out before her.  There was the Marquis\nde Carabas, who, as everyone knows, was raised to the throne as prince\nconsort after his marriage with the daughter of the king of the period.\nOn the arm of the throne was seated his celebrated cat, wearing boots.\nThere, too, was a portrait of a beautiful lady, sound asleep: this was\nMadame La Belle au Bois-dormant, also an ancestress of the royal family.\nMany other pictures of celebrated persons were hanging on the walls.\n\n\"You have asked all the right people, my dear?\" said the king.\n\n\"Everyone who should be asked,\" answered the queen.\n\n\"People are so touchy on these occasions,\" said his majesty.  \"You have\nnot forgotten any of our aunts?\"\n\n\"No; the old cats!\" replied the queen; for the king's aunts were\nold-fashioned, and did not approve of her, and she knew it.\n\n\"They are very kind old ladies in their way,\" said the king; \"and were\nnice to me when I was a boy.\"\n\nThen he waited a little, and remarked:\n\n\"The fairies, of course, you have invited?  It has always been usual, in\nour family, on an occasion like this; and I think we have neglected them\na little of late.\"\n\n\"How _can_ you be so _absurd_?\" cried the queen.  \"How often must I tell\nyou that there are _no_ fairies?  And even if there were--but, no matter;\npray let us drop the subject.\"\n\n\"They are very old friends of our family, my dear, that's all,\" said the\nking timidly.  \"Often and often they have been godmothers to us.  One, in\nparticular, was most kind and most serviceable to Cinderella I., my own\ngrandmother.\"\n\n\"Your grandmother!\" interrupted her majesty.  \"Fiddle-de-dee!  If anyone\nputs such nonsense into the head of my little Prigio--\"\n\nBut here the baby was brought in by the nurse, and the queen almost\ndevoured it with kisses.  And so the fairies were not invited!  It was an\nextraordinary thing, but none of the nobles could come to the christening\nparty when they learned that the fairies had not been asked.  Some were\nabroad; several were ill; a few were in prison among the Saracens; others\nwere captives in the dens of ogres.  The end of it was that the king and\nqueen had to sit down alone, one at each end of a very long table,\narrayed with plates and glasses for a hundred guests--for a hundred\nguests who never came!\n\n\"Any soup, my dear?\" shouted the king, through a speaking-trumpet; when,\nsuddenly, the air was filled with a sound like the rustling of the wings\nof birds.\n\n_Flitter_, _flitter_, _flutter_, went the noise; and when the queen\nlooked up, lo and behold! on every seat was a lovely fairy, dressed in\ngreen, each with a _most interesting-looking parcel_ in her hand.  Don't\nyou like opening parcels?  The king did, and he was most friendly and\npolite to the fairies.  But the queen, though she saw them distinctly,\ntook no notice of them.  You see, she did not believe in fairies, nor in\nher own eyes, when she saw them.  So she talked across the fairies to the\nking, just as if they had not been there; but the king behaved as\npolitely as if they were _real_--which, of course, they were.\n\nWhen dinner was over, and when the nurse had brought in the baby, all the\nfairies gave him the most magnificent presents.  One offered a purse\nwhich could never be empty; and one a pair of seven-leagued boots; and\nanother a cap of darkness, that nobody might see the prince when he put\nit on; and another a wishing-cap; and another a carpet, on which, when he\nsat, he was carried wherever he wished to find himself.  Another made him\nbeautiful for ever; and another, brave; and another, lucky: but the last\nfairy of all, a cross old thing, crept up and said, \"My child, you shall\nbe _too_ clever!\"\n\nThis fairy's gift would have pleased the queen, if she had believed in\nit, more than anything else, because she was so clever herself.  But she\ntook no notice at all; and the fairies went each to her own country, and\nnone of them stayed there at the palace, where nobody believed in them,\nexcept the king, a little.  But the queen tossed all their nice boots and\ncaps, carpets, purses, swords, and all, away into a dark lumber-room;\nfor, of course, she thought that they were _all nonsense_, and merely old\nrubbish out of books, or pantomime \"properties.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n\n{Chapter heading picture: p9.jpg}\n\n_Prince Prigio and his Family_.\n\nWell, the little prince grew up.  I think I've told you that his name was\nPrigio--did I not?  Well, that _was_ his name.  You cannot think how\nclever he was.  He argued with his nurse as soon as he could speak, which\nwas very soon.  He argued that he did not like to be washed, because the\nsoap got into his eyes.  However, when he was told all about the _pores\nof the skin_, and how they could not be healthy if he was not washed, he\nat once ceased to resist, for he was very reasonable.  He argued with his\nfather that he did not see why there should be kings who were rich, while\nbeggars were poor; and why the king--who was a little greedy--should have\npoached eggs and plum-cake at afternoon tea, while many other persons\nwent without dinner.  The king was so surprised and hurt at these remarks\nthat he boxed the prince's ears, saying, \"I'll teach you to be too\nclever, my lad.\" Then he remembered the awful curse of the oldest fairy,\nand was sorry for the rudeness of the queen.  And when the prince, after\nhaving his ears boxed, said that \"force was no argument,\" the king went\naway in a rage.\n\n{Prigio reading a book: p11.jpg}\n\nIndeed, I cannot tell you how the prince was hated by all!  He would go\ndown into the kitchen, and show the cook how to make soup.  He would\nvisit the poor people's cottage, and teach them how to make the beds, and\nhow to make plum-pudding out of turnip-tops, and venison cutlets out of\nrusty bacon.  He showed the fencing-master how to fence, and the\nprofessional cricketer how to bowl, and instructed the rat-catcher in\nbreeding terriers.  He set sums to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and\nassured the Astronomer Royal that the sun does not go round the\nearth--which, for my part, I believe it does.  The young ladies of the\nCourt disliked dancing with him, in spite of his good looks, because he\nwas always asking, \"Have you read this?\" and \"Have you read that?\"--and\nwhen they said they hadn't, he sneered; and when they said they _had_, he\nfound them out.\n\nHe found out all his tutors and masters in the same horrid way;\ncorrecting the accent of his French teacher, and trying to get his German\ntutor not to eat peas with his knife.  He also endeavoured to teach the\nqueen-dowager, his grandmother, an art with which she had long been\nperfectly familiar!  In fact, he knew everything better than anybody\nelse; and the worst of it was that he _did_: and he was never in the\nwrong, and he always said, \"Didn't I tell you so?\"  And, what was more,\nhe _had_!\n\nAs time went on, Prince Prigio had two younger brothers, whom everybody\nliked.  They were not a bit clever, but jolly.  Prince Alphonso, the\nthird son, was round, fat, good-humoured, and as brave as a lion.  Prince\nEnrico, the second, was tall, thin, and a little sad, but _never_ too\nclever.  Both were in love with two of their own cousins (with the\napproval of their dear parents); and all the world said, \"What nice,\nunaffected princes they are!\"  But Prigio nearly got the country into\nseveral wars by being too clever for the foreign ambassadors.  Now, as\nPantouflia was a rich, lazy country, which hated fighting, this was very\nunpleasant, and did not make people love Prince Prigio any better.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n\n_About the Firedrake_.\n\nOf all the people who did not like Prigio, his own dear papa, King\nGrognio, disliked him most.  For the king knew he was not clever,\nhimself.  When he was in the counting-house, counting out his money, and\nwhen he happened to say, \"Sixteen shillings and fourteen and twopence are\nthree pounds, fifteen,\" it made him wild to hear Prigio whisper, \"One\npound, ten and twopence\"--which, of course, it _is_.  And the king was\nafraid that Prigio would conspire, and get made king himself--which was\nthe last thing Prigio really wanted.  He much preferred to idle about,\nand know everything without seeming to take any trouble.\n\n{The King at his desk: p15.jpg}\n\nWell, the king thought and thought.  How was he to get Prigio out of the\nway, and make Enrico or Alphonso his successor?  He read in books about\nit; and all the books showed that, if a king sent his three sons to do\nanything, it was always the youngest who did it, and got the crown.  And\nhe wished he had the chance.  Well, it arrived at last.\n\nThere was a very hot summer!  It began to be hot in March.  All the\nrivers were dried up.  The grass did not grow.  The corn did not grow.\nThe thermometers exploded with heat.  The barometers stood at SET FAIR.\nThe people were much distressed, and came and broke the palace windows--as\nthey usually do when things go wrong in Pantouflia.\n\nThe king consulted the learned men about the Court, who told him that\nprobably a\n\nFIREDRAKE\n\nwas in the neighbourhood.\n\nNow, the Firedrake is a beast, or bird, about the bigness of an elephant.\nIts body is made of iron, and it is always red-hot.  A more terrible and\ncruel beast cannot be imagined; for, if you go near it, you are at once\nbroiled by the Firedrake.\n\nBut the king was not ill-pleased: \"for,\" thought he, \"of course my three\nsons must go after the brute, the eldest first; and, as usual, it will\nkill the first two, and be beaten by the youngest.  It is a little hard\non Enrico, poor boy; but _anything_ to get rid of that Prigio!\"\n\nThen the king went to Prigio, and said that his country was in danger,\nand that he was determined to leave the crown to whichever of them would\nbring him the horns (for it has horns) and tail of the Firedrake.\n\n\"It is an awkward brute to tackle,\" the king said, \"but you are the\noldest, my lad; go where glory waits you!  Put on your armour, and be off\nwith you!\"\n\n{\"Put on your armour and be off with you!\": p18.jpg}\n\nThis the king said, hoping that either the Firedrake would roast Prince\nPrigio alive (which he could easily do, as I have said; for he is all\nover as hot as a red-hot poker), or that, if the prince succeeded, at\nleast his country would be freed from the monster.\n\nBut the prince, who was lying on the sofa doing sums in compound division\nfor fun, said in the politest way:\n\n\"Thanks to the education your majesty has given me, I have learned that\nthe Firedrake, like the siren, the fairy, and so forth, is a fabulous\nanimal which does not exist.  But even granting, for the sake of\nargument, that there is a Firedrake, your majesty is well aware that\nthere is no kind of use in sending _me_.  It is always the eldest son who\ngoes out first and comes to grief on these occasions, and it is always\nthe third son that succeeds.  Send Alphonso\" (this was the youngest\nbrother), \"and _he_ will do the trick at once.  At least, if he fails, it\nwill be most unusual, and Enrico can try his luck.\"\n\nThen he went back to his arithmetic and his slate, and the king had to\nsend for Prince Alphonso and Prince Enrico.  They both came in very warm;\nfor they had been whipping tops, and the day was unusually hot.\n\n\"Look here,\" said the king, \"just you two younger ones look at Prigio!\nYou see how hot it is, and how coolly he takes it, and the country\nsuffering; and all on account of a Firedrake, you know, which has\napparently built his nest not far off.  Well, I have asked that lout of a\nbrother of yours to kill it, and he says--\"\n\n\"That he does not believe in Firedrakes,\" interrupted Prigio.  \"The\nweather's warm enough without going out hunting!\"\n\n\"Not believe in Firedrakes!\" cried Alphonso.  \"I wonder what you _do_\nbelieve in!  Just let me get at the creature!\" for he was as brave as a\nlion.  \"Hi!  Page, my chain-armour, helmet, lance, and buckler!  _A\nMolinda_!  _A Molinda_!\" which was his _war-cry_.\n\nThe page ran to get the armour; but it was so _uncommonly hot_ that he\ndropped it, and put his fingers in his mouth, crying!\n\n{The page crying: p21.jpg}\n\n\"You had better put on flannels, Alphonso, for this kind of work,\" said\nPrigio.  \"And if I were you, I'd take a light garden-engine, full of\nwater, to squirt at the enemy.\"\n\n\"Happy thought!\" said Alphonso.  \"I will!\"  And off he went, kissed his\ndear Molinda, bade her keep a lot of dances for him (there was to be a\ndance when he had killed the Firedrake), and then he rushed to the field!\n\nBut he never came back any more!\n\nEveryone wept bitterly--everyone but Prince Prigio; for he thought it was\na practical joke, and said that Alphonso had taken the opportunity to\nstart off on his travels and see the world.\n\n\"There is some dreadful mistake, sir,\" said Prigio to the king.  \"You\nknow as well as I do that the youngest son has always succeeded, up to\nnow.  But I entertain great hopes of Enrico!\"\n\nAnd he grinned; for he fancied it was all _nonsense_, and that there were\nno Firedrakes.\n\nEnrico was present when Prigio was consoling the king in this unfeeling\nway.\n\n\"Enrico, my boy,\" said his majesty, \"the task awaits you, and the honour.\nWhen _you_ come back with the horns and tail of the Firedrake, you shall\nbe crown prince; and Prigio shall be made an usher at the Grammar\nSchool--it is all he is fit for.\"\n\nEnrico was not quite so confident as Alphonso had been.  He insisted on\nmaking his will; and he wrote a poem about the pleasures and advantages\nof dying young.  This is part of it:\n\n   _The violet is a blossom sweet_,\n      _That droops before the day is done_--\n   _Slain by thine overpowering heat_,\n         _O Sun_!\n\n   _And I_, _like that sweet purple flower_,\n      _May roast_, _or boil_, _or broil_, _or bake_,\n   _If burned by thy terrific power_,\n         _Firedrake_!\n\nThis poem comforted Enrico more or less, and he showed it to Prigio.  But\nthe prince only laughed, and said that the second line of the last verse\nwas not very good; for violets do not \"roast, or boil, or broil, or\nbake.\"\n\nEnrico tried to improve it, but could not.  So he read it to his cousin,\nLady Kathleena, just as it was; and she cried over it (though I don't\nthink she understood it); and Enrico cried a little, too.\n\nHowever, next day he started, with a spear, a patent refrigerator, and a\nlot of the bottles people throw at fires to put them out.\n\nBut _he_ never came back again!\n\nAfter shedding torrents of tears, the king summoned Prince Prigio to his\npresence.\n\n\"Dastard!\" he said.  \"Poltroon!  _Your_ turn, which should have come\nfirst, has arrived at last.  _You_ must fetch me the horns and the tail\nof the Firedrake.  Probably you will be grilled, thank goodness; but who\nwill give me back Enrico and Alphonso?\"\n\n\"Indeed, your majesty,\" said Prigio, \"you must permit me to correct your\npolicy.  Your only reason for dispatching your sons in pursuit of this\ndangerous but I believe _fabulous_ animal, was to ascertain which of us\nwould most worthily succeed to your throne, at the date--long may it be\ndeferred!--of your lamented decease.  Now, there can be no further\nquestion about the matter.  I, unworthy as I am, represent the sole hope\nof the royal family.  Therefore to send me after the Firedrake were {25}\nboth dangerous and unnecessary.  Dangerous, because, if he treats me as\nyou say he did my brothers--my unhappy brothers,--the throne of\nPantouflia will want an heir.  But, if I do come back alive--why, I\ncannot be more the true heir than I am at present; now _can_ I?  Ask the\nLord Chief Justice, if you don't believe _me_.\"\n\nThese arguments were so clearly and undeniably correct that the king,\nunable to answer them, withdrew into a solitary place where he could\nexpress himself with freedom, and give rein to his expression.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n\n_How Prince Prigio was Deserted by Everybody_.\n\nMeanwhile, Prince Prigio had to suffer many unpleasant things.  Though he\nwas the crown prince (and though his arguments were unanswerable),\neverybody shunned him for a coward.  The queen, who did not believe in\nFiredrakes, alone took his side.  He was not only avoided by all, but he\nhad most disagreeable scenes with his own cousins, Lady Molinda and Lady\nKathleena.  In the garden Lady Molinda met him walking alone, and did not\nbow to him.\n\n\"Dear Molly,\" said the prince, who liked her, \"how have I been so\nunfortunate as to offend you?\"\n\n\"My name, sir, is Lady Molinda,\" she said, very proudly; \"and you have\nsent your own brother to his grave!\"\n\n\"Oh, excuse me,\" said the prince, \"I am certain he has merely gone off on\nhis travels.  He'll come back when he's tired: there _are_ no Firedrakes;\na French writer says they are 'purement fabuleux,' purely fabulous, you\nknow.\"\n\n{\"My name, sir, is Lady Molinda, she said.\": p29.jpg}\n\n\"Prince Alphonso has gone on his travels, and will come back when he is\ntired!  And was he then--tired--of _me_?\" cried poor Molinda, bursting\ninto tears, and forgetting her dignity.\n\n\"Oh!  I beg your pardon, I never noticed; I'm sure I am very sorry,\"\ncried the prince, who, never having been in love himself, never thought\nof other people.  And he tried to take Molinda's hand, but she snatched\nit from him and ran away through the garden to the palace, leaving Prince\nPrigio to feel foolish, for once, and ashamed.\n\nAs for Lady Kathleena, she swept past him like a queen, without a word.\nSo the prince, for all his cleverness, was not happy.\n\nAfter several days had gone by, the king returned from the solitary place\nwhere he had been speaking his mind.  He now felt calmer and better; and\nso at last he came back to the palace.  But on seeing Prince Prigio, who\nwas lolling in a hammock, translating Egyptian hieroglyphs into French\npoetry for his mother, the king broke out afresh, and made use of the\nmost cruel and impolite expressions.\n\nAt last, he gave orders that all the Court should pack up and move to a\ndistant city; and that Prince Prigio should be left alone in the palace\nby himself.  For he was quite unendurable, the king said, and he could\nnot trust his own temper when he thought of him.  And he grew so fierce,\nthat even the queen was afraid of him now.\n\nThe poor queen cried a good deal; Prigio being her favourite son, on\naccount of his acknowledged ability and talent.  But the rest of the\ncourtiers were delighted at leaving Prince Prigio behind.  For his part,\nhe, very good-naturedly, showed them the best and shortest road to\nFalkenstein, the city where they were going; and easily proved that\nneither the chief secretary for geography, nor the general of the army,\nknew anything about the matter--which, indeed, they did not.\n\nThe ungrateful courtiers left Prigio with hoots and yells, for they\ndisliked him so much that they forgot he would be king one day.  He\ntherefore reminded them of this little fact in future history, which made\nthem feel uncomfortable enough, and then lay down in his hammock and went\nto sleep.\n\nWhen he wakened, the air was cold and the day was beginning to grow dark.\nPrince Prigio thought he would go down and dine at a tavern in the town,\nfor no servants had been left with him.  But what was his annoyance when\nhe found that his boots, his sword, his cap, his cloak--all his clothes,\nin fact, except those he wore,--had been taken away by the courtiers,\nmerely to spite him!  His wardrobe had been ransacked, and everything\nthat had not been carried off had been cut up, burned, and destroyed.\nNever was such a spectacle of wicked mischief.  It was as if hay had been\nmade of everything he possessed.  What was worse, he had not a penny in\nhis pocket to buy new things; and his father had stopped his allowance of\nfifty thousand pounds a month.\n\nCan you imagine anything more cruel and _unjust_ than this conduct? for\nit was not the prince's fault that he was so clever.  The cruel fairy had\nmade him so.  But, even if the prince had been born clever (as may have\nhappened to you), was he to be blamed for that?  The other people were\njust as much in fault for being born so stupid; but the world, my dear\nchildren, can never be induced to remember this.  If you are clever, you\nwill find it best not to let people know it--if you want them to like\nyou.\n\nWell, here was the prince in a pretty plight.  Not a pound in his pocket,\nnot a pair of boots to wear, not even a cap to cover his head from the\nrain; nothing but cold meat to eat, and never a servant to answer the\nbell.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n\n_What Prince Prigio found in the Garret_.\n\nThe prince walked from room to room of the palace; but, unless he wrapped\nhimself up in a curtain, there was nothing for him to wear when he went\nout in the rain.  At last he climbed up a turret-stair in the very oldest\npart of the castle, where he had never been before; and at the very top\nwas a little round room, a kind of garret.  The prince pushed in the door\nwith some difficulty--not that it was locked, but the handle was rusty,\nand the wood had swollen with the damp.  The room was very dark; only the\nlast grey light of the rainy evening came through a slit of a window, one\nof those narrow windows that they used to fire arrows out of in old\ntimes.\n\nBut in the dusk the prince saw a heap of all sorts of things lying on the\nfloor and on the table.  There were two caps; he put one on--an old,\ngrey, ugly cap it was, made of felt.  There was a pair of boots; and he\nkicked off his slippers, and got into _them_.  They were a good deal\nworn, but fitted as if they had been made for him.  On the table was a\npurse with just three gold coins--old ones, too--in it; and this, as you\nmay fancy, the prince was very well pleased to put in his pocket.  A\nsword, with a sword-belt, he buckled about his waist; and the rest of the\narticles, a regular collection of odds and ends, he left just where they\nwere lying.  Then he ran downstairs, and walked out of the hall door.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n\n_What Happened to Prince Prigio in Town_.\n\nBy this time the prince was very hungry.  The town was just three miles\noff; but he had such a royal appetite, that he did not like to waste it\non bad cookery, and the people of the royal town were bad cooks.\n\n\"I wish I were in 'The Bear,' at Gluckstein,\" said he to himself; for he\nremembered that there was a very good cook there.  But, then, the town\nwas twenty-one leagues away--sixty-three long miles!\n\nNo sooner had the prince said this, and taken just three steps, than he\nfound himself at the door of the \"Bear Inn\" at Gluckstein!\n\n\"This is the most extraordinary dream,\" said he to himself; for he was\nfar too clever, of course, to believe in seven-league boots.  Yet he had\na pair on at that very moment, and it was they which had carried him in\nthree strides from the palace to Gluckstein!\n\nThe truth is, that the prince, in looking about the palace for clothes,\nhad found his way into that very old lumber-room where the magical gifts\nof the fairies had been thrown by his clever mother, who did not believe\nin them.  But this, of course, the prince did not know.\n\nNow you should be told that seven-league boots only take those prodigious\nsteps when you say you _want_ to go a long distance.  Otherwise they\nwould be very inconvenient--when you only want to cross the room, for\nexample.  Perhaps this has not been explained to you by your governess?\n\nWell, the prince walked into \"The Bear,\" and it seemed odd to him that\nnobody took any notice of him.  And yet his face was as well known as\nthat of any man in Pantouflia, for everybody had seen it, at least in\npictures.  He was so puzzled by not being attended to as usual, that _he\nquite forgot to take off his cap_.  He sat down at the table, however,\nand shouted \"_Kellner_!\" at which all the waiters jumped, and looked\nround in every direction, but nobody came to him.  At first he thought\nthey were too busy, but presently another explanation occurred to him.\n\n{The waiters: p38.jpg}\n\n\"The king,\" he said to himself, \"has threatened to execute anybody who\nspeaks to me, or helps me in any way.  Well, I don't mean to starve in\nthe midst of plenty, anyhow; here goes!\"\n\nThe prince rose, and went to the table in the midst of the room, where a\nhuge roast turkey had just been placed.  He helped himself to half the\nbreast, some sausages, chestnut stuffing, bread sauce, potatoes, and a\nbottle of red wine--Burgundy.  He then went back to a table in a corner,\nwhere he dined very well, nobody taking any notice of him.  When he had\nfinished, he sat watching the other people dining, and smoking his\ncigarette.  As he was sitting thus, a very tall man, an officer in the\nuniform of the Guards, came in, and, walking straight to the prince's\ntable, said: \"Kellner, clean this table, and bring in the bill of fare.\"\n\nWith these words, the officer sat down suddenly in the prince's lap, as\nif he did not see him at all.  He was a heavy man, and the prince,\nenraged at the insult, pushed him away and jumped to his feet.  As he did\nso, _his cap dropped off_.  The officer fell on his knees at once,\ncrying:\n\n\"Pardon, my prince, pardon!  I never saw you!\"\n\nThis was more than the prince could be expected to believe.\n\n\"Nonsense!  Count Frederick von Matterhorn,\" he said; \"you must be\nintoxicated.  Sir! you have insulted your prince and your superior\nofficer.  Consider yourself under arrest!  You shall be sent to a prison\nto-morrow.\"\n\nOn this, the poor officer appealed piteously to everybody in the tavern.\nThey all declared that they had not seen the prince, nor even had an idea\nthat he was doing them the honour of being in the neighbourhood of their\ntown.\n\nMore and more offended, and convinced that there was a conspiracy to\nannoy and insult him, the prince shouted for the landlord, called for his\nbill, threw down his three pieces of gold without asking for change, and\nwent into the street.\n\n\"It is a disgraceful conspiracy,\" he said.  \"The king shall answer for\nthis!  I shall write to the newspapers at once!\"\n\nHe was not put in a better temper by the way in which people hustled him\nin the street.  They ran against him exactly as if they did not see him,\nand then staggered back in the greatest surprise, looking in every\ndirection for the person they had jostled.  In one of these encounters,\nthe prince pushed so hard against a poor old beggar woman that she fell\ndown.  As he was usually most kind and polite, he pulled off his cap to\nbeg her pardon, when, behold, the beggar woman gave one dreadful scream,\nand fainted!  A crowd was collecting, and the prince, forgetting that he\nhad thrown down all his money in the tavern, pulled out his purse.  Then\nhe remembered what he had done, and expected to find it empty; but, lo,\nthere were three pieces of gold in it!  Overcome with surprise, he thrust\nthe money into the woman's hand, and put on his cap again.  In a moment\nthe crowd, which had been staring at him, rushed away in every direction,\nwith cries of terror, declaring that there was a magician in the town,\nand a fellow who could appear and disappear at pleasure!\n\n{The crowd running: p42.jpg}\n\nBy this time, you or I, or anyone who was not so extremely clever as\nPrince Prigio, would have understood what was the matter.  He had put on,\nwithout knowing it, not only the seven-league boots, but the cap of\ndarkness, and had taken Fortunatus's purse, which could never be empty,\nhowever often you took all the money out.  All those and many other\ndelightful wares the fairies had given him at his christening, and the\nprince had found them in the dark garret.  But the prince was so\nextremely wise, and learned, and scientific, that he did not believe in\nfairies, nor in fairy gifts.\n\n\"It is indigestion,\" he said to himself: \"those sausages were not of the\nbest; and that Burgundy was extremely strong.  Things are not as they\nappear.\"\n\nHere, as he was arguing with himself, he was nearly run over by a\nsplendid carriage and six, the driver of which never took the slightest\nnotice of him.  Annoyed at this, the prince leaped up behind, threw down\nthe two footmen, who made no resistance, and so was carried to the door\nof a magnificent palace.  He was determined to challenge the gentleman\nwho was in the carriage; but, noticing that he had a very beautiful young\nlady with him, whom he had never seen before, he followed them into the\nhouse, not wishing to alarm the girl, and meaning to speak to the\ngentleman when he found him alone.\n\nA great ball was going on; but, as usual, nobody took any notice of the\nprince.  He walked among the guests, being careful not to jostle them,\nand listening to their conversation.\n\nIt was all about himself!  Everyone had heard of his disgrace, and almost\neveryone cried \"Serve him right!\"  They said that the airs he gave\nhimself were quite unendurable--that nothing was more rude than to be\nalways in the right--that cleverness might be carried far too far--that\nit was better even to be born stupid (\"Like the rest of you,\" thought the\nprince); and, in fact, nobody had a good word for him.\n\nYes, one had!  It was the pretty lady of the carriage.  I never could\ntell you how pretty she was.  She was tall, with cheeks like white roses\nblushing: she had dark hair, and very large dark-grey eyes, and her face\nwas the kindest in the world!  The prince first thought how nice and good\nshe looked, even before he thought how pretty she looked.  _She_ stood up\nfor Prince Prigio when her partner would speak ill of him.  She had never\nseen the prince, for she was but newly come to Pantouflia; but she\ndeclared that it was his _misfortune_, not his fault, to be so clever.\n\"And, then, think how hard they made him work at school!  Besides,\" said\nthis kind young lady, \"I hear he is extremely handsome, and very brave;\nand he has a good heart, for he was kind, I have heard, to a poor boy,\nand did all his examination papers for him, so that the boy passed first\nin _everything_.  And now he is Minister for Education, though he can't\ndo a line of Greek prose!\"\n\nThe prince blushed at this, for he knew his conduct had not been\nhonourable.  But he at once fell over head and ears in love with the\nyoung lady, a thing he had never done in his life before, because--he\nsaid--\"women were so stupid!\"  You see he was so clever!\n\nNow, at this very moment--when the prince, all of a sudden, was as deep\nin love as if he had been the stupidest officer in the room--an\nextraordinary thing happened!  Something seemed to give a whirr! in his\nbrain, and in one instant _he knew all about it_!  He believed in fairies\nand fairy gifts, and understood that his cap was the cap of darkness, and\nhis shoes the seven-league boots, and his purse the purse of Fortunatus!\nHe had read about those things in historical books: but now he believed\nin them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n\n_The Prince Falls in Love_.\n\nHe understood all this, and burst out laughing, which nearly frightened\nan old lady near him out of her wits.  Ah! how he wished he was only in\nevening dress, that he might dance with the charming young lady.  But\nthere he was, dressed just as if he were going out to hunt, if anyone\ncould have seen him.  So, even if he took off his cap of darkness, and\nbecame visible, he was no figure for a ball.  Once he would not have\ncared, but now he cared very much indeed.\n\nBut the prince was not clever for nothing.  He thought for a moment, then\nwent out of the room, and, in three steps of the seven-league boots, was\nat his empty, dark, cold palace again.  He struck a light with a flint\nand steel, lit a torch, and ran upstairs to the garret.  The flaring\nlight of the torch fell on the pile of \"rubbish,\" as the queen would have\ncalled it, which he turned over with eager hands.  Was there--yes, there\n_was_ another cap!  There it lay, a handsome green one with a red\nfeather.  The prince pulled off the cap of darkness, put on the other,\nand said:\n\n\"_I wish I were dressed in my best suit of white and gold_, _with the\nroyal Pantouflia diamonds_!\"\n\nIn one moment there he was in white and gold, the greatest and most\nmagnificent dandy in the whole world, and the handsomest man!\n\n\"How about my boots, I wonder,\" said the prince; for his seven-league\nboots were stout riding-boots, not good to dance in, whereas _now_ he was\nin elegant shoes of silk and gold.\n\nHe threw down the wishing cap, put on the other--the cap of darkness--and\nmade three strides in the direction of Gluckstein.  But he was only three\nsteps nearer it than he had been, and the seven-league boots were\nstanding beside him on the floor!\n\n\"No,\" said the prince; \"no man can be in two different pairs of boots at\none and the same time!  That's mathematics!\"\n\nHe then hunted about in the lumber-room again till he found a small,\nshabby, old Persian carpet, the size of a hearthrug.  He went to his own\nroom, took a portmanteau in his hand, sat down on the carpet, and said:\n\n\"I wish I were in Gluckstein.\"\n\nIn a moment there he found himself; for this was that famous carpet which\nPrince Hussein bought long ago, in the market at Bisnagar, and which the\nfairies had brought, with the other presents, to the christening of\nPrince Prigio.\n\n{The Prince on the carpet: p52.jpg}\n\nWhen he arrived at the house where the ball was going on, he put the\nmagical carpet in the portmanteau, and left it in the cloak-room,\nreceiving a numbered ticket in exchange.  Then he marched in all his\nglory (and, of course, without the cap of darkness) into the room where\nthey were dancing.  Everybody made place for him, bowing down to the\nground, and the loyal band struck up _The Prince's March_!\n\n   _Heaven bless our Prince Prigio_!\n   _What is there he doesn't know_?\n   _Greek_, _Swiss_, _German_ (_High and Low_),\n   _And the names of the mountains in Mexico_,\n         _Heaven bless the prince_!\n\nHe used to be very fond of this march, and the words--some people even\nsaid he had made them himself.  But now, somehow, he didn't much like it.\nHe went straight to the Duke of Stumpfelbahn, the Hereditary Master of\nthe Ceremonies, and asked to be introduced to the beautiful young lady.\nShe was the daughter of the new English Ambassador, and her name was Lady\nRosalind.  But she nearly fainted when she heard who it was that wished\nto dance with her, for she was not at all particularly clever; and the\nprince had such a bad character for snubbing girls, and asking them\ndifficult questions.  However, it was impossible to refuse, and so she\ndanced with the prince, and he danced very well.  Then they sat out in\nthe conservatory, among the flowers, where nobody came near them; and\nthen they danced again, and then the Prince took her down to supper.  And\nall the time he never once said, \"Have you read _this_?\" or \"Have you\nread _that_?\" or, \"What! you never heard of Alexander the Great?\" or\nJulius Caesar, or Michael Angelo, or whoever it might be--horrid,\ndifficult questions he used to ask.  That was the way he _used_ to go on:\nbut now he only talked to the young lady about _herself_; and she quite\nleft off being shy or frightened, and asked him all about his own\ncountry, and about the Firedrake-shooting, and said how fond she was of\nhunting herself.  And the prince said:\n\n\"Oh, if _you_ wish it, you shall have the horns and tail of a Firedrake\nto hang up in your hall, to-morrow evening!\"\n\nThen she asked if it was not very dangerous work, Firedrake hunting; and\nhe said it was nothing, when you knew the trick of it: and he asked her\nif she would but give him a rose out of her bouquet; and, in short, he\nmade himself so agreeable and _unaffected_, that she thought him very\nnice indeed.\n\nFor, even a clever person can be nice when he likes--above all, when he\nis not thinking about himself.  And now the prince was thinking of\nnothing in the world but the daughter of the English ambassador, and how\nto please her.  He got introduced to her father too, and quite won his\nheart; and, at last, he was invited to dine next day at the Embassy.\n\nIn Pantouflia, it is the custom that a ball must not end while one of the\nroyal family goes on dancing.  _This_ ball lasted till the light came in,\nand the birds were singing out of doors, and all the mothers present were\nsound asleep.  Then nothing would satisfy the prince, but that they all\nshould go home singing through the streets; in fact, there never had been\nso merry a dance in all Pantouflia.  The prince had made a point of\ndancing with almost every girl there: and he had suddenly become the most\nbeloved of the royal family.  But everything must end at last; and the\nprince, putting on the cap of darkness and sitting on the famous carpet,\nflew back to his lonely castle.\n\n{The mothers asleep: p56.jpg}\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n\n_The Prince is Puzzled_.\n\nPrince Prigio did not go to bed.  It was bright daylight, and he had\npromised to bring the horns and tail of a Firedrake as a present to a\npretty lady.  He had said it was easy to do this; but now, as he sat and\nthought over it, he did not feel so victorious.\n\n\"First,\" he said, \"where is the Firedrake?\"  He reflected for a little,\nand then ran upstairs to the garret.\n\n\"It _should_ be here!\" he cried, tossing the fairies' gifts about; \"and,\nby George, here it is!\"\n\nIndeed, he had found the spyglass of carved ivory which Prince Ali, in\nthe _Arabian Nights_, bought in the bazaar in Schiraz.  Now, this glass\nwas made so that, by looking through it, you could see anybody or\nanything you wished, however far away.  Prigio's first idea was to look\nat his lady.  \"But she does not expect to be looked at,\" he thought; \"and\nI _won't_!\"  On the other hand, he determined to look at the Firedrake;\nfor, of course, he had no delicacy about spying on _him_, the brute.\n\nThe prince clapped the glass to his eye, stared out of window, and there,\nsure enough, he saw the Firedrake.  He was floating about in a sea of\nmolten lava, on the top of a volcano.  There he was, swimming and diving\nfor pleasure, tossing up the flaming waves, and blowing fountains of fire\nout of his nostrils, like a whale spouting!\n\nThe prince did not like the looks of him.\n\n{The Prince looking through the telescope: p59.jpg}\n\n\"With all my cap of darkness, and my shoes of swiftness, and my sword of\nsharpness, I never could get near that beast,\" he said; \"and if I _did_\nstalk him, I could not hurt him.  Poor little Alphonso! poor Enrico! what\nplucky fellows they were!  I fancied that there was no such thing as a\nFiredrake: he's not in the Natural History books, and I thought the boys\nwere only making fun, and would be back soon, safe and sound.  How horrid\nbeing too clever makes one!  And now, what _am_ I to do?\"\n\n{The Remora: p60.jpg}\n\nWhat was he to do, indeed?  And what would you have done?  Bring the\nhorns and tail he must, or perish in the adventure.  Otherwise, how could\nhe meet his lady?--why, she would think him a mere braggart!\n\nThe prince sat down, and thought and thought; and the day went on, and it\nwas now high noon.\n\nAt last he jumped up and rushed into the library, a room where nobody\never went except himself and the queen.  There he turned the books upside\ndown, in his haste, till he found an old one, by a French gentleman,\nMonsieur Cyrano de Bergerac.  It was an account of a voyage to the moon,\nin which there is a great deal of information about matters not generally\nknown; for few travellers have been to the moon.  In that book, Prince\nPrigio fancied he would find something he half remembered, and that would\nbe of use to him.  And he _did_!  So you see that cleverness, and minding\nyour book, have some advantages, after all.  For here the prince learned\nthat there is a very rare beast, called a Remora, which is at least as\ncold as the Firedrake is hot!\n\n\"Now,\" thought he, \"_if I can only make these two fight_, why the Remora\nmay kill the Firedrake, or take the heat out of him, at least, so that I\nmay have a chance.\"\n\nThen he seized the ivory glass, clapped it to his eye, and looked for the\nRemora.  Just the tip of his nose, as white as snow and as smooth as ice,\nwas sticking out of a chink in a frozen mountain, not far from the\nburning mountain of the Firedrake.\n\n\"Hooray!\" said the prince softly to himself; and he jumped like mad into\nthe winged shoes of swiftness, stuck on the cap of darkness, girdled\nhimself with the sword of sharpness, and put a good slice of bread, with\nsome cold tongue, in a wallet, which he slung on his back.  Never you\nfight, if you can help it, except with plenty of food to keep you going\nand in good heart.  Then off he flew, and soon he reached the volcano of\nthe Firedrake.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n\n{Chapter heading picture: p64.jpg}\n\n_The Prince and the Firedrake_.\n\nIt was dreadfully hot, even high up in the air, where the prince hung\ninvisible.  Great burning stones were tossed up by the volcano, and\nnearly hit him several times.  Moreover, the steam and smoke, and the\nflames which the Firedrake spouted like foam from his nostrils, would\nhave daunted even the bravest man.  The sides of the hill, too, were\ncovered with the blackened ashes of his victims, whom he had roasted when\nthey came out to kill him.  The garden-engine of poor little Alphonso was\nlying in the valley, all broken and useless.  But the Firedrake, as happy\nas a wild duck on a lonely loch, was rolling and diving in the liquid\nflame, all red-hot and full of frolic.\n\n\"Hi!\" shouted the prince.\n\nThe Firedrake rose to the surface, his horns as red as a red crescent-\nmoon, only bigger, and lashing the fire with his hoofs and his blazing\ntail.\n\n\"Who's there?\" he said in a hoarse, angry voice.  \"Just let me get at\nyou!\"\n\n\"It's me,\" answered the prince.  It was the first time he had forgotten\nhis grammar, but he was terribly excited.\n\n\"What do you want?\" grunted the beast.  \"I wish I could see you\"; and,\nhorrible to relate, he rose on a pair of wide, flaming wings, and came\nright at the prince, guided by the sound of his voice.\n\nNow, the prince had never heard that Firedrakes could fly; indeed, he had\nnever believed in them at all, till the night before.  For a moment he\nwas numb with terror; then he flew down like a stone to the very bottom\nof the hill, and shouted:\n\n\"Hi!\"\n\n\"Well,\" grunted the Firedrake, \"what's the matter?  Why can't you give a\ncivil answer to a civil question?\"\n\n\"Will you go back to your hole and swear, on your honour as a Firedrake,\nto listen quietly?\"\n\n\"On my sacred word of honour,\" said the beast, casually scorching an\neagle that flew by into ashes.  The cinders fell, jingling and crackling,\nround the prince in a little shower.\n\nThen the Firedrake dived back, with an awful splash of flame, and the\nmountain roared round him.\n\nThe prince now flew high above him, and cried:\n\n\"A message from the Remora.  He says you are afraid to fight him.\"\n\n\"Don't know him,\" grunted the Firedrake.\n\n\"He sends you his glove,\" said Prince Prigio, \"as a challenge to mortal\ncombat, till death do you part.\"\n\nThen he dropped his own glove into the fiery lake.\n\n\"Does he?\" yelled the Firedrake.  \"Just let me get at him!\" and he\nscrambled out, all red-hot as he was.\n\n\"I'll go and tell him you're coming,\" said the prince; and with two\nstrides he was over the frozen mountain of the Remora.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n\n_The Prince and the Remora_.\n\nIf he had been too warm before, the prince was too cold now.  The hill of\nthe Remora was one solid mass of frozen steel, and the cold rushed out of\nit like the breath of some icy beast, which indeed it _was_.  All around\nwere things like marble statues of men in armour: they were the dead\nbodies of the knights, horses and all, who had gone out of old to fight\nthe Remora, and who had been frosted up by him.  The prince felt his\nblood stand still, and he grew faint; but he took heart, for there was no\ntime to waste.  Yet he could nowhere see the Remora.\n\n\"Hi!\" shouted the prince.\n\nThen, from a narrow chink at the bottom of the smooth, black hill,--a\nchink no deeper than that under a door, but a mile wide,--stole out a\nhideous head!\n\nIt was as flat as the head of a skate-fish, it was deathly pale, and two\nchill-blue eyes, dead-coloured like stones, looked out of it.\n\nThen there came a whisper, like the breath of the bitter east wind on a\nwinter day:\n\n\"Where are you, and how can I come to you?\"\n\n\"Here I am!\" said the prince from the top of the hill.\n\nThen the flat, white head set itself against the edge of the chink from\nwhich it had peeped, and slowly, like the movement of a sheet of ice, it\nslipped upwards and curled upwards, and up, and up!  There seemed no end\nto it at all; and it moved horribly, without feet, holding on by its own\nfrost to the slippery side of the frozen hill.  Now all the lower part of\nthe black hill was covered with the horrid white thing coiled about it in\nsmooth, flat, shiny coils; and still the head was higher than the rest;\nand still the icy cold came nearer and nearer, like Death.\n\nThe prince almost fainted: everything seemed to swim; and in one moment\nmore he would have fallen stiff on the mountain-top, and the white head\nwould have crawled over him, and the cold coils would have slipped over\nhim and turned him to stone.  And still the thing slipped up, from the\nchink under the mountain.\n\nBut the prince made a great effort; he moved, and in two steps he was far\naway, down in the valley where it was not so very cold.\n\n\"Hi!\" he shouted, as soon as his tongue could move within his chattering\nteeth.\n\nThere came a clear, hissing answer, like frozen words dropping round him:\n\n\"Wait till I come down.  What do you want?\"\n\nThen the white folds began to slide, like melting ice, from the black\nhill.\n\nPrince Prigio felt the air getting warmer behind him, and colder in front\nof him.\n\nHe looked round, and there were the trees beginning to blacken in the\nheat, and the grass looking like a sea of fire along the plains; for the\nFiredrake was coming!\n\nThe prince just took time to shout, \"The Firedrake is going to pay you a\nvisit!\" and then he soared to the top of a neighbouring hill, and looked\non at what followed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n\n_The Battle_.\n\nIt was an awul sight to behold!  When the Remora heard the name of the\nFiredrake, his hated enemy, he slipped with wonderful speed from the\ncleft of the mountain into the valley.  On and on and on he poured over\nrock and tree, as if a frozen river could slide downhill; on and on, till\nthere were miles of him stretching along the valley--miles of the smooth-\nribbed, icy creature, crawling and slipping forwards.  The green trees\ndropped their leaves as he advanced; the birds fell down dead from the\nsky, slain by his frosty breath!  But, fast as the Remora stole forward,\nthe Firedrake came quicker yet, flying and clashing his fiery wings.  At\nlast they were within striking distance; and the Firedrake, stooping from\nthe air, dashed with his burning horns and flaming feet slap into the\nbody of the Remora.\n\nThen there rose a steam so dreadful, such a white yet fiery vapour of\nheat, that no one who had not the prince's magic glass could have seen\nwhat happened.  With horrible grunts and roars the Firedrake tried to\nburn his way right through the flat body of the Remora, and to chase him\nto his cleft in the rock.  But the Remora, hissing terribly, and visibly\nmelting away in places, yet held his ground; and the prince could see his\ncold white folds climbing slowly up the hoofs of the Firedrake--up and\nup, till they reached his knees, and the great burning beast roared like\na hundred bulls with the pain.  Then up the Firedrake leaped, and\nhovering on his fiery wings, he lighted in the midst of the Remora's\nback, and dashed into it with his horns.  But the flat, cruel head\nwrithed backwards, and, slowly bending over on itself, the wounded Remora\nslid greedily to fasten again on the limbs of the Firedrake.\n\nMeanwhile, the prince, safe on his hill, was lunching on the loaf and the\ncold tongue he had brought with him.\n\n\"Go it, Remora!  Go it, Firedrake! you're gaining.  Give it him, Remora!\"\nhe shouted in the wildest excitement.\n\nNobody had ever seen such a battle; he had it all to himself, and he\nnever enjoyed anything more.  He hated the Remora so much, that he almost\nwished the Firedrake could beat it; for the Firedrake was the more\nnatural beast of the pair.  Still, he was alarmed when he saw that the\nvast flat body of the Remora was now slowly coiling backwards, backwards,\ninto the cleft below the hill; while a thick wet mist showed how cruelly\nit had suffered.  But the Firedrake, too, was in an unhappy way; for his\nlegs were now cold and black, his horns were black also, though his body,\nespecially near the heart, glowed still like red-hot iron.\n\n\"Go it, Remora!\" cried the prince: \"his legs are giving way; he's groggy\non his pins!  One more effort, and he won't be able to move!\"\n\nEncouraged by this advice, the white, slippery Remora streamed out of his\ncavern again, more and more of him uncoiling, as if the mountain were\nquite full of him.  He had lost strength, no doubt: for the steam and\nmist went up from him in clouds, and the hissing of his angry voice grew\nfainter; but so did the roars of the Firedrake.  Presently they sounded\nmore like groans; and at last the Remora slipped up his legs above the\nknees, and fastened on his very heart of fire.  Then the Firedrake stood\ngroaning like a black bull, knee-deep in snow; and still the Remora\nclimbed and climbed.\n\n\"Go it now, Firedrake!\" shouted the prince; for he knew that if the\nRemora won, it would be too cold for him to draw near the place, and cut\noff the Firedrake's head and tail.\n\n\"Go it, Drake! he's slackening!\" cried the prince again; and the brave\nFiredrake made one last furious effort, and rising on his wings, dropped\njust on the spine of his enemy.\n\nThe wounded Remora curled back his head again on himself, and again\ncrawled, steaming terribly, towards his enemy.  But the struggle was too\nmuch for the gallant Remora.  The flat, cruel head moved slower; the\nsteam from his thousand wounds grew fiercer; and he gently breathed his\nlast just as the Firedrake, too, fell over and lay exhausted.  With one\nfinal roar, like the breath of a thousand furnaces, the Firedrake\nexpired.\n\nThe prince, watching from the hill-top, could scarcely believe that these\ntwo _awful scourges of Nature_, which had so long devastated his country,\nwere actually dead.  But when he had looked on for half-an-hour, and only\na river ran where the Remora had been, while the body of the Firedrake\nlay stark and cold, he hurried to the spot.\n\nDrawing the sword of sharpness, he hacked off, at two blows, the iron\nhead and the tail of the Firedrake.  They were a weary weight to carry;\nbut in a few strides of the shoes of swiftness he was at his castle,\nwhere he threw down his burden, and nearly fainted with excitement and\nfatigue.\n\n{The Prince in front of the Firedrake: p78.jpg}\n\nBut the castle clock struck half-past seven; dinner was at eight, and the\npoor prince crawled on hands and knees to the garret.  Here he put on the\nwishing-cap; wished for a pint of champagne, a hot bath, and his best\nblack velvet and diamond suit.  In a moment these were provided; he\nbathed, dressed, drank a glass of wine, packed up the head and tail of\nthe Firedrake, sat down on the flying carpet, and knocked at the door of\nthe English ambassador as the clocks were striking eight in Gluckstein.\n\n_Punctuality is the politeness of princes_! and a prince _is_ polite,\nwhen he is in love!\n\nThe prince was received at the door by a stout porter and led into the\nhall, where _several_ butlers met him, and he laid the mortal remains of\nthe Firedrake under the cover of the flying carpet.\n\nThen he was led upstairs; and he made his bow to the pretty lady, who, of\ncourse, made him a magnificent courtesy.  She seemed prettier and kinder\nthan ever.  The prince was so happy, that he never noticed how something\nwent wrong about the dinner.  The ambassador looked about, and seemed to\nmiss someone, and spoke in a low voice to one of the servants, who\nanswered also in a low voice, and what he said seemed to displease the\nambassador.  But the prince was so busy in talking to his lady, and in\neating his dinner too, that he never observed anything unusual.  He had\n_never_ been at such a pleasant dinner!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\n\n_A Terrible Misfortune_.\n\nWhen the ladies left, and the prince and the other gentlemen were alone,\nthe ambassador appeared more gloomy than ever.  At last he took the\nprince into a corner, on pretence of showing him a rare statue.\n\n\"Does your royal highness not know,\" he asked, \"that you are in\nconsiderable danger?\"\n\n\"Still?\" said the prince, thinking of the Firedrake.\n\nThe ambassador did not know what he meant, for _he_ had never heard of\nthe fight, but he answered gravely:\n\n\"Never more than now.\"\n\nThen he showed the prince two proclamations, which had been posted all\nabout the town.\n\n{The ambassador showing the Prince the proclamation: p82.jpg}\n\nHere is the first:\n\n   TO ALL LOYAL SUBJECTS.\n\n   _Whereas_,\n\n   Our eldest son, Prince Prigio, hath of late been guilty of several\n   high crimes and misdemeanours.\n\n   First: By abandoning the post of danger against the Firedrake, whereby\n   our beloved sons, Prince Alphonso and Prince Enrico, have perished,\n   and been overdone by that monster.\n\n   Secondly: By attending an unseemly revel in the town of Gluckstein,\n   where he brawled in the streets.\n\n   Thirdly: By trying to seduce away the hearts of our loyal subjects in\n   that city, and to blow up a party against our crown and our peace.\n\n   _This is to give warning_,\n\n   That whoever consorts with, comforts, aids, or abets the said Prince\n   Prigio, is thereby a partner in his treason; and\n\n   That a reward of FIVE THOUSAND PURSES will be given to whomsoever\n   brings the said prince, alive, to our Castle of Falkenstein.\n\nGROGNIO R.\n\nAnd here is the second proclamation:\n\n   REWARD.\n   THE FIREDRAKE.\n\n   _Whereas_,\n\n   Our dominions have lately been devastated by a Firedrake (the\n   _Salamander Furiosus_ of Buffon);\n\n   _This is to advise all_,\n\n   That whosoever brings the horns and tail of the said Firedrake to our\n   Castle of Falkenstein, shall receive FIVE THOUSAND PURSES, the\n   position of Crown Prince, with the usual perquisites, and the hand of\n   the king's niece, the Lady Molinda.\n\n   GROGNIO R.\n\n\"H'm,\" said the prince; \"I did not think his majesty wrote so well;\" and\nhe would have _liked_ to say, \"Don't you think we might join the ladies.\"\n\n\"But, sir,\" said the ambassador, \"the streets are lined with soldiers;\nand I know not how you have escaped them.  _Here_, under my roof, you are\nsafe for the moment; but a prolonged stay--excuse my inhospitality--could\nnot but strain the harmonious relations which prevail between the\nGovernment of Pantouflia and that which I have the honour to represent.\"\n\n\"We don't want to fight; and no more, I think, do you,\" said the prince,\nsmiling.\n\n\"Then how does your royal highness mean to treat the proclamations?\"\n\n\"Why, by winning these ten thousand purses.  I can tell you 1,000,000\npounds is worth having,\" said the prince.  \"I'll deliver up the said\nprince, alive, at Falkenstein this very night; also the horns and tail of\nthe said Firedrake.  But I don't want to marry my Cousin Molly.\"\n\n\"May I remind your royal highness that Falkenstein is three hundred miles\naway?  Moreover, my head butler, Benson, disappeared from the house\nbefore dinner, and I fear he went to warn Captain Kopzoffski that you are\n_here_!\"\n\n\"That is nothing,\" said the prince; \"but, my dear Lord Kelso, may I not\nhave the pleasure of presenting Lady Rosalind with a little gift, a\nPhilippine which I lost to her last night, merely the head and tail of a\nFiredrake which I stalked this morning?\"\n\nThe ambassador was so astonished that he ran straight upstairs,\nforgetting his manners, and crying:\n\n\"Linda!  Linda! come down at once; here's a surprise for you!\"\n\nLady Rosalind came sweeping down, with a smile on her kind face.  _She_\nguessed what it was, though the prince had said nothing about it at\ndinner.\n\n\"Lead the way, your royal highness!\" cried the ambassador; and the\nprince, offering Lady Rosalind his arm, went out into the hall, where he\nsaw neither his carpet nor the horns and tail of the Firedrake!\n\nHe turned quite pale, and said:\n\n\"Will you kindly ask the servants where the little Persian prayer-rug and\nthe parcel which I brought with me have been placed?\"\n\nLord Kelso rang the bell, and in came all the servants, with William, the\nunder-butler, at their head.\n\n\"William,\" said his lordship, \"where have you put his royal highness's\nparcel and his carpet?\"\n\n\"Please, your lordship,\" said William, \"we think Benson have took them\naway with him.\"\n\n\"And where is Benson?\"\n\n\"We don't know, your lordship.  We think he have been come for!\"\n\n\"Come for--by whom?\"\n\nWilliam stammered, and seemed at a loss for a reply.\n\n\"Quick! answer! what do you know about it?\"\n\nWilliam said at last, rather as if he were making a speech.\n\n\"Your royaliness, and my lords and ladies, it was like this.  His\nroyaliness comed in with a rug over his arm, and summat under it.  And he\nlays it down on that there seat, and Thomas shows him into the droring-\nroom.  Then Benson says: 'Dinner'll be ready in five minutes; how tired I\ndo feel!'  Then he takes the libbuty of sitting hisself down on his\nroyaliness's rug, and he says, asking your pardon, 'I've had about enough\nof service here.  I'm about tired, and I thinks of bettering myself.  I\nwish I was at the king's court, and butler.'  But before the words was\nout of his mouth, off he flies like a shot through the open door, and his\nroyaliness's parcel with him.  I run to the door, and there he was,\nflying right hover the town, in a northerly direction.  And that's all I\nknow; for I would not tell a lie, not if it was never so.  And me, and\nThomas--as didn't see it,--and cook, we thinks as how Benson was come\nfor.  And cook says as she don't wonder at it, neither; for a\ngrumblinger, more ill-conditioneder--\"\n\n{The Butler on the carpet: p89.jpg}\n\n\"Thank you, William,\" said Lord Kelso; \"that will do; you can go, for the\npresent.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\n\n_Surprises_.\n\nThe prince said nothing, the ambassador said nothing, Lady Rosalind said\nnever a word till they were in the drawing-room.  It was a lovely warm\nevening, and the French windows were wide open on the balcony, which\nlooked over the town and away north to the hills.  Below them flowed the\nclear, green water of the Gluckthal.  And still nobody said a word.\n\nAt last the prince spoke:\n\n\"This is a very strange story, Lord Kelso!\"\n\n\"Very, sir!\" said the ambassador.\n\n\"But true,\" added the prince; \"at least, there is no reason in the nature\nof things why it shouldn't be true.\"\n\n\"I can hardly believe, sir, that the conduct of Benson, whom I always\nfound a most respectable man, deserved--\"\n\n\"That he should be 'come for,'\" said the prince.  \"Oh, no; it was a mere\naccident, and might have happened to any of us who chanced to sit down on\nmy carpet.\"\n\nAnd then the prince told them, shortly, all about it: how the carpet was\none of a number of fairy properties, which had been given him at his\nchristening; and how so long a time had gone by before he discovered\nthem; and how, probably, the carpet had carried the butler where he had\nsaid he wanted to go, namely--to the king's Court at Falkenstein.\n\n\"It would not matter so much,\" added the prince, \"only I had relied on\nmaking my peace with his majesty, my father, by aid of those horns and\nthat tail.  He was set on getting them; and if the Lady Rosalind had not\nexpressed a wish for them, they would to-day have been in his\npossession.\"\n\n\"Oh, sir, you honour us too highly,\" murmured Lady Rosalind; and the\nprince blushed and said:\n\n\"Not at all!  Impossible!\"\n\nThen, of course, the ambassador became quite certain that his daughter\nwas admired by the crown prince, who was on bad terms with the king of\nthe country; and a more uncomfortable position for an ambassador--however,\nthey are used to them.\n\n\"What on earth am I to do with the young man?\" he thought.  \"He can't\nstay here for ever; and without his carpet he can't get away, for the\nsoldiers have orders to seize him as soon as he appears in the street.\nAnd in the meantime Benson will be pretending that _he_ killed the\nFiredrake--for he must have got to Falkenstein by now,--and they will be\nfor marrying him to the king's niece, and making my butler crown prince\nto the kingdom of Pantouflia!  It is dreadful!\"\n\nNow all this time the prince was on the balcony, telling Lady Rosalind\nall about how he got the Firedrake done for, in the most modest way; for,\nas he said: \"_I_ didn't kill him: and it is really the Remora, poor\nfellow, who should marry Molly; but he's dead.\"\n\nAt this very moment there was a _whizz_ in the air: something shot past\nthem, and, through the open window, the king, the queen, Benson, and the\nmortal remains of the Firedrake were shot into the ambassador's drawing-\nroom!\n\n{The King and Queen on the carpet: p95.jpg}\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\n\n_The King Explains_.\n\nThe first who recovered his voice and presence of mind was Benson.\n\n\"Did your lordship ring for coffee?\" he asked, quietly; and when he was\ntold \"Yes,\" he bowed and withdrew, with majestic composure.\n\nWhen he had gone, the prince threw himself at the king's feet, crying:\n\n\"Pardon, pardon, my liege!\"\n\n\"Don't speak to me, sir!\" answered the king, very angrily; and the poor\nprince threw himself at the feet of the queen.\n\nBut she took no notice of him whatever, no more than if he had been a\nfairy; and the prince heard her murmur, as she pinched her royal arms:\n\n\"I shall waken presently; this is nothing out of the way for a dream.  Dr.\nRumpfino ascribes it to imperfect nutrition.\"\n\nAll this time, the Lady Rosalind, as pale as a marble statue, was leaning\nagainst the side of the open window.  The prince thought he could do\nnothing wiser than go and comfort her, so he induced her to sit down on a\nchair in the balcony,--for he felt that he was not wanted in the drawing-\nroom;--and soon they were talking happily about the stars, which had\nbegun to appear in the summer night.\n\nMeanwhile, the ambassador had induced the king to take a seat; but there\nwas no use in talking to the queen.\n\n\"It would be a miracle,\" she said to herself, \"and miracles do not\nhappen; therefore this has not happened.  Presently, I shall wake up in\nmy own bed at Falkenstein.\"\n\nNow, Benson, William, and Thomas brought in the coffee, but the queen\ntook no notice.  When they went away, the rest of the company slipped off\nquietly, and the king was left alone with the ambassador; for the queen\ncould hardly be said to count.\n\n{The King and Queen: p99.jpg}\n\n\"You want to know all about it, I suppose?\" said his majesty, in a sulky\nvoice.  \"Well, you have a right to it, and I shall tell you.  We were\njust sitting down to dinner at Falkenstein, rather late,--hours get later\nevery year, I think--when I heard a row in the premises, and the captain\nof the guard, Colonel McDougal, came and told us that a man had arrived\nwith the horns and tail of the Firedrake, and was claiming the reward.\nHer majesty and I rose and went into the outer court, where we found,\nsitting on that carpet with a glass of beer in his hand, a respectable-\nlooking upper servant, whom I recognised as your butler.  He informed us\nthat he had just killed the beast, and showed us the horns and tail, sure\nenough; there they are!  The tail is like the iron handle of a pump, but\nthe horns are genuine.  A pair were thrown up by a volcano, in my great-\ngrandfather's time, Giglio I. {100}  Excellent coffee this, of yours!\"\n\nThe ambassador bowed.\n\n\"Well, we asked him _where_ he killed the Firedrake, and he said in a\ngarden near Gluckstein.  Then he began to speak about the reward, and the\n'perkisits,' as he called them, which it seems he had read about in my\nproclamation.  Rather a neat thing; drew it up myself,\" added his\nmajesty.\n\n\"Very much to the point,\" said the ambassador, wondering what the king\nwas coming to.\n\n\"Glad you like it,\" said the king, much pleased.  \"Well, where was I?  Oh,\nyes; your man said he had killed the creature in a garden, quite near\nGluckstein.  I didn't much like the whole affair: he is an alien, you\nsee; and then there was my niece, Molinda--poor girl, _she_ was certain\nto give trouble.  Her heart is buried, if I may say so, with poor\nAlphonso.  But the queen is a very remarkable woman--very remarkable--\"\n\n\"Very!\" said the Ambassador, with perfect truth.\n\n\"'Caitiff!' she cries to your butler;\" his majesty went on, \"'perjured\nknave, thou liest in thy throat!  Gluckstein is a hundred leagues from\nhere, and how sayest thou that thou slewest the monster, and camest\nhither in a few hours' space?'  This had not occurred to me,--I am a\nplain king, but I at once saw the force of her majesty's argument.  'Yes,'\nsaid I; 'how did you manage it?'  But he--your man, I mean--was not a bit\nput out.  'Why, your majesty,' says he, 'I just sat down on that there\nbit of carpet, wished I was here, and here _I ham_.  And I'd be glad,\nhaving had the trouble,--and my time not being my own,--to see the colour\nof them perkisits, according to the proclamation.'  On this her majesty\ngrew more indignant, if possible.  'Nonsense!' she cried; 'a story out of\nthe _Arabian Nights_ is not suited for a modern public, and fails to win\naesthetic credence.'  These were her very words.\"\n\n\"Her majesty's expressions are ever choice and appropriate,\" said the\nAmbassador.\n\n\"'Sit down there, on the carpet, knave,' she went on; 'ourself and\nconsort'--meaning _me_--'will take our places by thy side, and _I_ shall\nwish us in Gluckstein, at thy master's!  When the experiment has failed,\nthy head shall from thy shoulders be shorn!'  So your man merely said,\n'Very well, mum,--your majesty, I mean,' and sat down.  The queen took\nher place at the edge of the carpet; I sat between her and the butler,\nand she said, 'I wish we were in Gluckstein!'  Then we rose, flew through\nthe air at an astonishing pace, and here we are!  So I suppose the rest\nof the butler's tale is true, which I regret; but a king's word is\nsacred, and he shall take the place of that sneak, Prigio.  But as we\nleft home before dinner, and as _yours_ is over, may I request your\nlordship to believe that I should be delighted to take something cold?\"\n\nThe ambassador at once ordered a sumptuous collation, to which the king\ndid full justice; and his majesty was shown to the royal chamber, as he\ncomplained of fatigue.  The queen accompanied him, remarking that she was\nsound asleep, but would waken presently.  Neither of them said\n\"Good-night\" to the prince.  Indeed, they did not see him again, for he\nwas on the balcony with Lady Rosalind.  They found a great deal to say to\neach other, and at last the prince asked her to be his wife; and she said\nthat if the king and her father gave their permission--why, then she\nwould!  After this she went to bed; and the prince, who had not slept at\nall the night before, felt very sleepy also.  But he knew that first he\nhad something that must be done.  So he went into the drawing-room, took\nhis carpet, and wished to be--now, where do you suppose?  Beside the dead\nbody of the Firedrake!  There he was in a moment; and dreadful the body\nlooked, lying stark and cold in the white moonshine.  Then the prince cut\noff its four hoofs, put them in his wallet, and with these he flew back\nin a second, and met the ambassador just as he came from ushering the\nking to bed.  Then the prince was shown his own room, where he locked up\nthe hoofs, the carpet, the cap of darkness, and his other things in an\niron box; and so he went to bed and dreamed of his Lady Rosalind.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\n\n_The King's Cheque_.\n\nWhen they all wakened next morning, their first ideas were confused.  It\nis often confusing to waken in a strange bed, much more so when you have\nflown through the air, like the king, the queen, and Benson the butler.\nFor her part, the queen was the most perplexed of all; for she did\nundeniably wake, and yet she was not at home, where she had expected to\nbe.  However, she was a determined woman, and stood to it that nothing\nunusual was occurring.  The butler made up his mind to claim the crown\nprinceship and the hand of the Lady Molinda; because, as he justly\nremarked to William, here was such a chance to better himself as might\nnot soon come in his way again.  As for the king, he was only anxious to\nget back to Falkenstein, and have the whole business settled in a\nconstitutional manner.  The ambassador was not sorry to get rid of the\nroyal party; and it was proposed that they should all sit down on the\nflying carpet, and wish themselves at home again.  But the queen would\nnot hear of it: she said it was childish and impossible; so the carriage\nwas got ready for her, and she started without saying a word of good-bye\nto anyone.  The king, Benson, and the prince were not so particular, and\nthey simply flew back to Falkenstein in the usual way, arriving there at\n11.35--a week before her majesty.\n\nThe king at once held a Court; the horns and tail of the monster were\nexhibited amidst general interest, and Benson and the prince were invited\nto state their claims.\n\nBenson's evidence was taken first.  He declined to say exactly where or\nhow he killed the Firedrake.  There might be more of them left, he\nremarked,--young ones, that would take a lot of killing,--and he refused\nto part with his secret.  Only he claimed the reward, which was offered,\nif you remember, _not_ to the man who killed the beast, but to him who\nbrought its horns and tail.  This was allowed by the lawyers present to\nbe very sound law; and Benson was cheered by the courtiers, who decidedly\npreferred him to Prigio, and who, besides, thought he was going to be\ncrown prince.  As for Lady Molinda, she was torn by the most painful\nfeelings; for, much as she hated Prigio, she could not bear the idea of\nmarrying Benson.  Yet one or the other choice seemed certain.\n\nUnhappy lady!  Perhaps no girl was ever more strangely beset by\nmisfortune!\n\nPrince Prigio was now called on to speak.  He admitted that the reward\nwas offered for bringing the horns and tail, not for killing the monster.\nBut were the king's _intentions_ to go for nothing?  When a subject only\n_meant_ well, of course he had to suffer; but when a king said one thing,\nwas he not to be supposed to have meant another?  Any fellow with a\nwaggon could _bring_ the horns and tail; the difficult thing was to kill\nthe monster.  If Benson's claim was allowed, the royal prerogative of\nsaying one thing and meaning something else was in danger.\n\nOn hearing this argument, the king so far forgot himself as to cry,\n\"Bravo, well said!\" and to clap his hands, whereon all the courtiers\nshouted and threw up their hats.\n\nThe prince then said that whoever had killed the monster could, of\ncourse, tell where to find him, and could bring his hoofs.  He was ready\nto do this himself.  Was Mr. Benson equally ready?  On this being\ninterpreted to him--for he did not speak Pantouflian--Benson grew pale\nwith horror, but fell back on the proclamation.  He had brought the horns\nand tail, and so he must have the perquisites, and the Lady Molinda!\n\nThe king's mind was so much confused by this time, that he determined to\nleave it to the Lady Molinda herself.\n\n\"Which of them will you have, my dear?\" he asked, in a kind voice.\n\nBut poor Molinda merely cried.  Then his majesty was almost _driven_ to\nsay that he would give the reward to whoever produced the hoofs by that\nday week.  But no sooner had he said this than the prince brought them\nout of his wallet, and displayed them in open Court.  This ended the\ncase; and Benson, after being entertained with sherry and sandwiches in\nthe steward's room, was sent back to his master.  And I regret to say\nthat his temper was not at all improved by his failure to better himself.\nOn the contrary, he was unusually cross and disagreeable for several\ndays; but we must, perhaps, make some allowance for his disappointment.\n\nBut if Benson was irritated, and suffered from the remarks of his fellow-\nservants, I do not think we can envy Prince Prigio.  Here he was,\nrestored to his position indeed, but by no means to _the royal favour_.\nFor the king disliked him as much as ever, and was as angry as ever about\nthe deaths of Enrico and Alphonso.  Nay, he was even _more_ angry; and,\nperhaps, not without reason.  He called up Prigio before the whole Court,\nand thereon the courtiers cheered like anything, but the king cried:\n\n\"Silence!  McDougal, drag the first man that shouts to the serpent-house\nin the zoological gardens, and lock him up with the rattlesnakes!\"\n\nAfter that the courtiers were very quiet.\n\n\"Prince,\" said the king, as Prigio bowed before the throne, \"you are\nrestored to your position, because I cannot break my promise.  But your\nbase and malevolent nature is even more conspicuously manifest in your\nselfish success than in your previous dastardly contempt of duty.  Why,\nconfound you!\" cried the king, dropping the high style in which he had\nbeen speaking, and becoming the _father_, not the _monarch_,--\"why, if\nyou _could_ kill the Firedrake, did you let your poor little brothers go\nand be b--b--b--broiled?  Eh! what do you say, you sneak?  'You didn't\nbelieve there _were_ any Firedrakes?'  That just comes of your eternal\nconceit and arrogance!  If you were clever enough to kill the\ncreature--and I admit that--you were clever enough to know that what\neverybody said must be true.  'You have not generally found it so?'  Well,\nyou _have_ this time, and let it be a lesson to you; not that there is\nmuch comfort in that, for it is not likely you will ever have such\nanother chance\"--exactly the idea that had occurred to Benson.\n\nHere the king wept, among the tears of the lord chief justice, the poet\nlaureate (who had been awfully frightened when he heard of the\nrattlesnakes), the maids of honour, the chaplain royal, and everyone but\nColonel McDougal, a Scottish soldier of fortune, who maintained a\nmilitary reserve.\n\nWhen his majesty had recovered, he said to Prigio (who had not been\ncrying, he was too much absorbed):\n\n\"A king's word is his bond.  Bring me a pen, somebody, and my\ncheque-book.\"\n\nThe royal cheque-book, bound in red morocco, was brought in by eight\npages, with ink and a pen.  His majesty then filled up and signed the\nfollowing satisfactory document--(Ah! my children, how I wish Mr.\nArrowsmith would do as much for _me_!):\n\n{A cheque for ten thousand purses, payable to Prince Prigio: p114.jpg}\n\n\"There!\" said his majesty, crossing his cheque and throwing sand over it,\nfor blotting-paper had not yet been invented; \"there, take _that_, and be\noff with you!\"\n\nPrince Prigio was respectfully but rapidly obeying his royal command, for\nhe thought he had better cash the royal cheque as soon as possible, when\nhis majesty yelled:\n\n\"Hi! here! come back!  I forgot something; you've got to marry Molinda!\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\n\n_A Melancholy Chapter_.\n\nThe prince had gone some way, when the king called after him.  How he\nwished he had the seven-league boots on, or that he had the cap of\ndarkness in his pocket!  If he had been so lucky, he would now have got\nback to Gluckstein, and crossed the border with Lady Rosalind.  A million\nof money may not seem much, but a pair of young people who really love\neach other could live happily on less than the cheque he had in his\npocket.  However, the king shouted very loud, as he always did when he\nmeant to be obeyed, and the prince sauntered slowly back again.\n\n\"Prigio!\" said his majesty, \"where were you off to?  Don't you remember\nthat this is your wedding-day?  My proclamation offered, not only the\nmoney (which you have), but the hand of the Lady Molinda, which the Court\nchaplain will presently make your own.  I congratulate you, sir; Molinda\nis a dear girl.\"\n\n\"I have the highest affection and esteem for my cousin, sir,\" said the\nprince, \"but--\"\n\n\"I'll never marry him!\" cried poor Molinda, kneeling at the throne, where\nher streaming eyes and hair made a pretty and touching picture.  \"Never!\nI despise him!\"\n\n{Molinda before the King: p117.jpg}\n\n\"I was about to say, sir,\" the prince went on, \"that I cannot possibly\nhave the pleasure of wedding my cousin.\"\n\n\"The family gibbet, I presume, is in good working order?\" asked the king\nof the family executioner, a tall gaunt man in black and scarlet, who was\nonly employed in the case of members of the blood royal.\n\n\"Never better, sire,\" said the man, bowing with more courtliness than his\nprofession indicated.\n\n\"Very well,\" said the king; \"Prince Prigio, you have your choice.  _There_\nis the gallows, _here_ is Lady Molinda.  My duty is painful, but clear.  A\nking's word cannot be broken.  Molly, or the gibbet!\"\n\nThe prince bowed respectfully to Lady Molinda:\n\n\"Madam, my cousin,\" said he, \"your clemency will excuse my answer, and\nyou will not misinterpret the apparent discourtesy of my conduct.  I am\ncompelled, most unwillingly, to slight your charms, and to select the\nExtreme Rigour of the Law.  Executioner, lead on!  Do your duty; for me,\n_Prigio est pret_;\"--for this was his motto, and meant that he was ready.\n\nPoor Lady Molinda could not but be hurt by the prince's preference for\ndeath over marriage to her, little as she liked him.\n\n{The family executioner: p119.jpg}\n\n\"Is life, then, so worthless? and is Molinda so terrible a person that\nyou prefer _those_ arms,\" and she pointed to the gibbet, \"to\n_these_?\"--here she held out her own, which were very white, round and\npretty: for Molinda was a good-hearted girl, she could not bear to see\nPrigio put to death; and then, perhaps, she reflected that there are\nworse positions than the queenship of Pantouflia.  For Alphonso was\ngone--crying would not bring him back.\n\n\"Ah, Madam!\" said the prince, \"you are forgiving--\"\n\n\"For _you_ are brave!\" said Molinda, feeling quite a respect for him.\n\n\"But neither your heart nor mine is ours to give.  Since mine was\nanother's, I understand too well the feeling of _yours_!  Do not let us\nbuy life at the price of happiness and honour.\"\n\nThen, turning to the king, the prince said:\n\n\"Sir, is there no way but by death or marriage?  You say you cannot keep\nhalf only of your promise; and that, if I accept the reward, I must also\nunite myself with my unwilling cousin.  Cannot the whole proclamation be\nannulled, and will you consider the bargain void if I tear up this flimsy\nscroll?\"\n\nAnd here the prince fluttered the cheque for 1,000,000 pounds in the air.\n\nFor a moment the king was tempted; but then he said to himself:\n\n\"Never mind, it's only an extra penny on the income-tax.\"  Then, \"Keep\nyour dross,\" he shouted, meaning the million; \"but let _me_ keep my\npromise.  To chapel at once, or--\" and he pointed to the executioner.\n\"The word of a king of Pantouflia is sacred.\"\n\n\"And so is that of a crown prince,\" answered Prigio; \"and _mine_ is\npledged to a lady.\"\n\n\"She shall be a mourning bride,\" cried the king savagely, \"unless\"--here\nhe paused for a moment--\"unless you bring me back Alphonso and Enrico,\nsafe and well!\"\n\nThe prince thought for the space of a flash of lightning.\n\n\"I accept the alternative,\" he said, \"if your majesty will grant me my\nconditions.\"\n\n\"Name them!\" said the king.\n\n\"Let me be transported to Gluckstein, left there unguarded, and if, in\nthree days, I do not return with my brothers safe and well, your majesty\nshall be spared a cruel duty.  Prigio of Pantouflia will perish by his\nown hand.\"\n\nThe king, whose mind did not work very quickly, took some minutes to\nthink over it.  Then he saw that by granting the prince's conditions, he\nwould either recover his dear sons, or, at least, get rid of Prigio,\nwithout the unpleasantness of having him executed.  For, though some\nkings have put their eldest sons to death, and most have wished to do so,\nthey have never been better loved by the people for their Roman virtue.\n\n\"Honour bright?\" said the king at last.\n\n\"Honour bright!\" answered the prince, and, for the first time in many\nmonths, the royal father and son shook hands.\n\n\"For you, madam,\" said Prigio in a stately way to Lady Molinda, \"in less\nthan a week I trust we shall be taking our vows at the same altar, and\nthat the close of the ceremony which finds us cousins will leave us\nbrother and sister.\"\n\nPoor Molinda merely stared; for she could not imagine what he meant.  In\na moment he was gone; and having taken, by the king's permission, the\nflying carpet, he was back at the ambassador's house in Gluckstein.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\n\n_The Black Cat and the Brethren_!\n\nWho was glad to see the prince, if it was not Lady Rosalind?  The white\nroses of her cheeks turned to red roses in a moment, and then back to\nwhite again, they were so alarmed at the change.  So the two went into\nthe gardens together, and talked about a number of things; but at last\nthe prince told her that, before three days were over, all would be well,\nor all would be over with him.  For either he would have brought his\nbrothers back, sound and well, to Falkenstein, or he would not survive\nhis dishonour.\n\n\"It is no more than right,\" he said; \"for had I gone first, neither of\nthem would have been sent to meet the monster after I had fallen.  And I\n_should_ have fallen, dear Rosalind, if I had faced the Firedrake before\nI knew _you_.\"\n\nThen when she asked him why, and what good she had done him, he told her\nall the story; and how, before he fell in love with her, he didn't\nbelieve in fairies, or Firedrakes, or caps of darkness, or anything nice\nand impossible, but only in horrid useless facts, and chemistry, and\ngeology, and arithmetic, and mathematics, and even political economy.  And\nthe Firedrake would have made a mouthful of him, then.\n\nSo she was delighted when she heard this, almost as much delighted as she\nwas afraid that he might fail in the most difficult adventure.  For it\nwas one thing to egg on a Remora to kill a Firedrake, and quite another\nto find the princes if they were alive, and restore them if they were\ndead!\n\nBut the prince said he had his plan, and he stayed that night at the\nambassador's.  Next morning he rose very early, before anyone else was\nup, that he might not have to say \"Good-bye\" to Lady Rosalind.  Then he\nflew in a moment to the old lonely castle, where nobody went for fear of\nghosts, ever since the Court retired to Falkenstein.\n\nHow still it was, how deserted; not a sign of life, and yet the prince\nwas looking everywhere _for some living thing_.  He hunted the castle\nthrough in vain, and then went out to the stable-yard; but all the dogs,\nof course, had been taken away, and the farmers had offered homes to the\npoultry.  At last, stretched at full length in a sunny place, the prince\nfound a very old, half-blind, miserable cat.  The poor creature was lean,\nand its fur had fallen off in patches; it could no longer catch birds,\nnor even mice, and there was nobody to give it milk.  But cats do not\nlook far into the future; and this old black cat--Frank was his name--had\ngot a breakfast somehow, and was happy in the sun.  The prince stood and\nlooked at him pityingly, and he thought that even a sick old cat was, in\nsome ways, happier than most men.\n\n\"Well,\" said the prince at last, \"he could not live long anyway, and it\nmust be done.  He will feel nothing.\"\n\nThen he drew the sword of sharpness, and with one turn of his wrist cut\nthe cat's head clean off.\n\n{Poor old Frank: p128.jpg}\n\nIt did not at once change into a beautiful young lady, as perhaps you\nexpect; no, that was improbable, and, as the prince was in love already,\nwould have been vastly inconvenient.  The dead cat lay there, like any\ncommon cat.\n\nThen the prince built up a heap of straw, with wood on it, and there he\nlaid poor puss, and set fire to the pile.  Very soon there was nothing of\nold black Frank left but ashes!\n\nThen the prince ran upstairs to the fairy cupboard, his heart beating\nloudly with excitement.  The sun was shining through the arrow-shot\nwindow, all the yellow motes were dancing in its rays.  The light fell on\nthe strange heaps of fairy things--talismans and spells.  The prince\nhunted about here and there, and at last he discovered six ancient water-\nvessels of black leather, each with a silver plate on it, and on the\nplate letters engraved.  This was what was written on the plates:\n\nAQVA. DE. FONTE. LEONVM. {130}\n\n\"Thank heaven!\" said the prince.  \"I thought they were sure to have\nbrought it!\"\n\nThen he took one of the old black-leather bottles, and ran downstairs\nagain to the place where he had burned the body of the poor old sick cat.\n\nHe opened the bottle, and poured a few drops of the water on the ashes\nand the dying embers.\n\nUp there sprang a tall, white flame of fire, waving like a tongue of\nlight; and forth from the heap jumped the most beautiful, strong, funny,\nblack cat that ever was seen!\n\n{The Prince and the bottles: p130.jpg}\n\nIt was Frank as he had been in the vigour of his youth; and he knew the\nprince at once, and rubbed himself against him and purred.\n\nThe prince lifted up Frank and kissed his nose for joy; and a bright tear\nrolled down on Frank's face, and made him rub his nose with his paw in\nthe most comical manner.\n\nThen the prince set him down, and he ran round and round after his tail;\nand, lastly, cocked his tail up, and marched proudly after the prince\ninto the castle.\n\n\"Oh, Frank!\" said Prince Prigio, \"no cat since the time of Puss in Boots\nwas ever so well taken care of as you shall be.  For, if the fairy water\nfrom the Fountain of Lions can bring _you_ back to life--why, there is a\nchance for Alphonso and Enrico!\"\n\nThen Prigio bustled about, got ready some cold luncheon from the store-\nroom, took all his fairy things that he was likely to need, sat down with\nthem on the flying carpet, and wished himself at the mountain of the\nFiredrake.\n\n\"I have the king now,\" he said; \"for if I can't find the ashes of my\nbrothers, by Jove!  I'll!--\"\n\nDo you know what he meant to do, if he could not find his brothers?  Let\nevery child guess!\n\nOff he flew; and there he was in a second, just beside poor Alphono's\ngarden-engine.  Then Prigio, seeing a little heap of grey ashes beside\nthe engine, watered them with the fairy water; and up jumped Alphonso, as\njolly as ever, his sword in his hand.\n\n\"Hullo, Prigio!\" cried he; \"are you come after the monster too?  I've\nbeen asleep, and I had a kind of dream that he beat me.  But the pair of\nus will tackle him.  How is Molinda?\"\n\n\"Prettier than ever,\" said Prigio; \"but anxious about you.  However, the\nFiredrake's dead and done for; so never mind him.  But I left Enrico\nsomewhere about.  Just you sit down and wait a minute, till I fetch him.\"\n\nThe prince said this, because he did not wish Alphonso to know that he\nand Enrico had not had quite the best of it in the affair with the\nmonster.\n\n\"All right, old fellow,\" says Alphonso; \"but have you any luncheon with\nyou?  Never was so hungry in my life!\"\n\nPrince Prigio had thought of this, and he brought out some cold sausage\n(to which Alphonso was partial) and some bread, with which the younger\nprince expressed himself satisfied.  Then Prigio went up the hill some\nway, first warning Alphonso _not_ to sit on his carpet for fear of\n_accidents_ like that which happened to Benson.  In a hollow of the hill,\nsure enough there was the sword of Enrico, the diamonds of the hilt\ngleaming in the sun.  And there was a little heap of grey ashes.\n\nThe prince poured a few drops of the water from the Fountain of Lions on\nthem, and up, of course, jumped Enrico, just as Alphonso had done.\n\n\"Sleepy old chap you are, Enrico,\" said the prince; \"but come on,\nAlphonso will have finished the grub unless we look smart.\"\n\nSo back they came, in time to get their share of what was going; and they\ndrank the Remora's very good health, when Prigio told them about the\nfight.  But neither of them ever knew that they had been dead and done\nfor; because Prigio invented a story that the mountain was enchanted, and\nthat, as long as the Firedrake lived, everyone who came there fell\nasleep.  He did tell them about the flying carpet, however, which of\ncourse did not much surprise them, because they had read all about it in\nthe _Arabian Nights_ and other historical works.\n\n\"And now I'll show you fun!\" said Prigio; and he asked them both to take\ntheir seats on the carpet, and wished to be in the valley of the Remora.\n\nThere they were in a moment, among the old knights whom, if you remember,\nthe Remora had frozen into stone.  There was quite a troop of them, in\nall sorts of armour--Greek and Roman, and Knight Templars like Front de\nBoeuf and Brian du Bois Gilbert--all the brave warriors that had tried to\nfight the Remora since the world began.\n\nThen Prigio gave each of his brothers some of the water in their caps,\nand told them to go round pouring a drop or two on each frozen knight.\nAnd as they did it, lo and behold! each knight came alive, with his\nhorse, and lifted his sword and shouted:\n\n\"Long live Prince Prigio!\"\n\nin Greek, Latin, Egyptian, French, German, and Spanish,--all of which the\nprince perfectly understood, and spoke like a native.\n\nSo he marshalled them in order, and sent them off to ride to Falkenstein\nand cry:\n\n\"Prince Prigio is coming!\"\n\nOff they went, the horses' hoofs clattering, banners flying, sunshine\nglittering on the spear-points.  Off they rode to Falkenstein; and when\nthe king saw them come galloping in, I can tell you he had no more notion\nof hanging Prigio.\n\n{Riding off to Falkenstein: p136.jpg}\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\n\n_The Very Last_.\n\nThe princes returned to Gluckstein on the carpet, and went to the best\ninn, where they dined together and slept.  Next morning they, and the\nambassador, who had been told all the story, and Lady Rosalind, floated\ncomfortably on the carpet back to Falkenstein, where the king wept like\nanything on the shoulders of Alphonso and Enrico.  They could not make\nout why he cried so, nor why Lady Molinda and Lady Kathleena cried; but\nsoon they were all laughing and happy again.  But then--would you believe\nhe could be so mean?--he refused to keep his royal promise, and restore\nPrigio to his crown-princeship!  Kings are like that.\n\nBut Prigio, very quietly asking for the head of the Firedrake, said he'd\npour the magic water on _that_, and bring the Firedrake back to life\nagain, unless his majesty behaved rightly.  This threat properly\nfrightened King Grognio, and he apologised.  Then the king shook hands\nwith Prigio in public, and thanked him, and said he was proud of him.  As\nto Lady Rosalind, the old gentleman quite fell in love with her, and he\nsent at once to the Chaplain Royal to get into his surplice, and marry\nall the young people off at once, without waiting for wedding-cakes, and\nmilliners, and all the rest of it.\n\nNow, just as they were forming a procession to march into church, who\nshould appear but the queen!  Her majesty had been travelling by post all\nthe time, and, luckily, had heard of none of the doings since Prigio,\nBenson, and the king left Gluckstein.  I say _luckily_ because if she\n_had_ heard of them, she would not have believed a word of them.  But\nwhen she saw Alphonso and Enrico, she was much pleased, and said:\n\n{The Queen and her sons: p140.jpg}\n\n\"Naughty boys!  Where have you been hiding?  The king had some absurd\nstory about your having been killed by a fabulous monster.  Bah! don't\ntell _me_.  I always said you would come back after a little trip--didn't\nI, Prigio?\"\n\n\"Certainly, madam,\" said Prigio; \"and I said so, too.  Didn't I say so?\"\nAnd all the courtiers cried: \"Yes, you did;\" but some added, to\nthemselves, \"_He always says_, 'Didn't I say so?'\"\n\nThen the queen was introduced to Lady Rosalind, and she said it was\n\"rather a short engagement, but she supposed young people understood\ntheir own affairs best.\"  And they do!  So the three pairs were married,\nwith the utmost rejoicings; and her majesty never, her whole life long,\ncould be got to believe that anything unusual had occurred.\n\nThe honeymoon of Prince Prigio and the Crown Princess Rosalind was passed\nat the castle, where the prince had been deserted by the Court.  But now\nit was delightfully fitted up; and Master Frank marched about the house\nwith his tail in the air, as if the place belonged to him.\n\nNow, on the second day of their honeymoon, the prince and princess were\nsitting in the garden together, and the prince said, \"Are you _quite_\nhappy, my dear?\" and Rosalind said, \"Yes; _quite_.\"\n\nBut the prince did not like the tone of her voice, and he said:\n\n\"No, there's something; do tell me what it is.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Rosalind, putting her head on his shoulder, and speaking\nvery low, \"I want everybody to love you as much as I do.  No, not quite\nso very much,--but I want them to like you.  Now they _can't_, because\nthey are afraid of you; for you are so awfully clever.  Now, couldn't you\ntake the wishing cap, and wish to be no cleverer than other people?  Then\neverybody would like you!\"\n\nThe prince thought a minute, then he said:\n\n\"Your will is law, my dear; anything to please you.  Just wait a minute!\"\n\nThen he ran upstairs, for the last time, to the fairy garret, and he put\non the wishing cap.\n\n\"No,\" thought he to himself, \"I won't wish _that_.  Every man has one\nsecret from his wife, and this shall be mine.\"\n\nThen he said aloud: \"I WISH TO SEEM NO CLEVERER THAN OTHER PEOPLE.\"\n\nThen he ran downstairs again, and the princess noticed a great difference\nin him (though, of course, there was really none at all), and so did\neveryone.  For the prince remained as clever as ever he had been; but, as\nnobody observed it, he became the most popular prince, and finally the\nbest-beloved king who had ever sat on the throne of Pantouflia.\n\nBut occasionally Rosalind would say, \"I do believe, my dear, that you are\nreally as clever as ever!\"\n\nAnd he _was_!\n\n{The Prince putting on the wishing cap: p144.jpg}\n\nPRINTING OFFICE OF THE PUBLISHER.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes\n\n\n{25}  Subjunctive mood!  He was a great grammarian!\n\n{100}  The History of this Prince may be read in a treatise called _The\nRose and the Ring_, by M. A. TITMARSH.  London, 1855.\n\n{130}  Water from the Fountain of Lions.","title":"Prince Prigio","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":17456}