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<h2> XV. WE RETURN TO ROSALBA </h2>
<p>King Padella made very similar proposals to Rosalba to those which she had
received from the various princes who, as we have seen, had fallen in love
with her. His Majesty was a widower, and offered to marry his fair captive
that instant, but she declined his invitation in her usual polite gentle
manner, stating that Prince Giglio was her love, and that any other union
was out of the question. Having tried tears and supplications in vain,
this violent-tempered monarch menaced her with threats and tortures; but
she declared she would rather suffer all these than accept the hand of her
father’s murderer, who left her finally, uttering the most awful
imprecations, and bidding her prepare for death on the following morning.</p>
<p>All night long the King spent in advising how he should get rid of this
obdurate young creature. Cutting off her head was much too easy a death
for her; hanging was so common in His Majesty’s dominions that it no
longer afforded him any sport; finally, he bethought himself of a pair of
fierce lions which had lately been sent to him as presents, and he
determined, with these ferocious brutes, to hunt poor Rosalba down.
Adjoining his castle was an amphitheatre where the Prince indulged in
bull-baiting, rat-hunting, and other ferocious sports. The two lions were
kept in a cage under this place; their roaring might be heard over the
whole city, the inhabitants of which, I am sorry to say, thronged in
numbers to see a poor young lady gobbled up by two wild beasts.</p>
<p>The King took his place in the royal box, having the officers of his Court
around and the Count Hogginarmo by his side, upon whom His Majesty was
observed to look very fiercely; the fact is, royal spies had told the
monarch of Hogginarmo’s behaviour, his proposals to Rosalba, and his offer
to fight for the crown. Black as thunder looked King Padella at this proud
noble, as they sat in the front seats of the theatre waiting to see the
tragedy whereof poor Rosalba was to be the heroine.</p>
<p>At length that Princess was brought out in her nightgown, with all her
beautiful hair falling down her back, and looking so pretty that even the
beef-eaters and keepers of the wild animals wept plentifully at seeing
her. And she walked with her poor little feet (only luckily the arena was
covered with sawdust), and went and leaned up against a great stone in the
centre of the amphitheatre, round which the Court and the people were
seated in boxes, with bars before them, for fear of the great, fierce,
red-maned, black-throated, long-tailed, roaring, bellowing, rushing lions.
And now the gates were opened, and with a wurrawarrurawarar two great
lean, hungry, roaring lions rushed out of their den, where they had been
kept for three weeks on nothing but a little toast-and-water, and dashed
straight up to the stone where poor Rosalba was waiting. Commend her to
your patron saints, all you kind people, for she is in a dreadful state!</p>
<p>There was a hum and a buzz all through the circus, and the fierce King
Padella even felt a little compassion. But Count Hogginarmo, seated by His
Majesty, roared out ‘Hurray! Now for it! Soo-soo-soo!’ that nobleman being
uncommonly angry still at Rosalba’s refusal of him.</p>
<p>But O strange event! O remarkable circumstance! O extraordinary
coincidence, which I am sure none of you could BY ANY POSSIBILITY have
divined! When the lions came to Rosalba, instead of devouring her with
their great teeth, it was with kisses they gobbled her up! They licked her
pretty feet, they nuzzled their noses in her lap, they moo’d, they seemed
to say, ‘Dear, dear sister don’t you recollect your brothers in the
forest?’ And she put her pretty white arms round their tawny necks, and
kissed them.</p>
<p>King Padella was immensely astonished. The Count Hogginarmo was extremely
disgusted. ‘Pooh!’ the Count cried. ‘Gammon!’ exclaimed his Lordship.’
These lions are tame beasts come from Wombwell’s or Astley’s. It is a
shame to put people off in this way. I believe they are little boys
dressed up in door-mats. They are no lions at all.’</p>
<p>‘Ha!’ said the King, ‘you dare to say “gammon” to your Sovereign, do you?
These lions are no lions at all, aren’t they? Ho! my beef-eaters! Ho! my
bodyguard! Take this Count Hogginarmo and fling him into the circus! Give
him a sword and buckler, let him keep his armour on, and his weather-eye
out, and fight these lions.’</p>
<p>The haughty Hogginarmo laid down his opera-glass, and looked scowling
round at the King and his attendants. ‘Touch me not, dogs!’ he said, ‘or
by St. Nicholas the Elder, I will gore you! Your Majesty thinks Hogginarmo
is afraid? No, not of a hundred thousand lions! Follow me down into the
circus, King Padella, and match thyself against one of yon brutes. Thou
darest not. Let them both come on, then!’ And opening a grating of the
box, he jumped lightly down into the circus.</p>
<p>WURRA WURRA WURRA WUR-AW-AW-AW!!!<br/>
In about two minutes<br/>
The Count Hogginarmo was<br/>
GOBBLED UP<br/>
by<br/>
those lions,<br/>
bones, boots, and all,<br/>
and<br/>
There was an<br/>
End of him.<br/></p>
<p>At this, the King said, ‘Serve him right, the rebellious ruffian! And now,
as those lions won’t eat that young woman—’</p>
<p>‘Let her off!—let her off!’ cried the crowd.</p>
<p>‘NO!’ roared the King. ‘Let the beef-eaters go down and chop her into
small pieces. If the lions defend her, let the archers shoot them to
death. That hussy shall die in tortures!’</p>
<p>‘A-a-ah!’ cried the crowd. ‘Shame! shame!’</p>
<p>‘Who dares cry out shame?’ cried the furious potentate (so little can
tyrants command their passions). ‘Fling any scoundrel who says a word down
among the lions!’</p>
<p>I warrant you there was a dead silence then, which was broken by a Pang
arang pang pangkarangpang, and a Knight and a Herald rode in at the
further end of the circus: the Knight, in full armour, with his vizor up,
and bearing a letter on the point of his lance.</p>
<p>‘Ha!’ exclaimed the King, ‘by my fey, ‘tis Elephant and Castle, pursuivant
of my brother of Paflagonia; and the Knight, an’ my memory serves me, is
the gallant Captain Hedzoff! What news from Paflagonia, gallant Hedzoff?
Elephant and Castle, beshrew me, thy trumpeting must have made thee
thirsty. What will my trusty herald like to drink?’</p>
<p>‘Bespeaking first safe conduct from your Lordship,’ said Captain Hedzoff,
‘before we take a drink of anything, permit us to deliver our King’s
message.’</p>
<p>‘My Lordship, ha!’ said Crim Tartary, frowning terrifically. ‘That title
soundeth strange in the anointed ears of a crowned King. Straightway speak
out your message, Knight and Herald!’</p>
<p>Reining up his charger in a most elegant manner close under the King’s
balcony, Hedzoff turned to the Herald, and bade him begin.</p>
<p>Elephant and Castle, dropping his trumpet over his shoulder, took a large
sheet of paper out of his hat, and began to read:—</p>
<p>‘O Yes! O Yes! O Yes! Know all men by these presents, that we, Giglio,
King of Paflagonia, Grand Duke of Cappadocia, Sovereign Prince of Turkey
and the Sausage Islands, having assumed our rightful throne and title,
long time falsely borne by our usurping Uncle, styling himself King of
Paflagonia—’</p>
<p>‘Ha!’ growled Padella.</p>
<p>‘Hereby summon the false traitor, Padella, calling himself King of Crim
Tartary—’</p>
<p>The King’s curses were dreadful. ‘Go on, Elephant and Castle!’ said the
intrepid Hedzoff.</p>
<p>‘—To release from cowardly imprisonment his liege lady and rightful
Sovereign, ROSALBA, Queen of Crim Tartary, and restore her to her royal
throne: in default of which, I, Giglio, proclaim the said Padella sneak,
traitor, humbug, usurper, and coward. I challenge him to meet me, with
fists or with pistols, with battle-axe or sword, with blunderbuss or
singlestick, alone or at the head of his army, on foot or on horseback;
and will prove my words upon his wicked ugly body!’</p>
<p>‘God save the King!’ said Captain Hedzoff, executing a demivolte, two
semilunes, and three caracols.</p>
<p>‘Is that all?’ said Padella, with the terrific calm of concentrated fury.</p>
<p>‘That, sir, is all my royal master’s message. Here is His Majesty’s letter
in autograph, and here is his glove, and if any gentleman of Crim Tartary
chooses to find fault with His Majesty’s expressions, I, Tuffskin Hedzoff,
Captain of the Guard, am very much at his service,’ and he waved his
lance, and looked at the assembly all round.</p>
<p>‘And what says my good brother of Paflagonia, my dear son’s father-in-law,
to this rubbish?’ asked the King.</p>
<p>‘The King’s uncle hath been deprived of the crown he unjustly wore,’ said
Hedzoff gravely. ‘He and his axminister, Glumboso, are now in prison
waiting the sentence of my royal master. After the battle of Bombardaro—’</p>
<p>‘Of what?’ asked the surprised Padella.</p>
<p>‘Of Bombardaro, where my liege, his present Majesty, would have performed
prodigies of velour, but that the whole of his uncle’s army came over to
our side, with the exception of Prince Bulbo.’</p>
<p>‘Ah! my boy, my boy, my Bulbo was no traitor!’ cried Padella.</p>
<p>‘Prince Bulbo, far from coming over to us, ran away, sir; but I caught
him. The Prince is a prisoner in our army, and the most terrific tortures
await him if a hair of the Princess Rosalba’s head is injured.’</p>
<p>‘Do they?’ exclaimed the furious Padella, who was now perfectly LIVID with
rage.’ Do they indeed? So much the worse for Bulbo. I’ve twenty sons as
lovely each as Bulbo. Not one but is as fit to reign as Bulbo. Whip,
whack, flog, starve, rack, punish, torture Bulbo—break all his bones—roast
him or flay him alive—pull all his pretty teeth out one by one! But
justly dear as Bulbo is to me,—joy of my eyes, fond treasure of my
soul!—Ha, ha, ha, ha! revenge is dearer still. Ho! tortures,
rack-men, executioners—light up the fires and make the pincers hot!
get lots of boiling lead!—Bring out ROSALBA!’</p>
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