out 'Forward, my men!' 'This way, lads!' 'Give it 'em, boys!'
'Fight for King Giglio, and the cause of right!' 'King Padella
for ever!' Would I not describe all this, I say, and in the
very finest language too? But this
humble pen does not possess
the skill necessary for the
description of combats. In a word,
the
overthrow of King Padella's army was so complete, that if
they had been Russians you could not have wished them to be
more utterly smashed and confounded.
As for that usurping
monarch, having performed acts of velour
much more
considerable than could be expected of a royal
ruffian and usurper, who had such a bad cause, and who was so
cruel to women,--as for King Padella, I say, when his army ran
away, the King ran away too, kicking his first general, Prince
Punchikoff, from his
saddle, and
galloping away on the Prince's
horse, having, indeed, had twenty-five or twenty-six of his own
shot under him. Hedzoff coming up, and
finding Punchikoff
down, as you may imagine, very
speedily disposed of HIM.
Meanwhile King Padella was scampering off as hard as his horse
could lay legs to ground. Fast as he scampered, I promise you
somebody else
galloped faster; and that individual, as no doubt
you are aware, was the Royal Giglio, who kept bawling out,
'Stay, traitor! Turn, miscreant, and defend thyself! Stand,
tyrant,
coward,
ruffian, royal
wretch, till I cut thy ugly head
from thy usurping shoulders!' And, with his fairy sword, which
elongated itself at will, His Majesty kept poking and prodding
Padella in the back, until that
wickedmonarch roared with
anguish.
When he was fairly brought to bay, Padella turned and dealt
Prince Giglio a
prodigious crack over the sconce with his
battle-axe, a most
enormousweapon, which had cut down I don't
know how many
regiments in the course of the afternoon. But,
Law bless you! though the blow fell right down on His Majesty's
helmet, it made no more
impression than if Padella had struck
him with a pat of butter: his battle-axe crumpled up in
Padella's hand, and the Royal Giglio laughed for very scorn at
the impotent efforts of that atrocious usurper.
At the ill success of his blow the Crim Tartar
monarch was
justly irritated. 'If,' says he to Giglio, 'you ride a fairy
horse, and wear fairy
armour, what on earth is the use of my
hitting you? I may as well give myself up a prisoner at once.
Your Majesty won't, I suppose, be so mean as to strike a poor
fellow who can't strike again?'
The justice of Padella's remark struck the magnanimous Giglio.
'Do you yield yourself a prisoner, Padella?' says he.
'Of course I do,' says Padella.
'Do you
acknowledge Rosalba as your
rightful Queen, and give up
the crown and all your treasures to your
rightful mistress?'
'If I must, I must,' says Padella, who was naturally very
sulky.
By this time King Giglio's aides-de-camp had come up, whom His
Majesty ordered to bind the prisoner. And they tied his hands
behind him, and bound his legs tight under his horse, having
set him with his face to the tail; and in this fashion he was
led back to King Giglio's quarters, and
thrust into the very
dungeon where young Bulbo had been confined.
Padella (who was a very different person in the depth of his
distress, to Padella, the proud wearer of the Crim Tartar
crown), now most
affectionately and
earnestly asked to see his
son--his dear
eldest boy--his
darling Bulbo; and that
good-natured young man never once reproached his
haughty parent
for his
unkind conduct the day before, when he would have left
Bulbo to be shot without any pity, but came to see his father,
and spoke to him through the
grating of the door, beyond which
he was not allowed to go; and brought him some sandwiches from
the grand supper which His Majesty was giving above stairs, in
honour of the
brilliantvictory which had just been achieved.
'I cannot stay with you long, sir,' says Bulbo, who was in his
best ball dress, as he handed his father in the prog, 'I am
engaged to dance the next quadrille with Her Majesty Queen
Rosalba, and I hear the fiddles playing at this very moment.'
So Bulbo went back to the ball-room and the
wretched Padella
ate his
solitary supper in silence and tears.
All was now joy in King Giglio's
circle. Dancing, feasting,
fun, illuminations, and jollifications of all sorts ensued.
The people through whose villages they passed were ordered to
illuminate their cottages at night, and scatter flowers on the