wrongs, soothed me with promises of near redress. I should

espouse his daughter, young Angelica; we two indeed should
reign in Paflagonia. His words were false--false as Angelica's

heart!--false as Angelica's hair, colour, front teeth! She
looked with her skew eyes upon young Bulbo, Crim Tartary's

stupid heir, and she preferred him.' Twas then I turned my
eyes upon Betsinda--Rosalba, as she now is. And I saw in her

the blushing sum of all perfection; the pink of maiden modesty;
the nymph that my fond heart had ever woo'd in dreams,' etc.

etc.
(I don't give this speech, which was very fine, but very long;

and though Smith and Jones knew nothing about the
circumstances, my dear reader does, so I go on.)

The Prince and his young friends hastened home to his
apartment, highly excited by the intelligence, as no doubt by

the ROYAL NARRATOR'S admirable manner of recounting it, and
they ran up to his room where he had worked so hard at his

books.
On his writing-table was his bag, grown so long that the Prince

could not help remarking it. He went to it, opened it, and
what do you think he found in it?

A splendid long, gold-handled, red-velvet-scabbarded,
cut-and-thrust sword, and on the sheath was embroidered

'ROSALBA FOR EVER!'
He drew out the sword, which flashed and illuminated the whole

room, and called out 'Rosalba for ever!' Smith and Jones
following him, but quite respectfully this time, and taking the

time from His Royal Highness.
And now his trunk opened with a sudden pony, and out there came

three ostrich feathers in a gold crown, surrounding a beautiful
shining steel helmet, a cuirass, a pair of spurs, finally a

complete suit of armour.
The books on Giglio's shelves were all gone. Where there had

been some great dictionaries, Giglio's friends found two pairs
of jack-boots labelled, 'Lieutenant Smith,' '--Jones, Esq.,'

which fitted them to a nicety. Besides, there were helmets,
back and breast plates, swords, etc., just like in Mr. G. P. R.

James's novels; and that evening three cavaliers might have
been seen issuing from the gates of Bosforo, in whom the

porters, proctors, etc., never thought of recognising the young
Prince and his friends.

They got horses at a livery stable-keeper's, and never drew
bridle until they reached the last town on the frontier before

you come to Crim Tartary. Here, as their animals were tired,
and the cavaliers hungry, they stopped and refreshed at an

hostel. I could make a chapter of this if I were like some
writers, but I like to cram my measure tight down, you see, and

give you a great deal for your money, and, in a word, they had
some bread and cheese and ale upstairs on the balcony of the

inn. As they were drinking, drums and trumpets sounded nearer
and nearer, the marketplace was filled with soldiers, and His

Royal Highness looking forth, recognised the Paflagonian
banners, and the Paflagonian national air which the bands were

playing.
The troops all made for the tavern at once, and as they came up

Giglio exclaimed, on beholding their leader, 'Whom do I see?
Yes! No! It is, it is! Phoo! No, it can't be! Yes! It is

my friend, my gallantfaithfulveteran, Captain Hedzoff! Ho!
Hedzoff! Knowest thou not thy Prince, thy Giglio? Good

Corporal, methinks we once were friends. Ha, Sergeant, an' my
memory serves me right, we have had many a bout at

singlestick.'
'I' faith, we have, a many, good my Lord,' says the Sergeant.

'Tell me, what means this mighty armament,' continued His Royal
Highness from the balcony, 'and whither march my Paflagonians?'

Hedzoff's head fell. 'My Lord,' he said, 'we march as the
allies of great Padella, Crim Tartary's monarch.'

'Crim Tartary's usurper, gallant Hedzoff! Crim Tartary's grim
tyrant, honest Hedzoff!' said the Prince, on the balcony, quite

sarcastically.
'A soldier, Prince, must needs obey his orders: mine are to

help His Majesty Padella. And also (though alack that I should
say it!) to seize wherever I should light upon him.'

'First catch your hare! ha, Hedzoff!' exclaimed His Royal
Highness.

'--On the body of GIGLIO, whilome Prince of Paflagonia' Hedzoff
went on, with indescribableemotion. 'My Prince, give up your

sword without ado. Look! we are thirty thousand men to one!'
'Give up my sword! Giglio give up his sword!' cried the Prince;

and stepping well forward on to the balcony, the royal youth,
WITHOUT PREPARATION, delivered a speech so magnificent, that no

report can do justice to it. It was all in blank verse (in
which, from this time, he invariably spoke, as more becoming

his majestic station). It lasted for three days and three
nights, during which not a single person who heard him was

tired, or remarked the difference between daylight and dark.
The soldiers only cheering tremendously, when occasionally,

once in nine hours, the Prince paused to suck an orange, which
Jones took out of the bag. He explained, in terms which we say

we shall not attempt to convey, the whole history of the
previous transaction, and his determination not only not to

give up his sword, but to assume his rightful crown; and at the
end of this extraordinary, this truly GIGANTIC effort, Captain

Hedzoff flung up his helmet, and cried, 'Hurray! Hurray! Long
live King Giglio!'

Such were the consequences of having employed his time well at
College!

When the excitement had ceased, beer was ordered out for the
army, and their Sovereign himself did not disdain a little! And

now it was with some alarm that Captain Hedzoff told him his
division was only the advanced guard of the Paflagonian

contingent, hastening to King Padella's aid; the main force
being a day's march in the rear under His Royal Highness Prince

Bulbo.
'We will wait here, good friend, to beat the Prince,' His

Majesty said, 'and THEN will make his royal father wince.'
XV. WE RETURN TO ROSALBA

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.
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