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Hungry she took out a cold fowl, some slices of ham, bread, salt, and a most delicious piece of cold plum-pudding, and a little glass of brandy afterwards. As they travelled, this plain-looking, queer woman talked to Giglio on a variety of subjects, in which the poor Prince showed his ignorance as much as she did her capacity.
"Lend me a smelling-bottle, somebody. I certainly shall faint with joy." "YOU my bride?" roars out Giglio. "YOU marry my Prince?" cried poor little Rosalba. "Pooh! Nonsense! The woman's mad!" exclaims the King. And all the courtiers exhibited by their countenances and expressions, marks of surprise, or ridicule, or incredulity, or wonder.
"And who is my old friend?" asked Giglio. "When you want anything," says the lady, "look in this bag, which I leave to you as a present, and be grateful to " "To whom, madam?" says he. "To the Fairy Blackstick," says the lady, flying out of the window. And then Giglio asked the conductor if he knew where the lady was?
So the Lady of Honor and the Prime Minister hated Giglio because they had done him a wrong; and these unprincipled people invented a hundred cruel stories about poor Giglio, in order to influence the King, Queen, and Princess against him; how he was so ignorant that he could not spell the commonest words, and actually wrote Valoroso Valloroso, and spelt Angelica with two l's; how he drank a great deal too much wine at dinner, and was always idling in the stables with the grooms; how he owed ever so much money at the pastry-cook's and the haberdasher's; how he used to go to sleep at church; how he was fond of playing cards with the pages.
For, thought Glumboso and the Countess, 'when Prince Giglio marries his cousin and comes to the throne, what a pretty position we shall be in, whom he dislikes, and who have always been unkind to him. We shall lose our places in a trice; Mrs.
So the marriage party drove up to the palace: the dignitaries got out of their carriages and stood aside: poor Rosalba stepped out of her coach, supported by Bulbo, and stood almost fainting up against the railings so as to have a last look of her dear Giglio.
And she looked fondly towards Giglio, whom she thought a pattern of perfection. "Why is Fairy Blackstick always advising me, and telling me how to manage my government, and warning me to keep my word? Does she suppose that I am not a man of sense, and a man of honor?" asks Giglio testily. "Methinks she rather presumes upon her position." "Hush! dear Giglio," says Rosalba.
'Oh, sir! Rosalba said, withdrawing her hand in great fright. 'Your Lordship is exceedingly kind; but I am sorry to tell you that I have a prior attachment to a young gentleman by the name of Prince Giglio and never never can marry any one but him. Who can describe Hogginarmo's wrath at this remark?
'A little bird, says Angelica. 'Poor Giglio! says mamma, pouring out the tea. 'Bother Giglio! cries Angelica, tossing up her head, which rustled with a thousand curl-papers. 'I wish, growls the King 'I wish Giglio was. . . 'Was better? Yes, dear, he is better, says the Queen. 'Angelica's little maid, Betsinda, told me so when she came to my room this morning with my early tea.
Now you are united and happy; and now you see what I said from the first, that a little misfortune has done you both good. YOU, Giglio, had you been bred in prosperity, would scarcely have learned to read or write you would have been idle and extravagant, and could not have been a good King as now you will be.
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