The Rose and the Ring
William Makepeace Thackeray
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[Title:The Rose and the Ring, by William Makepeace Thackeray]
[Author:Dianne Bean, Chino Valley, Arizona.]
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[Source:Gutenberg]
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This etext was prepared by Dianne Bean, Chino Valley, Arizona.
The Rose and the Ring by William Makepeace Thackeray
PRELUDE
It happened that the undersigned spent the last Christmas season
in a foreign city where there were many English children.
In that city, if you wanted to give a child's party, you could
not even get a magic-lantern or buy Twelfth-Night
characters--those funny painted pictures of the King, the Queen,
the Lover, the Lady, the Dandy, the Captain, and so on-- with
which our young ones are wont to recreate themselves at this
festive time.
My friend Miss Bunch, who was governess of a large family that
lived in the Piano Nobile of the house inhabited by myself and my
young charges (it was the Palazzo Poniatowski at Rome, and
Messrs. Spillmann, two of the best pastrycooks in Christendom,
have their shop on the ground floor): Miss Bunch, I say, begged
me to draw a set of Twelfth-Night characters for the amusement of
our young people.
She is a lady of great fancy and droll imagination, and having
looked at the characters, she and I composed a history about
them, which was recited to the little folks at night, and served
as our FIRESIDE PANTOMIME.
Our juvenile audience was amused by the adventures of Giglio and
Bulbo, Rosalba and Angelica. I am bound to say the fate of the
Hall Porter created a considerable sensation; and the wrath of
Countess Gruffanuff was received with extreme pleasure.
If these children are pleased, thought I, why should not others
be amused also? In a few days Dr. Birch's young friends will be
expected to reassemble at Rodwell Regis, where they will learn
everything that is useful, and under the eyes of careful ushers
continue the business of their little lives.
But, in the meanwhile, and for a brief holiday, let us laugh and
be as pleasant as we can. And you elder folk--a little joking,
and dancing, and fooling will do even you no harm. The author
wishes you a merry Christmas, and welcomes you to the Fireside
Pantomime.
W. M. THACKERAY. December 1854.
CONTENTS
I. SHOWS HOW THE ROYAL FAMILY SATE DOWN TO BREAKFAST
II. HOW KING VALOROSO GOT THE CROWN, AND PRINCE GIGLIO WENT
WITHOUT
III. TELLS WHO THE FAIRY BLACKSTICK WAS, AND WHO WERE EVER SO
MANY GRAND PERSONAGES BESIDES
IV. HOW BLACKSTICK WAS NOT ASKED TO THE PRINCESS ANGELICA'S
CHRISTENING
V. HOW PRINCESS ANGELICA TOOK A LITTLE MAID
VI. HOW PRINCE GIGLIO BEHAVED HIMSELF
VII. HOW GIGLIO AND ANGELICA HAD A QUARREL
VIII. HOW GRUFFANUFF PICKED THE FAIRY RING UP, AND PRINCE BULBO
CAME TO COURT
IX. HOW BETSINDA GOT THE WARMING-PAN
X. HOW KING VALOROSO WAS IN A DREADFUL PASSION
XI. WHAT GRUFFANUFF DID TO GIGLIO AND BETSINDA
XII. HOW BETSINDA FLED, AND WHAT BECAME OF HER
XIII. HOW QUEEN ROSALBA CAME TO THE CASTLE OF THE BOLD COUNT
HOGGINARMO
XIV. WHAT BECAME OF GIGLIO
XV. WE RETURN TO ROSALBA
XVI. HOW HEDZOFF RODE BACK AGAIN TO KING GIGLIO
XVII. HOW A TREMENDOUS BATTLE TOOK PLACE, AND WHO WON IT
XVIII. HOW THEY ALL JOURNEYED BACK TO THE CAPITAL
XIX. AND NOW WE COME TO THE LAST SCENE IN THE PANTOMIME
THE ROSE AND THE RING
I. SHOWS HOW THE ROYAL FAMILY SATE DOWN TO BREAKFAST
This is Valoroso XXIV., King of Paflagonia, seated with his Queen
and only child at their royal breakfast-table, and receiving the
letter which announces to His Majesty a proposed visit from
Prince Bulbo, heir of Padella, reigning King of Crim Tartary.
Remark the delight upon the monarch's royal features. He is so
absorbed in the perusal of the King of Crim Tartary's letter,
that he allows his eggs to get cold, and leaves his august
muffins untasted.
'What! that wicked, brave, delightful Prince Bulbo!' cries
Princess Angelica; 'so handsome, so accomplished, so witty--the
conqueror of Rimbombamento, where he slew ten thousand giants!'
'Who told you of him, my dear?' asks His Majesty.
'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.'
'You are always drinking tea,' said the monarch, with a scowl.
'It is better than drinking port or brandy and water;' replies
Her Majesty.
'Well, well, my dear, I only said you were fond of drinking tea,'
said the King of Paflagonia, with an effort as if to command his
temper. 'Angelica! I hope you have plenty of new dresses; your
milliners' bills are long enough. My dear Queen, you must see
and have some parties. I prefer dinners, but of course you will
be for balls. Your everlasting blue velvet quite tires me: and,
my love, I should like you to have a new necklace. Order one.
Not more than a hundred or a hundred and fifty thousand pounds.'
'And Giglio, dear?' says the Queen.
'GIGLIO MAY GO TO THE--'
'Oh, sir,' screams Her Majesty. 'Your own nephew! our late
King's only son.'
'Giglio may go to the tailor's, and order the bills to be sent in
to Glumboso to pay. Confound him! I mean bless his dear heart.
He need want for nothing; give him a couple of guineas for
pocket-money, my dear; and you may as well order yourself
bracelets while you are about the necklace, Mrs. V.'
Her Majesty, or MRS. V., as the monarch facetiously called her
(for even royalty will have its sport, and this august family
were very much attached), embraced her husband, and, twining her
arm round her daughter's waist, they quitted the breakfast-room
in order to make all things ready for the princely stranger.
When they were gone, the smile that had lighted up the eyes of
the HUSBAND and FATHER fled--the pride of the KING fled--the MAN
was alone. Had I the pen of a G. P. R. James, I would describe
Valoroso's torments in the choicest language; in which I would
a
lso depict his flashing eye, his distended nostril--his
dressing-gown, pocket-handkerchief, and boots. But I need not
say I have NOT the pen of that novelist; suffice it to say,
Valoroso was alone.
He rushed to the cupboard, seizing from the table one of the many
egg-cups with which his princely board was served for the matin
meal, drew out a bottle of right Nantz or Cognac, filled and
emptied the cup several times, and laid it down with a hoarse
'Ha, ha, ha! now Valoroso is a man again!'
'But oh!' he went on (still sipping, I am sorry to say), 'ere I
was a king, I needed not this intoxicating draught; once I
detested the hot brandy wine, and quaffed no other fount but
nature's rill. It dashes not more quickly o'er the rocks than I
did, as, with blunderbuss in hand, I brushed away the early
morning dew, and shot the partridge, snipe, or antlered deer!
Ah! well may England's dramatist remark, "Uneasy lies the head
that wears a crown!" Why did I steal my nephew's, my young
Giglio's--? Steal! said I? no, no, no, not steal, not steal.
Let me withdraw that odious expression. I took, and on my manly
head I set, the royal crown of Paflagonia; I took, and with my
royal arm I wield, the sceptral rod of Paflagonia; I took, and in
my outstretched hand I hold, the royal orb of Paflagonia! Could
a poor boy, a snivelling, drivelling boy--was in his nurse's arms
but yesterday, and cried for sugarplums and puled for pap--bear
up the awful weight of crown, orb, sceptre? gird on the sword my
royal fathers wore, and meet in fight the tough Crimean foe?'
And then the monarch went on to argue in his own mind (though we
need not say that blank verse is not argument) that what he had
got it was his duty to keep, and that, if at one time he had
entertained ideas of a certain restitution, which shall be
nameless, the prospect by a CERTAIN MARRIAGE of uniting two
crowns and two nations which had been engaged in bloody and
expensive wars, as the Paflagonians and the Crimeans had been,
put the idea of Giglio's restoration to the throne out of the
question: nay, were his own brother, King Savio, alive, he would
certainly will the crown from his own son in order to bring about
such a desirable union.
Thus easily do we deceive ourselves! Thus do we fancy what we
wish is right! The King took courage, read the papers, finished
his muffins and eggs, and rang the bell for his Prime Minister.
The Queen, after thinking whether she should go up and see
Giglio, who had been sick, thought 'Not now. Business first;
pleasure afterwards. I will go and see dear Giglio this
afternoon; and now I will drive to the jeweller's, to look for
the necklace and bracelets.' The Princess went up into her own
room, and made Betsinda, her maid, bring out all her dresses; and
as for Giglio, they forgot him as much as I forget what I had for
dinner last Tuesday twelve-month.
II. HOW KING VALOROSO GOT THE CROWN, AND PRINCE GIGLIO WENT
WITHOUT
Paflagonia, ten or twenty thousand years ago, appears to have
been one of those kingdoms where the laws of succession were not
settled; for when King Savio died, leaving his brother Regent of
the kingdom, and guardian of Savio's orphan infant, this
unfaithful regent took no sort of regard of the late monarch's
will; had himself proclaimed sovereign of Paflagonia under the
title of King Valoroso XXIV., had a most splendid coronation, and
ordered all the nobles of the kingdom to pay him homage. So long
as Valoroso gave them plenty of balls at Court, plenty of money
and lucrative places, the Paflagonian nobility did not care who
was king; and as for the people, in those early times, they were
equally indifferent. The Prince Giglio, by reason of his tender
age at his royal father's death, did not feel the loss of his
crown and empire. As long as he had plenty of toys and
sweetmeats, a holiday five times a week and a horse and gun to go
out shooting when he grew a little older, and, above all, the
company of his darling cousin, the King's only child, poor Giglio
was perfectly contented; nor did he envy his uncle the royal
robes and sceptre, the great hot uncomfortable throne of state,
and the enormous cumbersome crown in which that monarch appeared
from morning till night. King Valoroso's portrait has been left
to us; and I think you will agree with me that he must have been
sometimes RATHER TIRED of his velvet, and his diamonds, and his
ermine, and his grandeur. I shouldn't like to sit in that
stifling robe with such a thing as that on my head.
No doubt, the Queen must have been lovely in her youth; for
though she grew rather stout in after life, yet her features, as
shown in her portrait, are certainly PLEASING. If she was fond
of flattery, scandal, cards, and fine clothes, let us deal gently
with her infirmities, which, after all, may be no greater than
our own. She was kind to her nephew; and if she had any scruples
of conscience about her husband's taking the young Prince's
crown, consoled herself by thinking that the King, though a
usurper, was a most respectable man, and that at his death Prince
Giglio would be restored to his throne, and share it with his
cousin, whom he loved so fondly.
The Prime Minister was Glumboso, an old statesman, who most
cheerfully swore fidelity to King Valoroso, and in whose hands
the monarch left all the affairs of his kingdom. All Valoroso
wanted was plenty of money, plenty of hunting, plenty of
flattery, and as little trouble as possible. As long as he had
his sport, this monarch cared little how his people paid for it:
he engaged in some wars, and of course the Paflagonian newspapers
announced that he had gained prodigious victories: he had
statues erected to himself in every city of the empire; and of
course his pictures placed everywhere, and in all the
print-shops: he was Valoroso the Magnanimous, Valoroso the
Victorious, Valoroso the Great, and so forth;--for even in these
early times courtiers and people knew how to flatter.
This royal pair had one only child, the Princess Angelica, who,
you may be sure, was a paragon in the courtiers' eyes, in her
parents', and in her own. It was said she had the longest hair,
the largest eyes, the slimmest waist, the smallest foot, and the
most lovely complexion of any young lady in the Paflagonian
dominions. Her accomplishments were announced to be even
superior to her beauty; and governesses used to shame their idle
pupils by telling them what Princess Angelica could do. She
could play the most difficult pieces of music at sight. She
could answer any one of Mangnall's Questions. She knew every
date in the history of Paflagonia, and every other country. She
knew French, English, Italian, German, Spanish, Hebrew, Greek,
Latin, Cappadocian, Samothracian, Aegean, and Crim Tartar. In a
word, she was a most accomplished young creature; and her
Would you not fancy, from this picture, that Gruffanuff must have
been a person of highest birth? She looks so haughty that I
should have thought her a princess at the very least, with a
pedigree reaching as far back as the Deluge. But this lady was
no better born than many other ladies who give themselves airs;
and all sensible people laughed at her absurd pretensions. The
fact is, she had been maid-servant to the Queen when Her Majesty
was only Princess, and her husband had been head footman; but
after his death or DISAPPEARANCE, of which you shall hear
presently, this Mrs. Gruffanuff, by flattering, toadying, and
wheedling her royal mistress, became a favourite with the Queen
(who was rather a weak woman), and Her Majesty gave her a title,
and made her nursery governess to the Princess.
And now I must tell you about the Princess's learning and
accomplishments, for which she had such a wonderful character.
Clever Angelica certainly was, but as IDLE as POSSIBLE. Play at
sight, indeed! she could play one or two pieces, and pretend that
she had never seen them before; she could answer half a dozen
Mangnall's Questions; but then you must take care to ask the
RIGHT ones. As for her languages, she had masters in plenty, but
I doubt whether she knew more than a few phrases in each, for all
her presence; and as for her embroidery and her drawing, she
showed beautiful specimens, it is true, but WHO DID THEM?
This obliges me to tell the truth, and to do so I must go back
ever so far, and tell you about the FAIRY BLACKSTICK.
III. TELLS WHO THE FAIRY BLACKSTICK WAS, AND WHO WERE EVER SO
MANY GRAND PERSONAGES BESIDES
Between the kingdoms of Paflagonia and Crim Tartary, there lived
a mysterious personage, who was known in those countries as the
Fairy Blackstick, from the ebony wand or crutch which she
carried; on which she rode to the moon sometimes, or upon other
excursions of business or pleasure, and with which she performed
her wonders.
When she was young, and had been first taught the art of
conjuring by the necromancer, her father, she was always
practicing her skill, whizzing about from one kingdom to another
upon her black stick, and conferring her fairy favours upon this
Prince or that. She had scores of royal godchildren; turned
numberless wicked people into beasts, birds, millstones, clocks,
pumps, boot jacks, umbrellas, or other absurd shapes; and, in a
word, was one of the most active and officious of the whole
College of fairies.
But after two or three thousand years of this sport, I suppose
Blackstick grew tired of it. Or perhaps she thought, 'What good
am I doing by sending this Princess to sleep for a hundred years?
by fixing a black pudding on to that booby's nose? by causing
diamonds and pearls to drop from one little girl's mouth, and
vipers and toads from another's? I begin to think I do as much
harm as good by my performances. I might as well shut my
incantations up, and allow things to take their natural course.
'There were my two young goddaughters, King Savio's wife, and
Duke Padella's wife, I gave them each a present, which was to
render them charming in the eyes of their husbands, and secure
the affection of those gentlemen as long as they lived. What
good did my Rose and my Ring do these two women? None on earth.
From having all their whims indulged by their husbands, they
became capricious, lazy, ill-humoured, absurdly vain, and leered
and languished, and fancied themselves irresistibly beautiful,
when they were really quite old and hideous, the ridiculous
creatures! They used actually to patronise me when I went to pay
them a visit--ME, the Fairy Blackstick, who knows all the wisdom
of the necromancers, and could have turned them into baboons, and
all their diamonds into strings of onions, by a single wave of my
rod!' So she locked up her books in her cupboard, declined
further magical performances, and scarcely used her wand at all
except as a cane to walk about with.
So when Duke Padella's lady had a little son (the Duke was at
