Page:The Complete Works of William Makepeace Thackeray Vol.20.pdf/267

Rh At this the King said, “Serves him right, the rebellious ruffian! And now, as those lions won’t eat that young woman—”

“Let her off!—let her off!” cried the crowd.

“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!”

“A-a-ah!” cried the crowd. “Shame! shame!”

“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!” 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 farther end of the circus; the Knight in full armor, with his vizor up, and bearing a letter on the point of his lance.

“Ha!” exclaimed the King, “by my fay, ’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?”

“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.”

“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!”

Reining up his charger in a most elegant manner close under the King’s balcony, Hedzoff turned to the Herald, and bade him begin.

Elephant and Castle, dropping his trumpet over his shoulder, took a large sheet off paper out of his hat, and began to read:—

“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—”

“Ha!” growled Padella.