CHAPTER X.
Did Prince Dolor become a great king? Was he, though little more thana boy, "the father of his people," as all kings ought to be? Did hisreign last long--long and happy?--and what were the principal events ofit, as chronicled in the history of Nomansland?
Why, if I were to answer all these questions, I should have to writeanother book. And I'm tired, children, tired--as grown-up peoplesometimes are; though not always with play. (Besides, I have a smallperson belonging to me, who, though she likes extremely to listen tothe word-of-mouth story of this book, grumbles much at the writing ofit, and has run about the house clapping her hands with joy when mammatold her that it was nearly finished. But that is neither here northere.)
I have related, as well as I could, the history of Prince Dolor, butwith the history of Nomansland I am as yet unacquainted. If anybodyknows it, perhaps he or she will kindly write it all down in anotherbook. But mine is done.
However, of this I am sure, that Prince Dolor made an excellent king.Nobody ever does anything less well, not even the commonest duty ofcommon daily life, for having such a godmother as the little old womanclothed in grey, whose name is--well, I leave you to guess. Nor, Ithink, is anybody less good, less capable of both work and enjoymentin after life, for having been a little unhappy in his youth, as thePrince had been.
I cannot take upon myself to say that he was always happy now--whois?--or that he had no cares; just show me the person who is quite freefrom them! But, whenever people worried and bothered him--as they didsometimes, with state etiquette, state squabbles, and the like, settingup themselves and pulling down their neighbours--he would take refugein that upper room which looked out on the Beautiful Mountains and,laying his head on his godmother's shoulder, become calmed and at rest.
Also, she helped him out of any difficulty which now and thenoccurred--for there never was such a wise old woman. When the people ofNomansland raised the alarm--as sometimes they did--for what people canexist without a little fault-finding?--and began to cry out, "Unhappyis the nation whose king is a child," she would say to him gently,"You are a child. Accept the fact. Be humble--be teachable. Lean uponthe wisdom of others till you have gained your own."
He did so. He learned how to take advice before attempting to give it,to obey before he could righteously command. He assembled round him allthe good and wise of his kingdom--laid all its affairs before them, andwas guided by their opinions until he had maturely formed his own.
This he did, sooner than anybody would have imagined, who did notknow of his godmother and his travelling-cloak--two secret blessings,which, though many guessed at, nobody quite understood. Nor did theyunderstand why he loved so the little upper room, except that it hadbeen his mother's room, from the window of which, as people rememberednow, she had used to sit for hours watching the Beautiful Mountains.
Out of that window he used to fly--not very often; as he grewolder, the labours of state prevented the frequent use of histravelling-cloak; still he did use it sometimes. Only now it wasless for his own pleasure and amusement than to see something, orinvestigate something, for the good of the country. But he prized hisgodmother's gift as dearly as ever. It was a comfort to him in all hisvexations; an enhancement of all his joys. It made him almost forgethis lameness--which was never cured.
However, the cruel things which had been once foreboded of him did nothappen. His misfortune was not such a heavy one after all. It provedto be much less inconvenience, even to himself, than had been feared.A council of eminent surgeons and mechanicians invented for him awonderful pair of crutches, with the help of which, though he neverwalked easily or gracefully, he did manage to walk, so as to be quiteindependent. And such was the love his people bore him that they neverheard the sound of his crutch on the marble palace-floors without aleap of the heart, for they knew that good was coming to them wheneverhe approached them.
Thus, though he never walked in processions, never reviewed his troopsmounted on a magnificent charger, nor did any of the things which makea show monarch so much appreciated, he was able for all the duties anda great many of the pleasures of his rank. When he held his levees,not standing, but seated on a throne, ingeniously contrived to hidehis infirmity, the people thronged to greet him; when he drove outthrough the city streets, shouts followed him wherever he went--everycountenance brightened as he passed, and his own, perhaps, was thebrightest of all.
"_When he drove out through the city streets, shoutsfollowed him wherever he went._" _Page 116._]
First, because, accepting his affliction as inevitable, he took itpatiently; second, because, being a brave man, he bore it bravely;trying to forget himself, and live out of himself, and in and for otherpeople. Therefore other people grew to love him so well, that I thinkhundreds of his subjects might have been found who were almost ready todie for their poor lame King.
He never gave them a queen. When they implored him to choose one, hereplied that his country was his bride, and he desired no other. But,perhaps, the real reason was that he shrank from any change; and thatno wife in all the world would have been found so perfect, so lovable,so tender to him in all his weaknesses, as his beautiful old godmother.
His four-and-twenty other godfathers and godmothers, or as many ofthem as were still alive, crowded round him as soon as he ascended thethrone. He was very civil to them all, but adopted none of the namesthey had given him, keeping to the one by which he had been alwaysknown, though it had now almost lost its meaning; for King Dolor wasone of the happiest and cheerfullest men alive.
He did a good many things, however, unlike most men and most kings,which a little astonished his subjects. First, he pardoned thecondemned woman who had been his nurse, and ordained that fromhenceforward there should be no such thing as the punishment of deathin Nomansland. All capital criminals were to be sent to perpetualimprisonment in Hopeless Tower, and the plain round about it, wherethey could do no harm to anybody, and might in time do a little good,as the woman had done.
Another surprise he shortly afterwards gave the nation. He recalled hisuncle's family, who had fled away in terror to another country, andrestored them to all their honours in their own. By-and-by he chosethe eldest son of his eldest cousin (who had been dead a year), andhad him educated in the royal palace, as the heir to the throne. Thislittle prince was a quiet, unobtrusive boy, so that everybody wonderedat the King's choosing him, when there were so many more; but as hegrew into a fine young fellow, good and brave, they agreed that theKing judged more wisely than they.
"Not a lame prince neither," his Majesty observed one day, watchinghim affectionately; for he was the best runner, the highest leaper,the keenest and most active sportsman in the country. "One cannot makeoneself, but one can sometimes help a little in the making of somebodyelse. It is well."
This was said, not to any of his great lords and ladies, but to a goodold woman--his first homely nurse--whom he had sought for far andwide, and at last found, in her cottage among the Beautiful Mountains.He sent for her to visit him once a year, and treated her with greathonour until she died. He was equally kind, though somewhat lesstender, to his other nurse, who, after receiving her pardon, returnedto her native town and grew into a great lady, and I hope a good one.But as she was so grand a personage now, any little faults she had didnot show.
"_But as she was so grand a personage now, any littlefaults she had did not show._" _Page 118.
Thus King Dolor's reign passed, year after year, long and prosperous.Whether he was happy--"as happy as a king"--is a question no humanbeing can decide. But I think he was, because he had the power ofmaking everybody about him happy, and did it too; also because he washis godmother's godson, and could shut himself up with her whenever heliked, in that quiet little room, in view of the Beautiful Mountains,which nobody else ever saw or cared to see. They were too far off,and the city lay so low. But there they were, all the time. No changeever came to them; and I think, at any day throughout his long reig
n,the King would sooner have lost his crown than have lost sight of theBeautiful Mountains.
In course of time, when the little prince, his cousin, was grown intoa tall young man, capable of all the duties of a man, his Majesty didone of the most extraordinary acts ever known in a sovereign beloved byhis people and prosperous in his reign. He announced that he wished toinvest his heir with the royal purple--at any rate, for a time--whilehe himself went away on a distant journey, whither he had long desiredto go.
Everybody marvelled, but nobody opposed him. Who could oppose thegood King, who was not a young king now? And, besides, the nation hada great admiration for the young Regent--and, possibly, a lurkingpleasure in change.
So there was fixed a day, when all the people whom it would hold,assembled in the great square of the capital, to see the young Princeinstalled solemnly in his new duties, and undertaking his new vows.He was a very fine young fellow; tall and straight as a poplar tree,with a frank handsome face--a great deal handsomer than the King, somepeople said, but others thought differently. However, as his Majestysat on his throne, with his grey hair falling from underneath hiscrown, and a few wrinkles showing in spite of his smile, there wassomething about his countenance which made his people, even while theyshouted, regard him with a tenderness mixed with awe.
"_All the people ... assembled to see the young Princeinstalled solemnly in his new duties and undertaking his new vows._"_Page 119._]
He lifted up his thin, slender hand, and there came a silence over thevast crowd immediately. Then he spoke, in his own accustomed way, usingno grand words, but saying what he had to say in the simplest fashion,though with a clearness that struck their ears like the first song of abird in the dusk of the morning.
"My people, I am tired: I want to rest. I have had a long reign, anddone much work--at least, as much as I was able to do. Many might havedone it better than I--but none with a better will. Now I leave it toothers. I am tired, very tired. Let me go home."
There rose a murmur--of content or discontent none could well tell;then it died down again, and the assembly listened silently once more.
"I am not anxious about you--my people--my children," continued theking. "You are prosperous and at peace. I leave you in good hands. ThePrince Regent will be a fitter king for you than I."
"No, no, no!" rose the universal shout--and those who had sometimesfound fault with him shouted louder than anybody. But he seemed as ifhe heard them not.
"Yes, yes," said he, as soon as the tumult had a little subsided; andhis voice sounded firm and clear; and some very old people, who boastedof having seen him as a child, declared that his face took a suddenchange, and grew as young and sweet as that of the little Prince Dolor."Yes, I must go. It is time for me to go. Remember me sometimes, mypeople, for I have loved you well. And I am going a long way, and I donot think I shall come back any more."
He drew a little bundle out of his breast pocket--a bundle that nobodyhad ever seen before. It was small and shabby-looking, and tied upwith many knots, which untied themselves in an instant. With a joyfulcountenance, he muttered over it a few half-intelligible words. Then,so suddenly that even those nearest to his Majesty could not tellhow it came about, the King was away--away--floating right up in theair--upon something, they knew not what, except that it appeared to beas safe and pleasant as the wings of a bird.
And after him sprang a bird--a dear little lark, rising from whenceno one could say, since larks do not usually build their nests in thepavement of city squares. But there it was, a real lark, singing farover their heads, louder and clearer, and more joyful, as it vanishedfurther into the blue sky.
Shading their eyes, and straining their ears, the astonished peoplestood, until the whole vision disappeared like a speck in theclouds--the rosy clouds that overhung the Beautiful Mountains.
Then they guessed that they should see their beloved king no more.Well-beloved as he was, he had always been somewhat of a mystery tothem, and such he remained. But they went home, and, accepting theirnew monarch, obeyed him faithfully for his cousin's sake.
King Dolor was never again beheld or heard of in his own country. Butthe good he had done there lasted for years and years; he was longmissed and deeply mourned--at least, so far as anybody could mourn onewho was gone on such a happy journey.
Whither he went, or who went with him, it is impossible to say. But Imyself believe that his godmother took him, on his travelling-cloak, tothe Beautiful Mountains. What he did there, or where he is now, who cantell? I cannot. But one thing I am quite sure of, that, wherever he is,he is perfectly happy.
And so, when I think of him, am I.
THE END.