CHAPTER VIII.
What, I wonder, would be most people's idea of a king?
What was Prince Dolor's?
Perhaps a very splendid personage, with a crown on his head, and asceptre in his hand, sitting on a throne, and judging the people.Always doing right, and never wrong--"The king can do no wrong" wasa law laid down in olden times. Never cross, or tired, or sick, orsuffering; perfectly handsome and well-dressed, calm and good-tempered,ready to see and hear everybody, and discourteous to nobody; all thingsalways going well with him, and nothing unpleasant ever happening.
This, probably, was what Prince Dolor expected to see. And what did hesee? But I must tell you how he saw it.
"Ah," said the magpie, "no levee to-day. The King is ill, though hisMajesty does not wish it to be generally known--it would be so veryinconvenient. He can't see you, but perhaps you might like to go andtake a look at him, in a way I often do? It is so very amusing."
Amusing, indeed!
The Prince was just now too much excited to talk much. Was he not goingto see the King his uncle, who had succeeded his father, and dethronedhimself; had stepped into all the pleasant things that he, PrinceDolor, ought to have had, and shut him up in a desolate tower? Whatwas he like, this great, bad, clever man? Had he got all the things hewanted, which another ought to have had? And did he enjoy them?
"Nobody knows," answered the magpie, just as if she had been sittinginside the Prince's heart, instead of on the top of his shoulder. "Heis a king, and that's enough. For the rest nobody knows."
As she spoke Mag flew down on to the palace roof, where the cloakhad rested, settling down between the great stacks of chimneys ascomfortably as if on the ground. She pecked at the tiles with herbeak--truly she was a wonderful bird--and immediately a little holeopened, a sort of door, through which could be seen distinctly thechamber below.
"_She pecked at the tiles with her beak ... a littlehole opened ... 'Now look in, Prince. Make haste, for I must soon shutit up again.'_" _Page 92._]
"Now look in, my prince. Make haste, for I must soon shut it up again."
But the boy hesitated. "Isn't it rude?--won't they think us--intruding?"
"O dear no! there's a hole like this in every palace; dozens of holes,indeed. Everybody knows it, but nobody speaks of it. Intrusion! Why,though the Royal family are supposed to live shut up behind stonewalls ever so thick, all the world knows that they live in a glasshouse where everybody can see them, and throw a stone at them. Now, popdown on your knees, and take a peep at his Majesty."
His Majesty!
The Prince gazed eagerly down, into a large room, the largest room hehad ever beheld, with furniture and hangings grander than anything hecould have ever imagined. A stray sunbeam, coming through a creviceof the darkened windows, struck across the carpet, and it was theloveliest carpet ever woven--just like a bed of flowers to walk over;only nobody walked over it; the room being perfectly empty and silent.
"Where is the King?" asked the puzzled boy.
"There," said Mag, pointing with one wrinkled claw to a magnificentbed, large enough to contain six people. In the centre of it, justvisible under the silken counterpane--quite straight and still--withits head on the lace pillow--lay a small figure, something likewaxwork, fast asleep--very fast asleep! There were a quantity ofsparkling rings on the tiny yellow hands, that were curled a little,helplessly, like a baby's, outside the coverlet; the eyes were shut,the nose looked sharp and thin, and the long grey beard hid the mouth,and lay over the breast. A sight not ugly, nor frightening, only solemnand quiet. And so very silent--two little flies buzzing about thecurtains of the bed, being the only audible sound.
"Is that the King?" whispered Prince Dolor.
"Yes," replied the bird.
He had been angry--furiously angry; ever since he knew how his unclehad taken the crown, and sent him, a poor little helpless child, to beshut up for life, just as if he had been dead. Many times the boy hadfelt as if, king as he was, he should like to strike him, this great,strong, wicked man.
Why, you might as well have struck a baby! How helpless he lay! withhis eyes shut, and his idle hands folded: they had no more work to do,bad or good.
"What is the matter with him?" asked the Prince again.
"He is dead," said the Magpie with a croak.
No, there was not the least use in being angry with him now. On thecontrary, the Prince felt almost sorry for him, except that he lookedso peaceful, with all his cares at rest. And this was being dead? So,even kings died?
"Well, well, he hadn't an easy life, folk say, for all his grandeur.Perhaps he is glad it is over. Good-bye, your Majesty."
With another cheerful tap of her beak, Mistress Mag shut down thelittle door in the tiles, and Prince Dolor's first and last sight ofhis uncle was ended.
He sat in the centre of his travelling-cloak silent and thoughtful.
"What shall we do now?" said the Magpie. "There's nothing muchmore to be done with his Majesty, except a fine funeral, which Ishall certainly go and see. All the world will. He interested theworld exceedingly when he was alive, and he ought to do it now he'sdead--just once more. And since he can't hear me, I may as well saythat, on the whole, his Majesty is much better dead than alive--ifwe can only get somebody in his place. There'll be such a row in thecity presently. Suppose we float up again, and see it all. At a safedistance, though. It will be such fun."
"What will be fun?"
"A revolution."
Whether anybody except a magpie would have called it "fun," I don'tknow, but it certainly was a remarkable scene.
As soon as the Cathedral bell began to toll, and the minute guns tofire, announcing to the kingdom that it was without a king, the peoplegathered in crowds, stopping at street corners to talk together. Themurmur now and then rose into a shout, and the shout into a roar. WhenPrince Dolor, quietly floating in upper air, caught the sound of theirdifferent and opposite cries, it seemed to him as if the whole city hadgone mad together.
"Long live the King!" "The King is dead--down with the King!" "Downwith the crown, and the King too!" "Hurrah for the Republic!" "Hurrahfor no Government at all."
Such were the shouts which travelled up to the travelling-cloak. Andthen began--oh, what a scene!
When you children are grown men and women--or before--you will hear andread in books about what are called revolutions--earnestly I trust thatneither I nor you may ever see one. But they have happened, and mayhappen again, in other countries beside Nomansland, when wicked kingshave helped to make their people wicked too, or out of an unrighteousnation have sprung rulers equally bad; or, without either of thesecauses, when a restless country has fancied any change better than nochange at all.
For me, I don't like changes, unless pretty sure that they are forgood. And how good can come out of absolute evil--the horrible evilthat went on this night under Prince Dolor's very eyes--soldiersshooting people down by hundreds in the streets, scaffolds erected, andheads dropping off--houses burnt, and women and children murdered--thisis more than I can understand.
But all these things you will find in history, my children, and mustby-and-by judge for yourselves the right and wrong of them, as far asanybody ever can judge.
Prince Dolor saw it all. Things happened so fast after one another thatthey quite confused his faculties.
"Oh, let me go home," he cried at last, stopping his ears and shuttinghis eyes; "only let me go home!" for even his lonely tower seemed home,and its dreariness and silence absolute paradise after all this.
"Good-bye, then," said the magpie, flapping her wings. She had beenchatting incessantly all day and all night, for it was actually thuslong that Prince Dolor had been hovering over the city, neither eatingnor sleeping, with all these terrible things happening under his veryeyes. "You've had enough, I suppose, of seeing the world?"
"Oh, I have--I have!" cried the Prince with a shudder.
"That is, till next time. All right, your Roy
al Highness. You don'tknow me, but I know you. We may meet again sometime."
She looked at him with her clear piercing eyes, sharp enough to seethrough everything, and it seemed as if they changed from bird's eyesto human eyes, the very eyes of his godmother, whom he had not seen forever so long. But the minute afterwards she became only a bird, andwith a screech and a chatter spread her wings and flew away.
Prince Dolor fell into a kind of swoon, of utter misery, bewilderment,and exhaustion, and when he awoke he found himself in his ownroom--alone and quiet--with the dawn just breaking, and the long rim ofyellow light in the horizon glimmering through the window panes.