XIPETERKIN TELLS HIS TALE
SO Peterkin went to bed in fine fashion. His couch was of cushioned velvet and his pillows of down and silk. Over his head were hangings of lustrous satin, with ostrich plumes and gilded crowns by way of ornament. And when he woke in the morning, several slaves were kneeling at the bedside, ready to bathe him and dress him and to do his slightest bidding.
“Ahem!” thought Peterkin. “I must admit that, after all, this is a better sort of thing than living in a pumpkin.”
Just as soon as he was dressed in a princely robe of purple linen with gold clasps and jeweled collar, his slaves ledPeterkin along a silvered hallway, where marble pillars gleamed with wreaths of precious stones, to a hall of gold. Here were a golden table and a host of golden chairs—and behind each chair stood, waiting in respect, some member of the royal court in brilliant costume. No sooner had Peterkin stepped over the marble threshold than they set up a loud, wild cheering and waved their silken napkins to bid him welcome.
He took his seat at their head, in a chair which stood upon a golden dais. Before him, in a glowing line, were platters of fruit, red-cheeked and orange and purple. The smell of fragrant dishes steaming came to his nostrils and sharpened his appetite. He seized a golden fork and reached toward a pyramid of hot, brown muffins ... but oh, no! He was not to eat for a little while.
For, just at this moment, who should enter the dining hall but the little princess and the King himself! The King was in his robes of state: ermine and velvet and cloth of gold. As for the princess, she had given up her nightie for a gown of dainty blue on which a field of slender lilies was embroidered in pale silk. Her golden hair was in a braid now, with fluttering ribbons woven, like veins, amidst it. Peterkin’s fork clattered down to the table at his first sight of her: he had no thought of food from then on.
There was a great bending of knees and bowing of heads of the courtiers and another round of cheers and fluttered napkins as His Majesty and his fair daughter entered. But where do you think they sat? Why, one of them at the right hand of Peterkin and the other at his left.
There was silence for many moments, during which the little princess lowered her blue eyes and pretended not to see that Peterkin, in the manner of all lovers, was staringeagerly at the rose of her cheeks and the bow of her little red lips. Oh, no! the princess saw nothing—but she was blushing, just the same.
“Hold!” said the King at length as he juggled a biscuit thoughtfully upon the end of his diamond-studded scepter. “We shall eat no morsel or a mouthful until we have heard your story, good stranger. So tell us it now. If it pleases us, you shall dwell in our midst, in all the pomp and comfort you have had this morning—and whatever you ask, for your happiness shall be ours.” His Majesty shot a knowing smile at his lovely daughter. “But if your tale fails to please us, if it tells of cowardice instead of bravery, of weakness instead of strength—why, then, good stranger, you shall be driven out of our palace, out of the Four Kingdoms, with a tattered coat and an empty stomach—an exile in disgrace. So, hem your throat and purse your lips and make a good beginning of your tale.”
“‘Take him away!’ ordered the King”
“‘Take him away!’ ordered the King”
“‘Take him away!’ ordered the King”