"Vile wench! you and your father shall suffer for this! You shall, by all that a Pigmy holds dear I swear it. The fate of Binks and Chinks shall be paradise to your lot, you wretched scum of the earth. Ho! guard, seize these traitors at once, and have the lowest and darkest dungeon made ready for them without delay!"
A groan burst from the lips of the unfortunate Pigspud as the royal lips pronounced these words, for in them he naturally saw the realisation of his worst fears. But before one of the guards could move hand or foot, the fair Ophelia, with the same smile continuously upon her lips, took a step or two forward, and, holding out in her hand the little jar of which we know—but of the existence of which everyone present was profoundly ignorant, said in a remarkably calm and clear voice—
"Pray listen: King Famcram, determined I am
To ask you to taste of my raspberry jam!"
Scarcely were the words out of her mouth when a perceptible change came over the face, voice, and manner of Famcram. The first turned ghastly white; the second sank to a low whisper; and the third lost all its violence, and became as quiet as the manner of a sheep when in the hands of its executioner.
One shiver passed over the king's frame, as if there was a strong internal struggle; but it was over in a moment. Murmuring something so indistinctly that no one was quite sure what he said, but apparently something about "not liking to refuse a lady," he shuffled forward to meet Ophelia, whilst the crowd around was plunged in the deepest amazement at his strange and altered conduct.
The maiden, as he approached, took a small silver salt-spoon from the table near her, scooped out of her jar a good spoonful of the jam, and held it to Famcram's mouth. He meekly received the spoon therein, and devoured the jam without a word, good, bad, or indifferent. The next moment he grovelled—literally grovelled—at Ophelia's feet, covering them with kisses, and vowing that he was her slave for life.
The people could hardly believe their eyes, and looked at each other as if they felt that they must all be in a dream, or suffering from some optical delusion, and that it could not be a reality which was passing before them. But Ophelia took it all quite as a matter of course.
She ordered Famcram, in haughty tones, to kneel on all fours, and as soon as he had done so, she sat down upon him with the greatest calmness.
Wonder upon wonders! The tyrant, who had shown every disposition to treat his people like miserable slaves, seemed now to be reduced to more abject slavery than the meanest of his vassals.