She began to lament: "Ah, poor papa--you're dead now, and there's nobody to save me from this diabolical Daucus!" But Herr Dapsul opened his eyes, sprang up from the dish with renewed energy, and cried in a terrible voice, such as she had never heard him make use of before, "Ah accursed Daucus Carota, I am not at the end of my resources yet. You shall soon see what the meddling old goose of a Cabalist can do."
Aennchen had to set to work and clean him with the kitchen besom from all the chopped egg, the mace, and the grated breadcrumbs; and then he seized a copper pot, crammed it on his head by way of a helmet, took a frying-pan in his left hand, and a long iron kitchen ladle in his right, and thus armed and accoutred, he darted out into the open. Fräulein Aennchen saw him running as hard as he could towards Cordovanspitz's marquee, and yet never moving from the same spot. At this her senses left her.
When she came to herself, Herr Dapsul had disappeared, and she got terribly anxious when evening came, and night, and even the next morning, without his making his appearance. She could not but dread the very worst.
CHAPTER VI.
WHICH IS THE LAST--AND, AT THE SAME TIME, THE MOST EDIFYING OF ALL.
Fräulein Aennchen was sitting in her room in the deepest sorrow, when the door opened, and who should come in but Herr Amandus von Nebelstern. All shame and contrition, she shed a flood of tears, and in the most weeping accents addressed him as follows: "Oh, my darling Amandus, pray forgive what I wrote to you in my blinded state! I was bewitched, and I am so still, no doubt. I am yellow, and I'm hideous, may God pity me! But my heart is true to you, and I am not going to marry any king at all."
"My dear girl," said Amandus, "I really don't see what you have to complain of. I consider you one of the luckiest women in the world."
"Oh, don't mock at me," she cried. "I am punished severely enough for my absurd vanity in wishing to be a Queen."
"Really and truly, my dear girl," said Amandus, "I can't make you out one bit. To tell you the real truth, your last letter drove me stark, staring mad. I first thrashed my servant-boy, then my poodle, smashed several glasses--and you know a student who's breathing out threatenings and slaughter in that sort of way isn't to be trifled with. But when I got a little calmer I made up my mind to come on here as quickly as I could, and see with my own eyes how, why, and to whom I had lost my intended bride. Love makes no distinction of class or station, and I made up my mind that I would make this King Daucus Carota give a proper account of himself, and ask him if this tale about his marrying you was mere brag, or if he really meant it--but everything here is different to what I expected. As I was passing near the grand marquee that is put up yonder, King Daucus Carota came out of it, and I soon found that I had before me the most charming prince I ever saw--at the same time he happens to be the first I ever did see; but that's nothing. For, just fancy, my dear girl, he immediately detected the sublime poet in me, praised my poems (which he has never read) above measure, and offered to appoint me Poet Laureate in his service. Now a position of that sort has long been the fairest goal of my warmest wishes, so that I accepted his offer with a thousandfold delight. Oh, my dear girl, with what an enthusiasm of inspiration will I chant your praises! A poet can love queens and princesses: or rather, it is really a part of his simple duty to choose a person of that exalted station to be the lady of his heart. And if he does get rather cracky in the head on the subject, that circumstance of itself gives rise to that celestial delirium without which no poetry is possible, and no one ought to feel any surprise at a poet's perhaps somewhat extravagant proceedings. Remember the great Tasso, who must have had a considerable bee in his bonnet when in love with the Princess Leonore d'Este. Yes, my dear girl, as you are going to be a queen so soon, you will always be the lady of my heart, and I will extol you to the stars in the sublimest and most celestial verses."
"What, you have seen him, the wicked Cobold?" Fräulein Aennchen broke out in the deepest amazement. "And he has----"