All this, however, Witikind submitted to as a matter of course. He had been already taught to give up his own wishes and inclinations cheerfully; and his father had inculcated upon him twenty times that he never was to allow himself to think of anything save how he could best please the heir-apparent. He felt it was his business to yield his own inclinations to the Prince’s, and he invariably did yield them amiably, and as, consequently, the little Eigenwillig continued to have his own way, there could be no open rupture. It is impossible to have a quarrel, when there is nobody to quarrel with.
However, it cannot be said that at the end of a week Witikind thought his royal companion so full of good nature as he had expected, and at the end of a fortnight Witikind had begun to compare the ways of Ediltrudis and Veronica, with those of the Prince, and certainly the result of the comparison was not in his royal highness’s favour. On the other hand, the Prince had made the discovery that with his nurse and instructresses, the gentle-tempered son of Countess Ermengarde was rapidly becoming a much greater favourite than he was himself.
This made him very jealous; and his jealousy became insupportable when Witikind was held out as a model for his imitation. “What a sweet little boy is Count Rudolf’s son;” nurse Yellowlily would exclaim. “He always does what he is bid the moment he is spoken to: so unlike some people!”
“Yes;” the lady Brigida would add, “and so quick at his lessons; never stupid, never idle, never impatient. Such a contrast, you know!”
“Every body loves little Witikind,” rejoined the nurse again, “he is so civil-spoken, and gives so little trouble, and isn’t proud, nor quarrelsome, nor selfish, nor finds pleasure in teasing and plaguing people.”
Thus these silly women took the surest means to prevent the prince from benefiting by the example of his companion.
Under such circumstances Witikind grew more and more unhappy every day. Let him do what he would, the Prince was always disposed to quarrel with him: and the more he gave up his own will to the Prince’s, the more he strove to oblige him, the more the Prince seemed to dislike him for it, for a contrast was sure to be drawn by the attendants between Witikind’s good nature, and the unamiable disposition of his companion.
At length Witikind gave up the attempt to please, and would go and hide himself in some corner where nobody was likely to find him, or would sit moping on a bench in the palace gardens, thinking of Ediltrudis and Veronica, and contrasting their affection with the Prince’s ill nature.
Now it so happened, that the seat to which Witikind was so fond of betaking himself was one which King Katzekopf could see out of his window as he sat in his arm chair. Witikind did not know this, or he would never have chosen it. He was thinking of watching the gold fish in the fountain, not of King Katzekopf, when he first made it his favourite haunt.
“I wonder why that boy sits on yonder bench all day,” observed the King, one fine afternoon. “I wonder why I never see him playing with Eigenwillig.” But nobody made any answer in reply to his Majesty’s observation, and so the matter passed from his thoughts. But when another day, and another, and another, and another, had elapsed, and Witikind was still seen on his favourite bench, the King’s curiosity was quite roused, and he sent for the boy. Witikind was very much frightened when he heard that the King wanted him; but he could not help hoping that, since the Prince disliked him so much, he was going to be sent home again.