It was all just as the princess had said.
The king was walking in the garden, with his courtiers and ministers about him. Beppo came to him, and the king, as he always did, laid his hand upon Beppo’s shoulder and whispered in his ear: “A word, a word, only a few words; if they be spoken ill, they are ill; if they be spoken well, they are more precious than gold and jewels.”
While the king was saying these words to Beppo, Beppo was looking fixedly at the prime-minister. While he did so he shook his head three times. Then he bowed low and walked away.
He had not gone twenty paces before some one tapped him upon the arm; it was the prime-minister. Beppo gazed fixedly at him. “Alas, my poor friend!” said he.
The prime-minister turned pale. “It was, then, as I thought,” said he. “The king spoke about me. Will you not tell me what he said?”
Beppo shook his head. “Alas, my poor friend!” said he, and then he walked on.
The prime-minister still followed him.
“My lord,” said he, “I have been aware that his majesty has not been the same to me for more than a week past. If it was about the princess, pray tell his majesty that I meant nothing ill when I spoke of her to him.”
Beppo shook his head. “Alas, my poor friend!” he said.
The prime-minister’s lips trembled. “My lord,” said he, “I have always had the kindest regard for you, and if there is anything in my power that I can do for you I hope you will command me. I know how much you are in his majesty’s confidence. Will you not speak a few words to set the matter straight?”