"You must come again," said the Queen, "when your bear is better trained," and, turning to Signor Borea (her chamberlain), told him to give the man some money and direct him to the forester's lodge, where some food should be given to him.
The young Italian's face beamed with joy when he beheld the vast sum (twenty lire) he had received, and led his disobedient companion away in disgrace; but the bear, quite unconscious of being in disgrace, turned his head for a last friendly glance, walked on his hind legs in his clumsy and swaggering manner, but with a certain dignity, down the avenue.
The King, who was with us on the terrace, had been a silent witness of the whole scene, and, not being able to resist the promptings of his kind heart, followed the couple. We saw him put a gold piece in the brown palm of the poor fellow, whose "only friend" had failed him on this unique occasion. He seemed quite overcome by this Danaë-like shower of gold, and hesitated before taking the piece, thinking, perhaps, that on this occasion honesty might be the best policy, and said:
"The Queen has already given me much."
"That does not matter," said the King. "You must take what I give you. Do you know who I am?"
"No, signor. Are you Garibaldi?"
The King laughed. "No, I am not Garibaldi; I am the King."
This second surprise was too much for the little man, and he almost fell down in his emotion.
What his dreams were that night must have been like one of the Arabian Nights.
REGGIO, October 17th.