Just moss-roses! The soil in this region happens to be peculiarly favourable to their growth!
The Prince.
And the Princess herself, the heart and soul and living embodiment of a moss-rose?
Mentor.
My dear lad, all youths of the princely temperament are like you! All want to turn the cold hard facts of science into romance, with a beautiful maid at the root of a beautiful mystery! To let you into a family confidence, it originated with my great-aunt! Oh, she was not beautiful; she was practical and punctual, like me! In order to be always in the right and put her husband always in the wrong she used to turn the hands of the clock to whatever hour she thought would be for his best good! It was one of those large, old-fashioned clocks, you know! And one night, while inside the case, she got caught in the works, and for eight days went up and down, clinging to the weights, ticking off the seconds, striking the hours, before she was rescued by the little Swiss man who came periodically to wind and regulate the household time-pieces! My great-uncle-by-marriage, though at the time distracted with anxiety, has since been heard to say that those were the happiest because the most unpunctual hours of his life! Since which time it has passed into a proverb when anything is wrong with the works of anything to look for a woman in the case!
The Prince.
What you say no doubt is true, and yet—
Mentor.
And yet, like all young fools you won’t believe me till you yourself have proved it! In spite of all these warnings, in the shape of fragments of Kings’ Sons who have lost their lives in the attempt! If these poor witnesses could speak, which, think you, would say, go forward, Prince Charming? Persevere unto the end!
The Prince.