“I never saw any one so handsome,” says Countess Gruffanuff (the old humbug).
“That,” said the painter, “that, madam, is the portrait of my august young master, His Royal Highness Bulbo, Crown Prince of Crim Tartary, Duke of Acroceraunia, Marquis of Poluphloisboio, and Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Pumpkin. That is the Order of the Pumpkin glittering on his manly breast, and received by His Royal Highness from his august father, His Majesty King Padella I., for his gallantry at the battle of Rimbombamento, when he slew with his own princely hand the King of Ograria and two hundred and eleven giants of the two hundred and eighteen who formed the King’s bodyguard. The remainder were destroyed by the brave Crim Tartar army after an obstinate combat, in which the Crim Tartars suffered severely.”
What a Prince! thought Angelica: so brave—so calm-looking—so young—what a hero!
“He is as accomplished as he is brave,” continued the Court Painter. “He knows all languages perfectly: sings deliciously: plays every instrument: composes operas which have been acted a thousand nights running at the Imperial Theatre of Crim Tartary, and danced in a ballet there before the King and Queen; in which he looked so beautiful, that his cousin, the lovely daughter of the King of Circassia, died for love of him.”
“Why did he not marry the poor Princess?” asked Angelica, with a sigh.
“Because they were first cousins, madam, and the clergy forbid these unions,” said the Painter.
“And, besides, the young Prince had given his royal heart elsewhere.”
“And to whom?” asked Her Royal Highness.
“I am not at liberty to mention the Princess’s name,” answered the Painter.