Evening came at last. Thanks to the efforts of the major-domo, two poles fifty-one feet high were erected in the court-yard of the palace, and a rope was stretched from one to the other. The whole Court was stationed on platforms, and the King was seated on his throne in the middle of the centre pavilion. Punchinello arrived on his donkey, mounted the ladder which was placed against one of the posts, and began to bow and wave his hat.
"Now then, friend Punchinello," cried the King, "that's quite enough bowing. Begin your performance, for I am tired of waiting."
"Sire," replied Punchinello, "I am quite ready. I am waiting for the donkey."
"What, waiting for the donkey!" replied the King, getting furious. "Are you making fun of me? Didn't you promise me to make him dance upon the tight-rope?"
"And I still promise to make him do it, sire," replied Punchinello, "only I request that he may be brought to me here where I am now, for although I know exactly how to make my donkey dance on the rope, I haven't the least idea how to make him come up the ladder. That is your major-domo's business. He promised that everything should be on the spot ready, and now he won't let me have my donkey."
At these words the whole Court began to laugh, for every one was pleased at Lord Bugolin's embarrassment.
"But, sire—" said the major-domo, who could hardly contain his rage.
"No arguing," interrupted the King. "Make the donkey climb the ladder."
