CHAPTER VIII. - The Prince is Puzzled
PRINCE PRIGIO did not go to bed.
It was bright daylight, and he had promised to bring
the horns and tail of a Firedrake as a present to a
pretty lady. He had said it was easy to do this;
but now, as he sat and thought over it, he did not
feel so victorious.
“First,” he said, “where is the
Firedrake?”
He reflected for a little, and then ran upstairs to
the garret.
“It should be here!”
he cried, tossing the fairies’ gifts about; “and,
by George, here it is!”
Indeed, he had found the spyglass
of carved ivory which Prince Ali, in the Arabian
Nights, bought in the bazaar in Schiraz. Now,
this glass was made so that, by looking through it,
you could see anybody or anything you wished, however
far away. Prigio’s first idea was to look
at his lady. “But she does not expect to
be looked at,” he thought; “and I won’t!”
On the other hand, he determined to look at the Firedrake;
for, of course, he had no delicacy about spying on
him, the brute.
The prince clapped the glass to his
eye, stared out of window, and there, sure enough,
he saw the Firedrake. He was floating about in
a sea of molten lava, on the top of a volcano.
There he was, swimming and diving for pleasure, tossing
up the flaming waves, and blowing fountains of fire
out of his nostrils, like a whale spouting!
The prince did not like the looks of him.
“With all my cap of darkness,
and my shoes of swiftness, and my sword of sharpness,
I never could get near that beast,” he said;
“and if I did stalk him, I could not
hurt him. Poor little Alphonso! poor Enrico! what
plucky fellows they were! I fancied that there
was no such thing as a Firedrake: he’s
not in the Natural History books; and I thought the
boys were only making fun, and would be back soon,
safe and sound. How horrid being too clever makes
one! And now, what am I to do?”
What was he to do, indeed? And
what would you have done? Bring the horns and
tail he must, or perish in the adventure. Otherwise,
how could he meet his lady? - why, she would
think him a mere braggart.
The prince sat down, and thought and
thought; and the day went on, and it was now high
noon.
At last he jumped up and rushed into
the library, a room where nobody ever went except
himself and the queen. There he turned the books
upside down, in his haste, till he found an old one,
by a French gentleman, Monsieur Cyrano de Bergerac.
It was an account of a voyage to the moon, in which
there is a great deal of information about matters
not generally known; for few travellers have been
to the moon. In that book, Prince Prigio fancied
he would find something he half remembered, and that
would be of use to him. And he did! So
you see that cleverness, and minding your book, have
some advantages, after all. For here the prince
learned that there is a very rare beast called a Remora,
which is at least as cold as the Firedrake is hot!
“Now,” thought he, “if
I can only make these two fight, why the Remora
may kill the Firedrake, or take the heat out of him,
at least, so that I may have a chance.”
Then he seized the ivory glass, clapped
it to his eye, and looked for the Remora. Just
the tip of his nose, as white as snow and as smooth
as ice, was sticking out of a chink in a frozen mountain,
not far from the burning mountain of the Firedrake.
“Hooray!” said the prince
softly to himself; and he jumped like mad into the
winged shoes of swiftness, stuck on the cap of darkness,
girdled himself with the sword of sharpness, and put
a good slice of bread, with some cold tongue, in a
wallet, which he slung on his back. Never you
fight, if you can help it, except with plenty of food
to keep you going and in good heart. Then off
he flew, and soon he reached the volcano of the Firedrake.