“Go away, your Royal Highness, and go to bed, please,” said Betsinda, with the warming-pan.
But Bulbo said, “No, never, till thou swearest to be mine, thou lovely, blushing chambermaid divine! Here, at thy feet the royal Bulbo lies, the trembling captive of Betsinda’s eyes.”
And he went on, making himself so absurd and ridiculous, that Betsinda, who was full of fun, gave him a touch with
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the warming-pan, which, I promise you, made him cry “O-o-o-o!” in a very different manner.
Prince Bulbo made such a noise that Prince Giglio, who heard him from the next room, came in to see what was the matter. As soon as he saw what was taking place, Giglio, in a fury, rushed on Bulbo, kicked him in the rudest manner up to the ceiling, and went on kicking him till his hair was quite out of curl.
Poor Betsinda did not know whether to laugh or to cry; the kicking certainly must hurt the Prince, but then he looked so droll! When Giglio had done knocking him up and down to the ground, and whilst he went into a corner rubbing himself, what do you think Giglio does? He goes down on his own knees to Betsinda, takes her hand, begs her to accept his heart, and offers to marry her that
