Алан Милн - Once on a Time

"Before I explain myself, your Majesty," he said, "may I congratulate your Majesty on your wonderful victory over the Barodians? From the little I have gathered outside, it is the most remarkable victory that has ever occurred. But of course I am longing to hear the full story from your Majesty's own lips. Is it a fact that your Majesty made his way at dead of night to the King of Barodia's own tent and challenged him to mortal combat and slew him?" There was an eagerness, very winning, in his eyes as he asked it; he seemed to be envying the King such an adventure—an adventure after his own heart.

Merriwig was in an awkward position. He wondered for a moment whether to order his daughter out of the room. "Leave us, my child," he would say. "These are matters for men to discuss." But Hyacinth would know quite well why she had been sent out, and would certainly tell Coronel the truth of the matter afterwards.

It really looked as if Coronel would have to be let into the secret too. He cleared his throat noisily by way of preparation.

"There are certain state reasons," he said with dignity, "why that story has been allowed to get about."

"Pardon, your Majesty. I have no wish to―"

"But as you know so much, you may as well know all. It happened like this." Once more he told the story of his midnight visit, and of the King's letter to him.

"But, your Majesty," cried Coronel, "it is more wonderful than the other. Never was such genius of invention, such brilliance and daring of execution."

"So you like it," said Merriwig, trying to look modest.

"I love it."

"I knew he'd love it," put in Hyacinth. "It's just the sort of story that Coronel would love. Tell him about how you fought the King at the beginning of the war, and how you pretended to be a swineherd, and how—"

Could any father have resisted? In a little while Hyacinth and Coronel were seated eagerly at his feet, and he was telling once more the great story of his adventures.

"Well, well," said the King at the end of it, when he had received their tribute of admiration. "Those are just a few of the little adventures that happen in war time." He turned to Coronel. "And so you, I understand, wish to marry my daughter?"

"Does that surprise your Majesty?"

"Well, no, it doesn't. And she, I understand, wishes to marry you."

"Yes, please, Father."

"That," said Coronel simply, "is much more surprising."

Merriwig, however, was not so sure of that. He liked the look of Coronel, he liked his manner, and he saw at once that he knew a good story—when he heard one.

"Of course," he said, "you'll have to win her."

"Anything your Majesty sets me to do. It's as well," he added with a disarming smile, "that you cannot ask for the whiskers of the King of Barodia. There is only one man who could have got those."

Truly an excellent young man.

"Well, we'll arrange something," said Merriwig, looking pleased. "Perhaps your Prince Udo would care to be a competitor too."

Hyacinth and Coronel interchanged a smile.

"Alas, Father," she said, "his Royal Highness is not attracted by my poor charms."

"Wait till he has seen them, my dear," said Merriwig with a chuckle.

"He has seen them, Father."

"What? You invited him here? Tell me about this, Hyacinth. He came to stay with you and he never―"

"His Royal Highness," put in Coronel, "has given his affections to another."

"Aha! So that's the secret. Now I wonder if I can guess who she is. What do you say to the Princess Elvira of Tregong? I know his father had hopes in that direction."

Hyacinth looked round at Coronel as if appealing for his support. He took a step towards her.

"No, it's not the Princess Elvira," said Hyacinth, a little nervously.

The King laughed good–humouredly.

"Ah, well, you must tell me," he said.

Hyacinth put out her hand, and Coronel pressed it encouragingly.

"His Royal Highness Prince Udo," she said, "is marrying the Countess Belvane."

Belvane had now had twenty–four hours in which to think it over.

Whatever her faults, she had a sense of humour. She could not help smiling to herself as she thought of that scene in the garden. However much she regretted her too hasty engagement, she was sure Udo regretted it still more. If she gave him the least opportunity he would draw back from it.

Then why not give him the opportunity? "My dear Prince Udo, I'm afraid I mistook the nature of my feelings"—said, of course, with downcast head and a maidenly blush. Exit Udo with haste, enter King Merriwig. It would be so easy.

Ah, but then Hyacinth would have won. Hyacinth had forced the engagement upon her; even if it only lasted for twenty–four hours, so long as it was a forced engagement, Hyacinth would have had the better of her for that time. But if she welcomed the engagement, if she managed in some way to turn it to account, to make it appear as if she had wanted it all the time, then Hyacinth's victory would be no victory at all, but a defeat.

Marry Udo, then, as if willingly? Yes, but that was too high a price to pay. She was by this time thoroughly weary of him and besides, she had every intention of marrying the King of Euralia. To pretend to marry him until she brought the King in open conflict with him, and then having led the King to her feet to dismiss the rival who had served her turn—that was her only wise course.

She did not come to this conclusion without much thought. She composed an Ode to Despair, an Elegy to an Unhappy Woman, and a Triolet to Interfering Dukes, before her mind was made up. She also considered very seriously what she would look like in a little cottage in the middle of the forest, dressed in a melancholy grey and holding communion only with the birds and trees; a life of retirement away from the vain world; a life into which no man came. It had its attractions, but she decided that grey did not suit her.

She went down to her garden and sent for Prince Udo. At about the moment when the King was having the terrible news broken to him, Udo was protesting over the sundial that he loved Belvane and Belvane only, and that he was looking forward eagerly to the day when she would make him the happiest of men. So afraid was he of what might happen to him on the way back to Araby.

"The Countess Belvane!" cried Merriwig. "Prince Udo marry the Countess Belvane! I never heard such a thing in my life." He glared at them one after the other as if it were their fault—as indeed it was. "Why didn't you tell me this before, Hyacinth?"

"It was only just announced, Father."

"Who announced it?"

"Well—er—Udo did," said Coronel.

"I never heard of anything so ridiculous in my life! I won't have it!"

"But, Father, don't you think she'd make a very good Queen?"

"She'd make a wonderful—that has nothing to do with it. What I feel so strongly about is this. For month after month I am fighting in a strange country. After extraordinary scenes of violence and—peril—I come back to my own home to enjoy the—er—fruits of victory. No sooner do I get inside my door than I have all this thrust upon me."

"All what, Father?" said Hyacinth innocently.

"All this ," said the King, with a circular movement of his hand. "It's too bad; upon my word it is. I won't have it. Now mind, Hyacinth, I won't have it.

"But, Father, how can I help it?"

Merriwig paid no attention to her.

"I come home," he went on indignantly, "fresh from the—er—spoils of victory to what I thought was my own peaceful—er—home. And what do I find? Somebody here wants to marry somebody there, and somebody else over there wants to marry somebody else over here; it's impossible to mention any person's name, in even the most casual way, without being told they are going to get married, or some nonsense of that sort. I'm very much upset about it."