dreadful wounds be delivered? arrows darken the air? cannon balls crash through the battalions? cavalry charge infantry?
infantry pitch into cavalry? bugles blow; drums beat; horses neigh; fifes sing; soldiers roar, swear, hurray; officers shout out 'Forward, my men!' 'This way, lads!' 'Give it 'em, boys!'
'Fight for King Giglio, and the cause of right!' 'King Padella for ever!' Would I not describe all this, I say, and in the very finest language too? But this humble pen does not possess the skill necessary for the description of combats.In a word, the overthrow of King Padella's army was so complete, that if they had been Russians you could not have wished them to be more utterly smashed and confounded.
As for that usurping monarch, having performed acts of velour much more considerable than could be expected of a royal ruffian and usurper, who had such a bad cause, and who was so cruel to women,--as for King Padella, I say, when his army ran away, the King ran away too, kicking his first general, Prince Punchikoff, from his saddle, and galloping away on the Prince's horse, having, indeed, had twenty-five or twenty-six of his own shot under him.Hedzoff coming up, and finding Punchikoff down, as you may imagine, very speedily disposed of HIM.
Meanwhile King Padella was scampering off as hard as his horse could lay legs to ground.Fast as he scampered, I promise you somebody else galloped faster; and that individual, as no doubt you are aware, was the Royal Giglio, who kept bawling out, 'Stay, traitor! Turn, miscreant, and defend thyself! Stand, tyrant, coward, ruffian, royal wretch, till I cut thy ugly head from thy usurping shoulders!' And, with his fairy sword, which elongated itself at will, His Majesty kept poking and prodding Padella in the back, until that wicked monarch roared with anguish.
When he was fairly brought to bay, Padella turned and dealt Prince Giglio a prodigious crack over the sconce with his battle-axe, a most enormous weapon, which had cut down I don't know how many regiments in the course of the afternoon.But, Law bless you! though the blow fell right down on His Majesty's helmet, it made no more impression than if Padella had struck him with a pat of butter: his battle-axe crumpled up in Padella's hand, and the Royal Giglio laughed for very scorn at the impotent efforts of that atrocious usurper.
At the ill success of his blow the Crim Tartar monarch was justly irritated.'If,' says he to Giglio, 'you ride a fairy horse, and wear fairy armour, what on earth is the use of my hitting you? I may as well give myself up a prisoner at once.
Your Majesty won't, I suppose, be so mean as to strike a poor fellow who can't strike again?'
The justice of Padella's remark struck the magnanimous Giglio.
'Do you yield yourself a prisoner, Padella?' says he.
'Of course I do,' says Padella.
'Do you acknowledge Rosalba as your rightful Queen, and give up the crown and all your treasures to your rightful mistress?'
'If I must, I must,' says Padella, who was naturally very sulky.
By this time King Giglio's aides-de-camp had come up, whom His Majesty ordered to bind the prisoner.And they tied his hands behind him, and bound his legs tight under his horse, having set him with his face to the tail; and in this fashion he was led back to King Giglio's quarters, and thrust into the very dungeon where young Bulbo had been confined.
