pails full of Queen-of-Hungary water in her majesty's face without bringing her to herself. The ladies and maids of honour wept, and all the valets exclaimed, "What, is the king's daughter, then, lost?" The king, finding that the princess did not appear, said to his state page, "Go, seek Fanfarinet, who is asleep in some corner, that he may come and mourn with us." The pages sought everywhere, everywhere, and found him no more than they found Printaniere, the head-dress, or the dagger. Here was an additional affliction, which completed their majesties' despair.
The king summoned all his counsellors and officers; he entered, with the queen, a great hall, which had been hastily hung with black. They had put off their grand robes, and were each clad in a long mourning gown, girt with a cord. When they appeared in this attire, there was not a heart so hard that it was not ready to break. The hall resounded with sobs and sighs, and rivulets of tears ran down the floor. As the king had not had time to prepare a speech, he sat for three hours without uttering a word; at last he began thus:—
"Oyez! great folks and little! I have lost my beloved daughter Printaniere; I cannot tell whether she has melted away or been stolen from me. The queen's head-gear and my poignard, which are worth their weight in gold, have disappeared with the princess; and what is still worse, the ambassador Fanfarinet is gone too. I much fear that the king his master, not hearing any tidings of him, will come hither to seek for him, and will accuse us of having made him into minced-meat. Notwithstanding all this, I might have endured my misfortunes with resignation, if I had had any money; but I confess to you frankly, that the expenses of this wedding have ruined me. Consider, therefore, my dear subjects, what I can do to recover my daughter, Fanfarinet, et cætera."
Everybody admired the king's fine oration. Never before had he displayed so much eloquence. Lord Gambille, the chancellor of the kingdom, arose and spoke as follows:—
"Sire, we are exceedingly vexed at your vexation, and would willingly have sacrificed even our wives and our little children to have saved you from so much annoyance; but apparently this is a trick of the Fairy Carabossa. The princess
