This was too much for the attendant, however. Grabbing the silk quilt about him, he made one leap that brought him to the door.
With one last eye-popping look at the Prince he scuttled down the gold hall screaming: "Help! Help! Mad—quite mad! The Prince is mad!"
The green and gold serving person screamed so loud and raised such a to-do that soon the whole palace was awake and soon every one was saying to every one else, "And is the Prince really mad?"
The King and Queen, followed by as many as could crowd into the doorway, scurried in their silk dressing gowns to the little Prince's room. The Prince was chuckling loudly. "All right," said he, with a wave of his hand, "I'll go swimming, even if I don't know how!" At which the Queen swooned away into the arms of a Marchioness, who swooned into the arms of a duchess, who swooned into the arms of a Dearknows-whatess; indeed, all of the royal Ladies toppled over like nine pins, while the King jumped up and down in a frenzy and tore large chunks from his beard. No wonder! For apparently the Prince was talking to himself—indeed, the strange little boy was perfectly invisible.
The Court Doctors and Wise Men first said that, then this, till the confusion was frightful; then the wisest old man, who had been laughing to himself in the corner, stepped up to the King. "The Prince must be left alone. No one must bother him or he will develop hardhartyancestoreetess!" he announced gravely. At the sound of this terrible word the Queen, who had come to, immediately toppled over again, and the King tore the rest of his beard out with one jerk. "Hardhartyancestoreetess!" echoed the Courtiers dolefully. Well, well, the end of it was that the Prince was let alone, the old wise man promising to watch him from a distance and be at hand in case he did anything violent—and violent things he most certainly did.
