Page:The Spoilt Child.djvu/149

That the bridegroom gets nervous, and asks in affright,
"Can I really be such a ridiculous sight?
"Is some further expenditure needed, alas?"
And anxiously studies his face in the glass.
Reassured of his beauty, and freed from alarm
He swaggers along, upon Thakchacha's arm.
But scarce is he rid of that terrible doubt,
When in mud like a pumpkin he's tumbling about;
And his friends in the mire as they flounder half-dead,
See the Halls, not of Hymen but Pluto ahead.
And indeed it turns out, when he's taken the yoke[33],
That his vision connubial has vanished in smoke;
For the cluster of pearls he was hoping to claim,
And the gold and the silver, were nought but a name!
Thakchacha, outwitted, with furious scowl
Glares round him, scarce able to stifle a howl.
And oh, when its time for the bridegroom to enter
The ladies' domain[34], of what mirth he's the centre!
Every bangle a-jangle, around him they flutter,
And flout him and scout him till scarce he can stutter.
"This pot-bellied dotard to wed with a baby!
"This bloated old octogenarian gaby!
"With a head like a gourd, not a tooth to his gum!
"'Tis an overgrown ogre in spectacles come!
"And the child, the sweet blossom, our jewel so rare!
"Ah, shame on the Kulins, such deeds who can dare!"
While, shrinking and blinking and all of a shiver,
The bridegroom, a captive whom none will deliver,
Cries feebly as one in the direst of pain,
"To the rescue, Thakchacha!" again and again.
That hero leaps in at the piteous sound,
But is seized by the durwans and hurled to the ground.
The remains of his beard he may rescue to-day,
But a terrible hiding's his share of the prey.
The guests, who consider it risky to stay,
Have other engagements, and hasten away.
Your servant, the tumult increasing still more,
Not without some temerity, made for the door,
And retired, with a fortitude second to none.
All hail to you, masters! my story is done.