behavior to Rosalba, Prince Bulbo must instantly be executed! The noble Giglio could not restrain his tears, nor could the Grenadiers, nor the officers, nor could Bulbo himself, when the matter was explained to him; and he was brought to understand that his Majesty’s promise, of course, was above everything, and Bulbo must submit. So poor Bulbo was led out,—Hedzoff trying to console him by pointing out that if he had won the battle of Bombardaro, he might have hanged Prince Giglio. “Yes! But that is no comfort to me now I” said poor Bulbo; nor indeed was it, poor fellow.
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He was told the business would be done the next morning at eight, and was taken back to his dungeon, where every attention was paid to him. The jailer’s wife sent him tea, and the turnkey’s daughter begged him to write his name in her album, where a many gentlemen had wrote it on like occasions! “Bother your album!” says Bulbo. The Undertaker came and measured him for the handsomest coffin which money could buy: even this didn’t console Bulbo. The Cook brought him dishes which he once used to like; but he wouldn’t touch them: he sat down and began writing an adieu to Angelica, as the clock kept always ticking and the hands drawing nearer to the next morning. The Barber came in at night, and offered to
