'm not proud, I'll hear you. They say
there's a rather well-looking wench in your parts, the Princess
Jaqueline--"

"Mention that lady's name, you villain," cried Dick, "and I'll cut down
your orange-tree!" and he wished he had brought the Sword of Sharpness,
for you cannot prod down a tree with the point of a rapier.

"Fancy her yourself?" said the Dwarf, showing his yellow teeth with a
detestable grin; while Ricardo turned quite white with anger, and not
knowing how to deal with this insufferable little monster.

"I'm a widower, I am," said the Dwarf, "though I'm out of mourning," for
he wore a dirty clay-coloured Yellow jacket. "My illustrious consort,
the Princess Frutilla, did not behave very nice, and I had to avenge my
honour; in fact, I'm open to any offers, however humble. Going at an
alarming sacrifice! Come to my box" (and he pointed to a filthy clay
cottage, all surrounded by thistles, nettles, and black boggy water),
"and I'll talk over your proposals."

"Hold your impudent tongue!" said Dick. "The Princess Frutilla was an
injured saint; and as for the lady whom I shall not name in your
polluting presence, I am her knight, and I defy you to deadly combat!"

We may imagine how glad the princess was when (disguised as a wasp) she
heard Dick say he was her knight; not that, in fact, he had thought of it
before.

"Oh! you're for a fight, are you?" sneered the Dwarf. "I might tell you
to hit one of your own weight, but I'm not afraid of six of you. Yah!
mammy's brat! Look here, young Blinkers, I don't want to hurt you. Just
turn old Dobbin's head, and trot back to your mammy, Queen Rosalind, at
Pantouflia. Does she know you're out?"

"I'll be into _you_, pretty quick," said Ricardo. "But why do I bandy
words with a miserable peasant?"

"And don't get much the best of them either," said the Dwarf,
provokingly. "But I'll fight, if you will have it."

The prince leaped from his horse, leaving Pepper on the saddle-bow.

No sooner had he touched the ground than the Dwarf shouted:

"Hi! to him, Billy! to him, Daniel! at him, good lions, at him!" and,
with an awful roar, two lions rushed from a neighbouring potato-patch and
made for Ricardo. These were not ordinary lions, history avers, each
having two heads, each being eight feet high, with four rows of teeth;
their skins as hard as nails, and bright red, like morocco. {135}

The prince did not lose his presence of mind; hastily he threw the