“Well,” said the monarch, “look at your future wife. Are you not delighted? too happy to find words to express your joy? Is she not lovely?” The poor old potentate looked tenderly on his {71} daughter, and with tears in his eyes, continued—“You cannot know what I am offering, she is a good child, a good child! and will make a dear wife. Not a single subject in my realm boasts smaller eyes, yellower beak, rounder form, or larger feet. She is indeed beautiful!” The wedding was arranged, and we were married in great state. My wife’s father paid all the expenses; for in Penguin land kings as well as subjects have enough to marry and dower their daughters. This was how I became the King’s son, and how foolish marriages are made. My real troubles date from the close of the ceremony, as my wife was neither very handsome nor very good. X. I might finish here, but as I have gone so far, I may as well relate the bitter end. I dreamt one night that I beheld my first love, and that she beckoned to me to follow her. The whole scene was so vivid that when I awoke, I felt I could recognise the spot if it existed in any part of the earth. In a weak moment I resolved to start in search of this heaven and its goddess. At last, I left the Penguin shore, ostensibly on a diplomatic mission. For two whole years I searched the world over; but in vain, until, just as I was giving up hope, I discovered the object of my solicitude on a sandbank, stooping over the filthy remains of a stranded Whale, in the society of a ragged, vicious-looking Cormorant, the meanest of birds. This then was the Gull of my dreams! the spirit of the air! the ideal of beauty, the Peri, the sylph, whose seductive image had cursed my life. My eyes opened, but too late to discover how the fool mistakes the glitter of the basest metal for the lustre of pure gold. What would I not have given to crush the memory of my folly out of my heart; to begin life anew, and ponder well the first false steps. Yet I reflected, all may be well, better far the bitterest truth than the sweetest falsehood. Setting sail for Penguin Island, I resolved never again to quit its shore, and to become a good husband, father, and prince. XI. On landing, I first visited the people, who were well, next, my {72} father-in-law, who, thank God, was better than the people. I then began to look for my dear wife and child, and—good heavens! I {73} found my family had increased to four. My wife, poor soul, had taken another husband, thinking I had deserted her. [Illustration]