'‘Know you not, O stranger,’ was the reply, ‘of the recent proclamation

of our gracious king?’

‘Proclamation! No. What proclamation?’ rejoined the prince - for he

had travelled along the by and little-frequented ways, and knew

nothing of what had passed upon the public roads, such as they were.

‘Why,’ replied the peasant, ‘the foreign lady that our prince wished to

wed, is married to a foreign noble of her own country, and the king

proclaims the fact, and a great public festival besides; for now, of

course, Prince Bladud will come back and marry the lady his father

chose, who they say is as beautiful as the noonday sun. Your health,

sir. God save the king!’

The prince remained to hear no more. He fled from the spot, and

plunged into the thickest recesses of a neighbouring wood. On, on, he

wandered, night and day; beneath the blazing sun, and the cold pale

moon; through the dry heat of noon, and the damp cold of night; in

the gray light of morn, and the red glare of eve. So heedless was he of

time or object, that being bound for Athens, he wandered as far out of

his way as Bath.

There was no city where Bath stands, then. There was no vestige of

human habitation, or sign of man's resort, to bear the name; but there

was the same noble country, the same broad expanse of hill and dale,

the same beautiful channel stealing on, far away, the same lofty

mountains which, like the troubles of life, viewed at a distance, and

partially obscured by the bright mist of its morning, lose their

ruggedness and asperity, and seem all ease and softness. Moved by

the gentle beauty of the scene, the prince sank upon the green turf,

and bathed his swollen feet in his tears.

'‘Oh!’ said the unhappy Bladud, clasping his hands, and mournfully

raising his eyes towards the sky, ‘would that my wanderings might

end here! Would that these grateful tears with which I now mourn

hope misplaced, and love despised, might flow in peace for ever!’

'The wish was heard. It was in the time of the heathen deities, who

used occasionally to take people at their words, with a promptness, in

some cases, extremely awkward. The ground opened beneath the

prince's feet; he sank into the chasm; and instantaneously it closed

upon his head for ever, save where his hot tears welled up through the

earth, and where they have continued to gush forth ever since.

It is observable that, to this day, large numbers of elderly ladies and

gentlemen who have been disappointed in procuring partners, and

almost as many young ones who are anxious to obtain them, repair

annually to Bath to drink the waters, from which they derive much

The Pickwick Papers