Fairy tales; Talk like a waterfall

Two travelers had an argument. One of them is nearsighted and can't see anything clearly without glasses. Everything has become a monster.

Please listen to what these two people have said.

"Europe, like Africa, has many strange creatures." The exaggerator said, "I have seen a cabbage, which is bigger than a house."

"I," said another, "have seen a jar as big as a church." The first one laughed, and the second one cried: "People made this cauldron just to cook your cabbage!" " "

The cabbage speaker likes telling jokes, while the pot speaker is smart and capable. When a joke is ridiculous, it is unnecessary to correct its mistakes with normal reasons. Deal with a man as he deals with you. This is the most appropriate way. There is no need to take it seriously.

This day is the birthday of the princess, who has just turned twelve. The bright sunshine shines in the garden of the palace.

Although she is a real princess, spanish princess, she can only have a birthday once a year, just like a poor child, so the whole country naturally regards this as a big event, that is, it should be sunny on her birthday. It was really a sunny day. Tall striped tulips stand upright on the stems, like soldiers standing at attention, looking proudly at the roses on the other side of the grass and saying, "We are as beautiful as you." Purple butterflies dance with the gold powder on their wings and visit each flower in turn; The little lizard crawled out of the cracks in the wall and lay in the daytime sun; Pomegranate opened its mouth in the hot sun, revealing a blood-red heart. Even clusters of pale yellow lemon trees hanging on the carved scaffolding along the dark corridor seem to be dyed with rich colors by this wonderful sunshine. Magnolia trees also have overlapping ivory giant spherical flowers, and the air is filled with thick fragrance.

The little princess herself and her companions walked back and forth on the balcony, playing hide-and-seek games around stone vases and mossy ancient statues. On weekdays, she is only allowed to play with children of her equal status, so she always plays alone, except on her birthday. The king has ordered that she can invite any child she likes to play with her in the palace. These skinny Spanish children are running gracefully. Boys wear big feather hats and fluttering jackets, while girls hold the back of satin dresses in their hands, and use big black and silver-gray fans to protect their eyes from the sun. But the little princess is one of the most elegant, and her dress is also the most fashionable, according to the rather complicated style at that time. Her skirt is made of grey brocade, and the skirt and wide cuffs are embroidered with silver thread, and several expensive pearls are sewn on the straight bra. As she walked, two small slippers with big pink roses emerged from under her clothes. The big gauze fan is pink and pearl, and her hair surrounds her pale little face like a faded golden halo with a beautiful white rose on it.

The sad king looked at them through the window of the palace. Standing behind him is the person he hates, his brother, Don Pietro from Aragon Province, and his confessor, the grand prosecutor from Granada, sitting next to him. At this time, the king was sadder than ever, because he saw the little princess bow to the palace officials with childlike seriousness, and also saw her shaking her fan and covering her mouth and snickering at the serious Duchess of Albuquerque who had been with her. The king suddenly remembered the young queen, the mother of the little princess, which seemed to him not long ago. At that time, the queen came to Spain from France, a happy country, and unfortunately died in the melancholy and gorgeous life of the Spanish court. The child was only six months old when she died. She didn't even see the second blossom of apricot flowers in the garden, nor did she catch up with the gathering of the next year's fruits on the knotted old fig tree in the middle of the yard. At this time, there are many weeds here. He loves her too much to bury her in an invisible grave. A doctor Moore sprinkled perfume on her. In return for the doctor's work, the king saved his life, because the doctor was sentenced to death by the Inquisition on suspicion of believing in cults and practicing witchcraft. Her body is still on the tapestry of the black marble chapel in the palace, just like the monks carried her there on a stormy March day twelve years ago. Once a month, the king, wrapped in a black robe and carrying an opaque lantern, walked into the chapel, knelt beside her and shouted, "My queen, my queen!" " "Sometimes, regardless of proper etiquette (any behavior in Spanish life is bound by etiquette, even the king's grief is no exception), he grabs her pale hand wearing jewelry with great sadness and kisses her cold face with makeup, trying to wake her up.

Today, he seems to see her again, just like the first time he saw her in Fontainebleau Palace in Paris. At that time, he was only fifteen years old, and she was even younger. It was at that time that they were formally engaged, attended by the Pope's envoy, the French king and all the courtiers, and then he returned to the Spanish Palace with a small bundle of golden hair. Ever since he stepped into his carriage, he has been thinking about those two childish lips and bent down to kiss his hand. The next wedding was held in a hurry in Pulgos, a small city on the border between the two countries. The public celebration of entering Madrid is grand. As usual, a large mass was held in La Atoka Cathedral, and a more solemn ceremony was held, in which pagans were burned at the stake. Nearly 300 heretics, many of them British, were handed over to executioners and burned at the stake.

He is madly in love with her. Many people think that he ruined the country because they fought against Britain for the empire of the new world. He can't even leave her for a quarter of an hour; For her sake, he has forgotten, or seems to have forgotten, all the major problems in this country; Driven by this passion, he reached such a terrible blindness that he didn't find that the complicated etiquette he came up with to please her aggravated her strange depression. For some time after her death, he seemed crazy. If he wasn't worried that the little princess would be hurt by his brother after he left, to tell the truth, he would formally abdicate and live in seclusion in Trabet monastery in Granada, where he has become honorary dean. His brother's cruelty is famous in Spain. Many people suspect that he killed the queen. It is said that when the Queen visited his castle in Aragon, he gave her a pair of poisonous gloves. Even after the king declared a national public mourning by royal decree for three years, he still couldn't stand the fact that ministers mentioned his second wife to him. When the emperor of the Holy Roman Empire personally proposed to his niece, a beautiful and lovely Bohemian princess, he still told his ministers to tell the emperor that the king of Spain married Griffith. Although she was only a barren bride, he loved her more than any beauty. The price of this answer is that his kingdom lost the rich provinces of the Netherlands, which were quickly led by some fanatical reformist followers against him at the instigation of the emperor.

Today, when he watched the little princess playing on the balcony, he seemed to recall his whole married life. This is a kind of intense and blazing joy, but also caused terrible pain because of its sudden end. The little princess has all the lovely arrogant behaviors of the queen, the same headstrong movements, the same beautiful and proud lips, and the same beautiful and lovely smile-it's really a very French smile-from time to time, the little princess looks up at the window, or holds out her little hand for the Spanish gentleman to kiss. However, the children's loud laughter stung his ears, and the bright and ruthless sunshine mocked his sadness. The monotonous smell of a strange spice seems to be the spice used to treat the corpse, which seems to pollute the fresh air in the morning-maybe it is his fantasy? He buried his face in the towel. When the little princess looked up at the window again, the curtains had fallen and the king had left.

She pouted in disappointment and shrugged her shoulders. To tell the truth, he should accompany her on her birthday. What's so important about those stupid national events? Maybe he went to that dark little church again? Candles are always lit there, and she is never allowed in. He is so stupid, the sun is so bright and everyone is so happy. Besides, he will miss watching a disguised bullfight, whose horn has already sounded, not to mention the puppet show and other wonderful performances. Her uncle and prosecutor are more considerate. They have gone to the balcony to congratulate her. So she raised her lovely head again, took Don Pietro's hand and slowly walked down the stone steps to the long pavilion woven with purple silk at the end of the garden. The other children followed her in strict order, that is, whoever had the longest name went first.

A group of aristocratic boys disguised as matadors came out to welcome her. The young Count Cindy, a beautiful 14-year-old boy, took off his hat with all the elegant manners of a Spanish aristocratic family at a lower level and solemnly led her to a small ivory chair set up in the stands of the arena and sat down. The children formed a circle around her. They waved their big fans while talking to each other. Don Pietro and the prosecutor stood in the population area with smiles. Even the Duchess, known as the chamberlain, is a thin, indecisive woman with a yellow feathered jaw. She changed her old straight face, and a cold smile passed over her wrinkled face, and her thin, bloodless lips twitched.

This is really a shocking bullfight, even more wonderful than the real bullfight in the eyes of the little princess. When the Duke of Parma came to visit her father, she was taken to Seville to watch the bullfight. A group of boys dressed in ornate horseskin ran back and forth in the venue, waving spears tied with colored ribbons; Other boys walked and jumped the scarlet earth in front of the fake cow. When the cows rushed over, they easily jumped over the fence. As for the cow, although it is only made of willow branches and open cowhide, it is as energetic as a real cow, but sometimes it insists on running around in the field with its hind legs, which a real cow can't even dream of. Cows also play well. Excited, the children got up and stood on the bench, waving bandannas and shouting, Great, Great! That kind of energy is just like an adult. In this way, the battle continued. The last few horses disguised as adults were stabbed down. The young new earl also pressed the cow to the ground. He asked the little princess to allow him to give a fatal blow, and then he stabbed the animal to death with a wood blade. He stabbed the bull's head off with too much force, which made Mr. Ronan laugh happily. He is the son of the French ambassador to Madrid.