There were so many of them and they perspired so freely, that the whole gathering might have been a brightly-coloured and very untasty soup.
Here and there a man or lady spinning around in the general bustle would look like a bushy turnip, or a cabbage leaf, or something stranger still, something that was bright and funny-looking and that might have been floating around in a plate of soup.
One-Two-Three was the soup spoon.
He looked the part, too, because he was so tall, thin and willowy.
Oh, if only Suok could have seen all this dancing, how she would have laughed!
Even when she played the part of the Golden Cabbage Stump in the
"Stupid King" pantomime she had danced more gracefully.
And she was supposed to have danced like a real cabbage stump!
In the midst of all this dancing, three huge fists in coarse leather gloves pounded on the door of One-Two-Three the dancing master.
The "soup" came to a halt.
Five minutes later One-Two-Three was being taken to the Palace of the Three Fat Men.
Three Palace Guards had come for him.
One of them hoisted him on to his horse facing its tail, so that he was riding backwards.
Another Guard had One-Two-Three's large paper box.
It was very big.
"I must take along my flute, some suits, wigs, notes and my favourite songs," One-Two-Three had said as he had made ready to leave with the Guards. "After all, I don't know how long I'll have to stay at the Palace.
And I'm used to beauty and fine things. That's why I like to change my clothes very often."
The dancers ran after the horses, waving their handkerchiefs and shouting words of encouragement to One-Two-Three.
The sun stood high in the sky.
One-Two-Three was very pleased to be taken to the Palace.
He liked the Three Fat Men, because the sons and daughters of all the fat, rich people liked them.
The richer a rich man was, the more One-Two-Three liked him.
"Really," he would say to himself, "what good are poor people to me?
Do they ever take dancing lessons?
They're always busy working and never have any money.
Now, take the rich merchants, the fops, and grand ladies.
They always have pockets full of money, and they're never busy doing anything."
As you see, One-Two-Three was no fool, according to his way of thinking, but according to our way, he certainly was.
"That Suok is really stupid!" he would say to himself. "Why does she bother dancing for beggars, soldiers, workers and ragamuffins?
They'll never give her more than a few coppers."
The foolish One-Two-Three would probably have been still more amazed had he known that the little dancing girl had risked her life to save Prospero the Gunsmith, the leader of those beggars, workers and ragamuffins.
The riders galloped on towards the Palace.
They saw strange things on the way.
There was a constant sound of firing in the distance.
Groups of excited people crowded in every doorway.
Every now and then small groups of workers, carrying pistols would dash across the street.
One would have thought that this was a very good day for business, but the shopkeepers were closing up their shops. They stuck their shiny fat faces out from behind the shutters to see what was going on.
Voices carried the following message from one street to the next:
"Prospero!"
"Prospero!"
"He's with us!"
"He's wi-ith u-us!"
Every so often a Guard would flash by on a horse that was foaming at the mouth.
Now and then a fat man would trot panting down a side street, surrounded by his red-headed servants who were waving the sticks with which they were going to protect their master.
On one street corner the servants suddenly began beating their fat master, instead of protecting him. They raised a terrible row.
At first One-Two-Three thought they were beating the dust out of an old armchair.
After giving their fat master three dozen whacks, the servants each kicked him in the pants and then, putting their arms around each other and waving their sticks, they ran off, shouting :
"Down with the Three Fat Men!
We don't want to serve the rich!
Long live the people!"