But neither mode of relief suggested itself to Prince Bladud; so he
solicited a private audience, and told his father.
'it is an old prerogative of kings to govern everything but their
passions. King Lud flew into a frightful rage, tossed his crown up
to the ceiling, and caught it again--for in those days kings kept
their crowns on their heads, and not in the Tower--stamped the
ground, rapped his forehead, wondered why his own flesh and
blood rebelled against him, and, finally, calling in his guards,
ordered the prince away to instant Confinement in a lofty turret;
a course of treatment which the kings of old very generally
pursued towards their sons, when their matrimonial inclinations
did not happen to point to the same quarter as their own.
'When Prince Bladud had been shut up in the lofty turret for
the greater part of a year, with no better prospect before his
bodily eyes than a stone wall, or before his mental vision than
prolonged imprisonment, he naturally began to ruminate on a
plan of escape, which, after months of preparation, he managed
to accomplish; considerately leaving his dinner-knife in the heart
of his jailer, lest the poor fellow (who had a family) should be
considered privy to his flight, and punished accordingly by the
infuriated king.
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