Una compañía de hermosos egipcios -como se llamaba entonces a los gitanos- avanzó al redondel, y sentándose en el suelo, con las piernas cruzadas, en círculo, comenzaron a tocar suavemente sus cítaras, moviendo el cuerpo al son de la música y tarareando en leve murmullo un aire de ensueño, todo en notas graves. Cuando vieron a don Pedro le gruñeron y algunos se mostraron aterrorizados, porque apenas hacía dos semanas que había hecho ahorcar por brujos a dos de la tribu en la plaza del mercado de Sevilla; pero la linda infanta los encantó, viéndola echarse hacia atrás y mirar con sus grandes ojos azules por encima del abanico, y se sentían seguros de que personilla tan encantadora no podía ser cruel para nadie. Tocaron, pues, muy dulcemente, hiriendo apenas las cuerdas de las cítaras con sus largas uñas puntiagudas e inclinando las cabezas como si tuvieran sueño. De pronto, con un grito tan agudo que todos los niños se asustaron y don Pedro se llevó la mano al pomo de su daga, se pusieron en pie y giraron locamente por el redondel, tocando sus tamboriles y cantando una delirante canción de amor en su extraño lenguaje gutural. Luego, a una nueva señal, se echaron todos al suelo y se quedaron allí tranquilos: el opaco rasgueo de las cítaras era el único sonido que rompía el silencio. Después de repetir el acto varias veces, desaparecieron por un momento, y volvieron, trayendo un oso pardo y peludo atado con cadena y cargando sobre las espaldas unos pequeños monos de Berbería. El oso se ponía de cabeza con la mayor gravedad; y los monos, amaestrados, hicieron toda clase de juegos divertidos con dos niños gitanos que parecían ser sus maestros, y luchaban con espadas diminutas y disparaban fusiles y ejecutaban ejercicios militares como si fueran soldados de la guardia del rey. Los gitanos alcanzaron gran éxito.

Pero la parte más divertida de toda la fiesta matinal fue, indudablemente, el baile del enanito. Cuando entró al redondel, tropezando, tambaleándose sobre sus piernas torcidas y sacudiendo la enorme y deforme cabeza a uno y otro lado, los niños lanzaron gritos de placer, y la infanta rió de tal modo, que la camarera mayor hubo de recordarle que, aunque había precedentes en España de que una hija de reyes hubiera llorado delante de sus iguales, no los había de que una princesa de sangre real se divirtiera tanto delante de personas de nacimiento inferior al suyo. El enano, sin embargo, era irresistible, y aun en la corte de España, famosa siempre por su culta afición a lo horrible, nunca se había visto monstruecillo tan fantástico. Y era la primera aparición que hacía. Le habían descubierto apenas el día anterior, corriendo en salvaje libertad, dos nobles que estaban cazando en un lugar remoto del gran bosque de alcornoques que rodeaba la ciudad, y lo habían llevado al palacio como sorpresa para la infanta: su padre, campesino pobre, que vivía de hacer carbón vegetal, se había alegrado de verse libre de hijo tan feo y tan inútil.

Quizá lo más divertido en él era su incompleta inconsciencia: no se daba cuenta de su aire grotesco. En realidad, parecía feliz y estaba lleno de vivacidad. Cuando los niños se reían, él se reía tan alegre y tan libremente como cualquiera de ellos, y al acabar cada baile les hacía la más ridícula de las reverencias, sonriéndoles y saludándolos como si fuera uno de ellos, en vez de ser una cosa deforme que la naturaleza en momento de humorismo había modelado para diversión de los demás.

La infanta lo fascinó. No podía quitarle los ojos de encima, y parecía bailar para ella sola. Cuando, al terminar la fiesta, recordando ella haber visto que las grandes damas de la corte arrojaban ramilletes a Caffarelli, el famoso sopranista italiano de la Capilla Sixtina, a quien el Papa había enviado a Madrid para ver si lograba curar con la dulzura de su voz la melancolía del rey, se quitó del cabello la linda rosa blanca, y, en parte por burla y en parte por mortificar a la camarera, se la arrojó a través del redondel con la más dulce de las sonrisas; el Enano tomó en serio la cosa, y apretando la flor contra sus toscos labios, se puso la mano en el corazón y se arrodilló ante la infanta, enseñando los dientes de oreja a oreja y brillantes de placer los ojos.

La infanta se vió atacada por tal hilaridad que siguió riéndose hasta después que el Enanito había salido del redondel, y expresó a su tío el deseo de que se repitiera inmediatamente aquel baile. Pero la camarera, so pretexto de que el sol daba demasiado calor, decidió que sería lo mejor para su alteza volver sin tardanza al palacio, donde se le había preparado un magnífico festín, que incluía un gran pastel de cumpleaños con sus iniciales labradas en azúcar pintado y una preciosa bandera de plata flotando en lo más alto. La infanta, pues, se levantó con gran dignidad, y habiendo dado la orden de que el Enanito bailara ante ella otra vez después de la siesta, y las gracias al adolescente conde de Tierra Nueva por su cortesía, se dirigió a sus habitaciones, siguiéndola los niños en el mismo orden en que habían venido.

Cuando el Enanito oyó decir que tendría que bailar de nuevo ante la infanta, y por mandato expreso suyo, se puso tan orgulloso que corrió al jardín besando la rosa blanca en grotesco éxtasis de placer y haciendo los más torpes y absurdos gestos de satisfacción.

Las flores se indignaron al verlo invadir su bella morada, y cuando lo vieron hacer cabriolas por las avenidas del jardín, levantando los brazos sobre la cabeza de una manera ridícula, no pudieron contenerse.

-Es demasiado feo para que se le permita jugar donde estamos nosotros -gritaron los tulipanes.

-Debería beber jugo de adormideras, y dormirse durante mil años -dijeron los grandes lirios escarlatas, y se encendieron de ira.

-¡Es un verdadero horror! -chilló el cacto-. Es torcido y rechoncho, y su cabeza no guarda proporción con sus piernas. Me crispo todo al verlo; si se atreve a pasar junto a mí, lo pincho con mis espinas.

-¡Y tiene en las manos uno de mis mejores botones! -exclamó el rosal de rosas blancas-. Yo mismo se lo di a la infanta esta mañana, como regalo de natales y él se lo ha robado -y le gritó a voz en cuello-: ¡Ladrón! ¡Ladrón! ¡Ladrón!

Hasta los geranios rojos, que generalmente no se daban aire de importancia y de quienes era sabido que tenían muchos parientes pobres, se retorcieron de disgusto al verlo; y cuando las violetas suavemente declararon que, aunque era extremadamente feo, no era culpa suya, se les respondió con no poca justicia que ése era su principal defecto y que no era razón para admirar a nadie el ser incurable; en verdad hubo violetas a quienes la fealdad del Enano pareció casi ostentosa y pensaron que habría procedido mejor mostrándose triste, o siquiera pensativo, en vez de saltar alegremente y ponerse en actitudes grotescas y ridículas.

El viejo reloj de sol, que era un personaje muy notable y había indicado las horas del día a no menor persona que el emperador Carlos V, se quedó tan azorado ante el aspecto del Enanito que casi se olvidó de mover su largo dedo de sombra durante dos minutos y no pudo menos de decirle al pavo real blanco, color de leche, el cual tomaba el sol en la balaustrada, que todo el mundo sabía que los hijos de reyes eran reyes y que los hijos de carboneros eran carboneros, y que era cosa absurda pretender lo contrario; afirmación a la cual asintió de buen grado el pavo real y hasta gritó: «Ciertamente, ciertamente», con voz tan aguda y desagradable, que los peces dorados que vivían en el tazón de la fresca fuente borbotante, sacaron las cabezas del agua y preguntaron a los enormes tritones de piedra qué diablos pasaba en tierra.

A troop of handsome Egyptians—as the gipsies were termed in those days—then advanced into the arena, and sitting down cross-legs, in a circle, began to play softly upon their zithers, moving their bodies to the tune, and humming, almost below their breath, a low dreamy air.  When they caught sight of Don Pedro they scowled at him, and some of them looked terrified, for only a few weeks before he had had two of their tribe hanged for sorcery in the market-place at Seville, but the pretty Infanta charmed them as she leaned back peeping over her fan with her great blue eyes, and they felt sure that one so lovely as she was could never be cruel to anybody.  So they played on very gently and just touching the cords of the zithers with their long pointed nails, and their heads began to nod as though they were falling asleep.  Suddenly, with a cry so shrill that all the children were startled and Don Pedro’s hand clutched at the agate pommel of his dagger, they leapt to their feet and whirled madly round the enclosure beating their tambourines, and chaunting some wild love-song in their strange guttural language.  Then at another signal they all flung themselves again to the ground and lay there quite still, the dull strumming of the zithers being the only sound that broke the silence.  After that they had done this several times, they disappeared for a moment and came back leading a brown shaggy bear by a chain, and carrying on their shoulders some little Barbary apes.  The bear stood upon his head with the utmost gravity, and the wizened apes played all kinds of amusing tricks with two gipsy boys who seemed to be their masters, and fought with tiny swords, and fired off guns, and went through a regular soldier’s drill just like the King’s own bodyguard.  In fact the gipsies were a great success.

But the funniest part of the whole morning's entertainment, was undoubtedly the dancing of the little Dwarf. When he stumbled into the arena, waddling on his crooked legs and Wagging his huge misshapen head from side to side, the children went off into a loud shout of delight, and the Infanta herself laughed so much that the Camerera was obliged to remind her that although there were many precedents in Spain for a King's daughter weeping before her equals, there were none for a Princess of the blood royal making so merry before those who were her inferiors in birth. The Dwarf however, was really quite irresistible, and even at the Spanish Court, always noted for its cultivated passion for the horrible, so fantastic a little monster had never been seen. It was his first appearance, too. He had been discovered only the day before, running wild through the forest, by two of the nobles who happened to have been hunting in a remote part of the great cork-wood that surrounded the town, and had been carried off by them to the Palace as a surprise for the Infanta, his father, who was a poor charcoal-burner, being but too well pleased to get rid of so ugly and useless a child. 

Perhaps the most amusing thing about him was his complete unconsciousness of his own grotesque appearance. Indeed he seemed quite happy and full of the highest spirits. When the children laughed, he laughed as freely and as joyously as any of them, and at the close of each dance he made them each the funniest of bows, smiling and nodding at them just as if he was really one of themselves, and not a little misshapen thing that Nature, in some humourous mood, had fashioned for others to mock at. 

As for the Infanta, she absolutely fascinated him. He could not keep his eyes off her, and seemed to dance for her alone, and when at the close of the performance, remembering how she had seen the great ladies of the Court throw bouquets to Caffarelli the famous Italian treble, whom the Pope had sent from his own chapel to Madrid that he might cure the King's melancholy by the sweetness of his voice, she took out of her hair the beautiful white rose, and partly for a jest and partly to tease the Camerera, threw it to him across the arena with her sweetest smile, he took the whole matter quite seriously, and pressing the flower to his rough coarse lips he put his hand upon his heart, and sank on one knee before her, grinning from ear to ear, and with his little bright eyes sparkling with pleasure.

This so upset the gravity of the Infanta that she kept on laughing long after the little Dwarf had run out of the arena, and expressed a desire to her uncle that the dance should be immediately repeated. The Camerera, however, on the plea that the sun was too hot, decided that it would be better that her Highness should return without delay to the Palace, where a wonderful feast had been already prepared for her, including a real birthday cake with her own initials worked all over it in painted sugar and a lovely silver flag waving from the top. The Infanta accordingly rose up with much dignity, and having given orders that the little dwarf was to dance again for her after the hour of siesta, and conveyed her thanks to the young Count of Tierra-Nueva for his charming reception, she went back to her apartments, the children following in the same order in which they had entered.

Now when the little Dwarf heard that he was to dance a second time before the Infanta, and by her own express command, he was so proud that he ran out into the garden, kissing the white rose in an absurd ecstasy of pleasure, and making the most uncouth and clumsy gestures of delight.

The Flowers were quite indignant at his daring to intrude into their beautiful home, and when they saw him capering up and down the walks, and waving his arms above his head in such a ridiculous manner, they could not restrain their feelings any longer.

'He is really far too ugly to be allowed to play in any place where we are,' cried the Tulips.

'He should drink poppy-juice, and go to sleep for a thousand years,' said the great scarlet Lilies, and they grew quite hot and angry.

'He is a perfect horror!' screamed the Cactus. 'Why, he is twisted and stumpy, and his head is completely out of proportion with his legs. Really he makes me feel prickly all over, and if he comes near me I will sting him with my thorns.'

'And he has actually got one of my best blooms,' exclaimed the White Rose-Tree. 'I gave it to the Infanta this morning myself as a birthday present, and he has stolen it from her.' And she called out: 'Thief thief thief!' at the top of her voice.

Even the red Geraniums, who did not usually give themselves airs, and were known to have a great many poor relations themselves, curled up in disgust when they saw him, and when the Violets meekly remarked that though he was certainly extremely plain, still he could not help it, they retorted with a good deal of justice that that was his chief defect, and that there was no reason why one should admire a person because he was incurable; and, indeed, some of the Violets themselves felt that the ugliness of the little Dwarf was almost ostentatious, and that he would have shown much better taste if he had looked sad, or at least pensive, instead of jumping about merrily, and throwing himself into such grotesque and silly attitudes.

As for the old Sundial, who was an extremely remarkable individual, and had once told the time of day to no less a person than the Emperor Charles V himself, he was so taken aback by the little Dwarf's appearance, that he almost forgot to mark two whole minutes with his long shadowy finger, and could not help saying to the great milk-white Peacock, who was sunning herself on the balustrade, that everyone knew that the children of Kings were Kings, and that the children of charcoal-burners were charcoal-burners, and that it was absurd to pretend that it wasn't so; a statement with which the Peacock entirely agreed, and indeed screamed out, 'Certainly, certainly,' in such a loud, harsh voice, that the gold-fish who lived in the basin of the cool splashing fountain put their heads out of the water, and asked the huge stone Tritons what on earth was the matter.