Kálmán Mikszáth

“ Neither Kabul nor Niles knew the King.
“Ungrateful men!” he raged. “Where is the mistress? Where is Florilla? She will recognize me.”
At this moment the herald of the King came out. Upon his lifted spear he bore a head—the head of Florilla.
She could recognize him no more. She was silent forever. The golden hair fluttered about the beautiful head, and covered part of the long spear. The people shouted with joy. The King sorrowfully demanded who had done this. ”

“ I will kill you upon the instant if you do not obey me. So you can see you can win both time and money.”
The watchman agreed. Rogus, who had long suspected something, put on the watchman’s clothes and followed the King. Before him, too, the lilies bent their heads. The roses strewed fragrant leaves, and the azaleas whispered the name, Florilla. But Rogus stepped upon them and crushed them. A secret gate, to which King Morus had the key, led from the garden to the shore of the Nile, along which were pleasure palaces. ”

“ Within the palace all were wondering where the King was going. The Minister whispered to his son: “He is carrying someone’s head in his pocket.”
Rogus, frightened, felt for his own head. He found it just where it always was, upon his neck, between his two shoulders.
He spoke at once to the watchman who stood by the garden gate:
“Here is a purse of gold. Exchange clothes with me, and let me into the garden.”
The watchman refused. “I can not. The King would cut my head off when he returns.”
“You are an ass,” replied Rogus. “The King can not kill you until he comes back. ”