Despereaux Book the Third

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Gregory: Back to the world of light.
Mig: Uncle, today I am seven years old.
Mig: No thank you Uncle, I don't.
Gregory: Most foolish, too foolish to be borne, a world without soup.
Mig: What do ye mean, aspirations?
Mig: I want to be a princess. I want to wear a crown.
Mig: Bless you! Bless you, bless you.
Mig: Gor! A servant I will be, not a slave.
Mig: Today, I am seven years old!
Louise: You must curtsy!
Roscuro: Ah, did he really? That is a terrible story, a tragic story.
Roscuro: It begins with yours truly, and the chewing of a rope.
Mig: I did. Only you didn't see. Someday, I will sit on a little white horse and wear a crown and wave. Someday, I will be a princess, too.
Uncle: But I paid for her fair and square with a good laying hen and a handful of cigarettes and a blood red tablecloth.
Roscuro: Yes, Your Highness.
Roscuro: Allow me to introduce myself. I am Chiaroscuro. Friends call me Roscuro. And your name is Miggery Sow. And it is true, is it not, that most people call you simply Mig?
Roscuro: Yes, yes, a lovely song. Just the song I have been waiting to hear.
Uncle: Ah, it's filthy. You'll have to be punished, won't ye?
Mig: Aye, I reckon so, I take the old man the tray and he eats what's on it and then I bring the tray back up. Empty it would be, then. I bring the empty tray back up from the deep downs.
Uncle: What are ye going on about?
Mig: Here, you forgot the bones.
Papa: Lord, child, and who is asking you what you want.
Roscuro: There is no need to panic, none at all.
King: Never mind. It is of no consequence.
Princess Pea: I am making a history of the world, my world, in tapestry. See? Here is my father, the king. And he is playing the guitar because that is something he loves to do and does quite well. And here is my mother, the queen, and she is eating soup because she loved soup.
Roscuro: May I tell you my plan? May I illustrate for you how we can make your dream of becoming a princess a reality?
Mig: Now, how did that go? Give the princess the thread and then give her a cursy? No, no, first the cursy and then the thread. That's it. Gor, that's right, that's the order. Start with the cursy and finish with the thread.
Uncle: Har. An ugly, dumb thing like you? You ain't even worth the enormous lot I paid for you. Don't I wish every night that I had back that good hen and that red tablecloth in place of you?
Uncle: Get out of my face before I give ye a good clout to the ear.
soldier: Ah, that, I am afraid, is against the law too; no human may own another in the Kingdom of Dor.
Cook: Of all the good-for-nothings I have encountered, surely you are the worst, the most cauliflower-eared, the good-for-nothing-est. There's only one place left for you. The dungeon.
Mig: but you're a rat, ain't you? And didn't the old man just warn me of such? Beware the rats, he said.
Princess Pea: Are you the new serving maid? Have you brought me my thread?
Roscuro: Perhaps it is time for you to make the acquaintance of triumph and glory.
Princess Pea: Did I wave to you?
Princess Pea: That's all right. It's the spirit of the thing that counts.
Mig: Gor, I aim to be a princess, too, someday.
Roscuro: You have known your share of tragedy.
Mig: Today is my birthday.
Princess Pea: How old were you when she died?
soldier: No matter, it is against the law to own another. Now, you will hand over to me, if you please, your spoons, your bowls, your kettle, and your girl. Or if you choose not to hand over these things, then you will come with me to be imprisoned in the castle dungeon. Which will it be?.
Mig: But I don't want to, Papa. I want to go with you.
Louise: You are not destined to be one of our star servants. That is already abundantly clear.
Roscuro: Aspirations, my dear, are those things that would make a serving girl wish to be a princess.
Roscuro: Miss Miggery, there is no need to shout. None at all. As you can hear me, so I can hear you. We two are perfectly suited, each to the other.
soldier: We will take you to the castle and they will set you up fine. You no longer will be a slave. You will be a paid servant.
soldier: Do you own a girl?
soldier: By royal order of the King Phillip. I am sent here to tell you that soup has been outlawed in the Kingdom of Dor. You will, by order of the king, never again consume soup. Nor will you think of it or talk about it. And I, as one of the king's loyal servants, am here to take from you your spoons, your kettle, and your bowls.
Uncle: Look at me, I'm a king. See my crown? I'm a king just like I always wanted to be. I'm a king because I want to be one.
Mig: Are you making a thing?
soldier: I am only doing my duty. Please hand over your spoons, your bowls, and your kettle.
Mother: Who is that? Who is that holding my hand?
Mig: I cleaned it. I cleaned it good.
Princess Pea: But I am a princess. And I waved to her. She should wave back.
soldier: Do you have parents? I will return you to them.
soldier: Right. I'll take you to the castle then.
Papa: Go on, Mig. You belong to that man now.
Mig: Maybe, the princess ain't to home.
Uncle: We will hear no more talk of princesses. Besides, who ever asked you what you wanted in this world, girl?
soldier: You will be a servant! Not a slave!
Mig: I'm happy to be going.
Mig: look at them things, I ain't never imagined there could be so many spoons in the whole wide world.
Cook: Seems simple, don't it? But I'm sure you'll find a way to bungle it.
Mig: You eats the bones. You are most ferocious.
Mig: I saw them all glittering and glowing, and there was a little princess wearing her own crown and riding on a little white tippy-toed horse.
Uncle: And wouldn't that be lovely, if we could afford to eat cake.
Roscuro: May I detain you for a moment?
Mig: I ain't seen him since he sold me.
Uncle: Did I ask ye how old you were today?
Uncle: I thought I told you to clean the kettle
soldier: To the castle! I'll take you to the castle.
Roscuro: There is, my dear, a way to make that happen. I believe there is a way to make that dream come true.
Princess Pea: Papa, what is wrong with the girl? She will not wave to me.
Mig: Soup! Gor! That's against the law.
Uncle: She wants to wear a crown.
Uncle: I wish it every night. That tablecloth was the color of blood. That hen could lay eggs like nobody's business.
Mig: Miggery. Miggery Sow, but most just calls me Mig. And I saw you once before, Princess. You passed me by on a little white horse. On my birthday, it was, and I was in the field with Uncle's sheep and it was sunset time.
Cook: Listen, you cauliflower-eared fool! This is what you do. You take the tray of food down to the dungeon and you wait for the old man to eat the food and then you bring the tray back up. Do you think that you can manage that?
Mig: I saw a king and a queen and a itty-bitty princess.
Princess Pea: No No, how old. How old were you?
Mother: Ah, child, let me go.
Mig: The castle? Where the itty-bitty princess lives?
soldier: That's a fine dream.
Roscuro: Miss Miggery, my dear, I do not want to appear too forward so early in our acquaintance, but may I inquire, am I right in ascertaining that you have aspirations?
Gregory: So you aim to be a princess. Well, everyone has a foolish dream. Gregory, for instance, dreams of a world where soup is legal. And that rat, Gregory is sure, has some foolish dream too.
Gregory: There is more to this world than anyone could imagine.
Mig: Gor, it's me. Miggery Sow, most calls me Mig, delivering your food! Come and get it, Mr. Deep Downs!
Mig: Gor, you want me to paddle?
Princess Pea: Yes, my father outlawed it because my mother died while she was eating it.
Mig: My papa had some cloth much like yours, Mr. Rat. Red like that. He traded me for it.
Mig: Cursy I must!
Mig: Yes it is Mig, but if I was a princess, I would be so glittery lightlike, there wouldn't be a place in the world that was dark to me.
soldier: Cake, with a fork.
Uncle: Are ye saying that I'm a liar, girl?
Mig: Ain't that the thing. My ma is dead, too.
Princess Pea: Yes. She died just last month.
Mig: But I want you to stay here.
Louise: How long did it take you to deliver a spool of thread to the princess?
Gregory: Not forgotten. Chewed.
Uncle: I do. A worthless one, but still, she is mine.
Mig: I saw some human stars today.
Roscuro: Yes, your most royal Princess Pea
Princess Pea: Thank you so much, I cannot seem to hold on to a spool of red thread. Every one I have disappears somehow.
Cook: You are being sent to the dungeon. You are to take the jailer his noonday meal. That will be your duty from now on.
Roscuro: How do you do?
Mig: You meant that I could be the Princess Pea?
Uncle: Do you want a good clout to the ear, then?
Louise: Mind, she is royalty, so you must make sure you curtsy.
Mig: Whoopsie.
Mig: Here I am, off to see the princess. Me, Miggery Sow, seing the princess up close and personal-like. And first off, I must cursy because she is the royalty.
soldier: Might just as well be happy, seeing as it doesn't make a difference to anyone but you if you are or not.
Mig: Ma, couldn't you stay here with me?
People of the castle: It's only the wind, nothing but the wind. (pg. 154).
Uncle: Unbelievable! I suppose next the king will be wanting my sheep and my girl, seeing as those are the only possessions I have left.
Princess Pea: So am I. We're the same age. What is your name?
Mig: Gor, Uncle, I cleaned the kettle.
Mig: Done are you? Then the tray goes back upstairs. Cook says it must. You take the tray to the deep downs, you wait for the old man to eat, and then you bring the tray back. Them's my instructions.
Mother: Ah, child, and what does it matter what you are wanting?
Mig: Gor, I would like to see that little princess another time, wouldn't I? And her little pony, too, with his tippy-toed feet.
Roscuro: Warn her all you like, old man. My hour has arrived. The time is now and your rope must break. No nib-nib-nibbling this time, rather a serious chew that will break it in two. Yes, it is all coming clear. Revenge is at hand.
Mig: I would like . . . I wish to be one of the princesses.
Mig: Ain't that the thing? A rat who knows my name!
Cook: What's to become of someone who goes into the dungeon smiling, I ask you?
Roscuro: True, true. The old jailer speaks true.
Mig: a rat with manners
Gregory: Did they instruct you, too, to beware of the rats?
Mig: Bold was I?
Uncle: What'll we eat? And what'll we eat it with?

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Deck Info

Number of cards 128