All hail, Hunchmausen! Hail to thee Duke of Nussholz Pomme-Lesia!
The Horseman:
Really?
First Witch:
Yes, I just said, didn't I?
 |
'All hail ... oh come on, Mary - get
into the spirit of things!'
|
But it's all rather sudden.
First Witch:
The spirits spake unto me!
The Horseman:
Well, could they spake a bit more loudly? Could they spake, for example, about where this place is that I shall be Duke of?
Second Witch:
All hail, Hunchmausen! Hail to thee, Emperor of Fenwick!
The Horseman:
Hang on, hang on! I thought I was going to be Duke of Nussholz Whatever-Whatever.
Second Witch:
Hail to thee, Emperor of Fenwick!
The Horseman:
What, at the same time as being Duke of Nussholz? Or is there some notion of this being sequential?
Third Witch:
All hail, Hunchmausen! King of Gelderland thou shalt be!
The Horseman, choking:
What a what?
Third Witch:
King of Gelderland thou shalt be!
The Horseman:
Shalt I? How? A minute ago I was merely a duke. Are you sure?
First Witch:
Hail!
Second Witch:
Hail!
Third Witch:
Hail!
Fourth Witch:
Can I say "Hail" too?
First Witch:
Mary, stop improvising!
Fourth Witch:
But I never get any lines.
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'All ...' *cough* 'Glenda!' *cough*
'wardrobe malfunction!'
|
The Horseman:
King! King! And Gelderland - it is a rich and powerful kingdom?
Third Witch:
Have you ever been to Mittleheim before?
The Horseman:
No
Third Witch:
Then, yes it is.
The Horseman:
Huzzah! My fortunes have changed.
The horseman seems about to ride off eastwards in his enthusiasm, but then manages to check himself.
The Horseman:
You wouldn't, you know, be fibbing.
First Witch:
Oh no, no, no, no. That's not what we do. We foretell - we are the three witches of yore!
The Horseman:
Where's that? Also, counting your number, I can't help feeling that there might be some basic numerical challenges to your title of the three wi....
All:
Quick, let's go! Er ... Hail!
Exeunt
Munchausen is alone in the dark. He begins to whistle a jaunty tune. Waiting a moment, he then spurs his horse eastwards down the road. After a short while, he breaks out into song. Forward to adventure! Forward to Mittelheim and a kingdom of his own!
Behind him, the place where the baron halted is quiet. Then, from behind a bush Morag's voice hisses: 'Is he gone?'
'Yes,' replies Mary. 'The coast is clear.'
All four reappear from behind various pieces of vegetation.
Glenda says brightly 'You see: I told you it would be fun!'
From the west comes the sound of a cart. The unmistakable odour of pig farmer grows stronger as the sound gets nearer. As the farmer arrives, he stands back terrified as four dark apparitions appear in front of him. A wailing voice shouts out: 'All hail Herr Pig Farmer! Hail to thee Duke of Nussholz Pomme-Lesia!
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