2nd Prince:  That is kept in the Courthouse.

Ogre:  That’s right ...in what part of it?

3rd Prince:  What do you want it for?

Ogre:  I have it in my mind this long time to get and to keep it in my cave under ground, along with the rest of my treasures that are in charge of my two enchanted cats.  I have had near enough of grubbing for gold with a pick in the clefts and crannies of the earth.  It is time for me to find some rest, and get into my hand what is ready worked and smelted and purified.  We are going to that Courthouse to-night.  If we cannot get in at the door, I will put ye in at the window and ye can open the door to myself.  I will find out where the sword is, and away with us, and it in my hand.

4th Prince:  But that would be stealing.

Ogre:  What else would it be?

4th Prince:  But that is wrong.  It is against the law.

Ogre:  The law!  That is the Judge’s trade.  Breaking it is mine.

5th Prince:  Ask him for it and maybe he will give it to you, he is so kind.

Ogre:  I’ll take no charity!  What I get I’ll earn by taking it.  I would feel no pleasure it being given to me, any more than a huntsman would take pleasure being made a present of a dead fox, in place of getting a run across country after it.  Come on now!  We’ll have the moon wasted.  We’ll hardly get there before the dawn of day.

1st Prince:  Whatever time you get there the Guardian will be awake.  There is a cock of Denmark perched on the curtain rod of his bed, specially to waken him if there is any stir.

Ogre:  There is, is there?  What a fool you think me to be.  Do you see that pot?

2nd Prince:  We do see it.

Ogre:  Look what there is in it.

3rd Prince:  Nothing but a few bare bones.

Ogre:  Well, that is all that is left of the Judge’s cock of Denmark, that was brought to me awhile ago by a fox that is my messenger, and that I have boiled and ate and devoured.

All the Princes:  O!  O!  O!

Ogre:  (Cracking his whip.) He was boiled in the little pot.  Come on now and lead the way, or I give you my word it is in the big pot your own bones will be making broth for my breakfast in the morning! (Cracks whip.) Now, right about face!  Quick march!

CURTAIN

SCENE II

(The Winter Garden, evening.  The Servant settling benches and a table.)

Guardian:  (Coming in.) Are the Dowager Messengers come?  They are late.

Servant: They are come.  They are at the looking-glasses settling themselves.

Guardian: As soon as they are ready you will call in the Princes for their examination before them, and their tasks.