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our little scheme fulfills its purpose, without mistakes or inconvenience. In
due course- A sudden tumult from across the meadow attracted his attention.
He spoke in amazement.  Can it be? Shemus and Womin, both officials of high
degree, are at odds!
King Throbius marched off across the meadow, so swiftly that the implets who
carried his train were jerked from their feet and swept through the air.
King Throbius went to where a long table had been set with a variety of fine
comestibles: ichors and wines in quaint glass bottles; pastries flavored with
milkweed cream and the pollen of daffodil, buttercup and crocus; tarts of
currants both black and red; candied crab apples and jellies; the crystallized
nectars of sweetbriar, rose and violet. Beside the table an altercation had
suddenly been transformed into a confusion of shouts, blows and curses. The
parties at contention were Womin, Registrar of Rightnesses, and Shemus,
Conductor of Rituals. Shemus had seized Womin s beard with one hand and was
beating him over the head with a wooden mug, from which he had been drinking
parsnip ale.
King Throbius spoke sharply:  Why this sordid moil? It is shameful conduct on
a day of such happiness!
Shemus cried out in a passion:  I would agree in all respects, Your Highness,
had I not suffered an abominable affront from this rat-fanged old scavenger!
 What are the facts? Describe your complaint!
 Gladly! This degenerate registrar thought to work a vulgar prank upon me!
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When I turned away for a moment, he dropped his foul stocking into my mug of
parsnip ale.
King Throbius turned to Womin.  And what was your motive?
 I had no motive!
 None?
 None! For this reason: I was not a party to the deed! The accusation is a
canard! Yonder sits
Falael, who witnessed the whole episode; he will attest to my innocence!
King Throbius swung about.  Well then, Falael: let us hear your testimony.
 I was weaving a daisy chain, said Falael.  My attention was fixed upon my
work; I saw nothing germane to the case.
 Nonetheless, I am guiltless, declared Womin.  In view of my reputation, only
a person with pot cheese for brains could think otherwise.
 Not so! stormed Shemus.  If you are innocent, why are you wearing a single
stocking? Why does the stocking I found in my ale show the same puce color as
that on your leg?
 It is a mystery! stated Womin.  Your Highness, hear me out! The party at
fault is this ale-
swilling old toad, who stands here fulminating like a mad thing! He struck me
several stout blows, meanwhile drenching my stocking in his revolting tipple,
into which he had undoubtedly snuffled and sniffed.
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Shemus jumped up and down in fury.  That remark is a further provocation,
worth at least two more blows! Shemus would have chastised Womin further had
not King Throbius stepped forward.
 Desist from this folly! Evidently a mistake has been made; let us carry the
case no further!
Womin and Shemus turned their backs on each other and peace was restored. King
Throbius returned across the meadow. He spoke to Madouc.  I will bid you
farewell, for the nonce. When you return with your three gentlemen-in-waiting,
as we must call them, then we shall prove identities to your full
satisfaction, and you will know your pedigree.
Sir Pom-Pom could no longer restrain his own urgencies.  Please, Your
Highness! I too need instruction! How shall I find the Holy Grail?
King Throbius looked in puzzlement to Twisk.  What might be the  Holy Grail ?
 I have heard mention of the object, Your Highness. Long ago Sir Pellinore
spoke of such an article. I believe it to be a cup, or something of the sort.
 It is a chalice sacred to the Christians, said Sir Pom-Pom.  I am anxious to
find it, that I may earn a royal boon. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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