“Is it you, Agaric? Get in! There are already three of us, but we can make room for you. You can take one of these young ladies on your knee.”
The pious Agaric got in.
“What news, worthy father?” asked the young prince.
“Great news,” answered Agaric. “Can I speak?”
“You can. I have nothing secret from these two ladies.”
“Sire, Penguinia claims you. You will not be deaf to her call.”
Agaric described the state of feeling and outlined a vast plot.
“On my first signal,” said he, “all your partisans will rise at once. With cross in hand and habits girded up, your venerable clergy will lead the armed crowd into Formose’s palace. We shall carry terror and death among your enemies. For a reward of our efforts we only ask of you, Sire, that you will not render them useless. We entreat you to come and seat yourself on the throne that we shall prepare.”
The prince returned a simple answer:
“I shall enter Alca on a green horse.”