Now when the Princess beheld our Johnny, and the landlord’s three daughters, and the fat Vicar, and the thin Beadle, and the two Curates, and the Organist, the violin-player, the man with the comet, and all the wicked little choir-boys, all stuck fast together, and all treading on each other’s heels, she fell into such convulsions of laughter that she dropped into the Queen’s arms, and chuckled till she was nearly dead.
The King, wild with delight, threw his royal arms around the neck of our Johnny, shouting, ‘Take her, you dog; she is yours, my bonny boy!’ and all the courtiers, falling on each other’s breasts, cried
Hooray, hooray,
She’s laughed to-day!
[Original]
But our Johnny moved on, quite grave, to the altar of Saint Calixtus, and there he laid the golden goose, after which all the people who followed him were able to get free. The charm was broken.
