"Stop!" cried Van Swieten. "Peter Buyskens is come in the nick of time. He knows father and daughter both. They cast their glamour on him."
"What is she a witch, too?"
"Else the egg takes not after the bird. Why is her father called the magician? I tell you they bewitched this very Peter here; they cast unholy spells on him, and cured him of the colic: now, Peter, look and tell me who is that? and you be silent, women, for a moment, if you can; who is it, Peter?"
"Well to be sure!" said Peter in reply: and his eye seemed fascinated by the picture.
"Who is it?" repeated Ghysbrecht, impetuously.
Peter Buyskens smiled. "Why you know as well as I do; but what have they put a crown on her for, I never saw her in a crown, for my part."
"Man alive! Can't you open your great jaws, and just speak a wench's name plain out to oblige three people?"
"I'd do a great deal more to oblige one of you than that, burgomaster. If it isn't as natural as life!"
"Curse the man! he won't, he won't—curse him!"
"Why, what have I done, now?"