"I am witness," the King promptly replied.
"Enough! The law is fulfilled," intoned the Church. "Name thou the man!"
"Name thou the man, Teskla," adjured the King.
But the Princess was crying bitterly and wringing her hands. She fell upon her knees at her father's feet.
"I cannot! Oh, my father, I cannot! I cannot!" she wept.
The King shook her roughly by the arm and reiterated his command. Seeing no way out of her dilemma, the Princess brushed away her tears and stood upon her feet. She looked imploringly at Nicholas, who bit his lip and frowned. He could not, or would not, help her and, when she realized that she stood alone, her look of fear returned. Then she turned toward the kneeling Prince behind the altar and seemed to make up her mind. She lacked the courage to tell her father the truth. She determined to travel along the line of least resistance, trusting to the future to come to her aid. Her little white "lie" had assumed Brobdingnagian proportions.
"Speak, I command thee!" called the Patriarch, wearying of the delay.
"Teskla!" warned her father in a voice that made her tremble.
She straightened herself with an effort to her full handsome height and, pointing an accusing finger at the Prince, cried:
"Thou art the man!"