‘My lords, the case is very clear. You have each of you offended against the law by congratulating the Princess, and as one of you, if not both, intends to marry my daughter and become King, it is as well to teach you from the beginning that the law must be abided by. Therefore, you will be ducked—“submerged,” the notice says—until one of you expires; the other will then marry Ernalie, and in course of time—if he does not die of the effects in the meantime—he will ascend the throne, having learnt a useful lesson.’
As the Dukes got greener and greener at this, the King went on:
‘The sentence had better be executed at once, so come along to the courtyard.’
‘But, your Majesty,’ said one of them, ‘I am subject to rheumatism, and I should not be fit to reign if this immersion in cold water should make it so bad that I was unable to move.’
‘That’s just the case with me,’ said the other.
‘Ah, well, if that is so,’ said the King, ‘perhaps you would like to give up your pretensions to my daughter’s hand. In that case, I should let you off, because there would be no need to give you such a practical exemplification of the majesty of the law.’
The Dukes looked perplexedly at one another.
‘I think,’ said one of them, ‘that, under the circumstances, I will give up my pretensions to the Princess’s hand.’
Here he looked regretfully at her right hand.
‘And I too,’ said the other sadly, looking at her left hand.