“The breath of life has come into him and puffed him out,” I answered.
“His eyes are not as his eyes were,” she said again. “Now they are big and black, like the eyes of the king.”
“My spirit looked upon his eyes and made them beautiful,” I answered.
“This child has a birth-mark on his thigh,” she said a third time. “That which I gave you had no mark.”
“I laid my medicine there,” I answered.
“It is not the same child,” she said sullenly. “It is a changeling who will lay ill-luck at our doors.”
Then I rose up in my rage and cursed her heavily, for I saw that if she was not stopped this woman’s tongue would bring us all to ruin.
“Peace, witch!” I cried. “How dare you to speak thus from a lying heart? Do you wish to draw down a curse upon our roof? Would you make us all food for the king’s spear? Say such words again, and you shall sit within the circle—the Ingomboco shall know you for a witch!”
So I stormed on, threatening to bring her to death, till at length she grew fearful, and fell at my feet praying for mercy and forgiveness. But I was much afraid because of this woman’s tongue, and not without reason.