'And here is the Archbishop, at your service,' said one of the persons in the white dominoes, making a bow.
'That won't do,' said Yellow-cap sharply. 'You are the Prime Maniac—only you have shaved your moustachios.'
'That makes all the difference, please your Highness,' replied the other humbly.
'And now I look at you again,' continued Yellow-cap, 'I think I remember you before you were a Prime Maniac. I remember you when you were only three feet high.'
'It is all the same,' answered the other again. 'I rise to the occasion.'
'Well, it makes no difference, I suppose,' said Yellow-cap, after a pause, bestriding the donkey's back. 'Now for the crown!'
King Ormund took the crown from his brow and handed it to the Archbishop, who put it on Yellow-cap's head, over the yellow cap. Then all the courtiers round about murmured their congratulations, the audience that filled the theatre shouted 'Hooray!' and 'Encore!' the ex-King clapped him on the shoulder and said, 'Bless you, my boy!' and Silvia whispered in his ear, 'Now you are King!'
'Long live King Yellow-cap!' roared everybody.
'How do you like it?' asked Ormund pleasantly.
'I feel about as I did before,' replied the new King, in a slightly disappointed tone. 'How much does this crown weigh? Haven't you a lighter one?'