The poor General stood holding out the slender weapon, and feeling very foolish, which indeed was no more than he looked. It was a situation of extreme sweetness to Turbo, and the King tried hastily to end it.
"Chancellor," said he peremptorily, "take your sword. It is I, the King, who command you."
"With great submission to your majesty," answered Turbo, without moving, "you have no power to command this."
"Why, what folly is this?" cried the King. "It is I who took away your liberty, and it is I who have power to give it back."
"Your majesty will pardon me," said Turbo. "You had power to arrest me. You have exercised that power, and there your prerogative ends. I am now in the bosom of the law, which is above your majesty, nor can you take me from it without its consent or mine. If I have contravened any term of the Social Contract, by my arrest you have invoked the jurisdiction by which alone such breaches may be considered. We are King and subject no longer. We are parties to a suit. The tribunal of eternal justice stands between us, and to that I appeal."
"General Dolabella!" exclaimed the King abruptly, "have the kindness to leave us for a few minutes."
The General retired, and master and pupil were left confronting each other, like gladiators seeking for a favourable moment to close.
"What do you mean by all this?" asked the King, in a low, calm voice. "Just now you wished to save us all from having this miserable business brought to light."
"And I am still willing to do so," answered Turbo.
"Then why refuse to receive your sword?" asked Kophetua. "Why all this nonsense about demanding a trial?"