“Give her some cakes and send her off!” cried the king with a frown.
“But she will not go till she has had converse with the princess.”
“I will go to her,” said Hafrydda, rising.
“Ay, go, my girl, and if thy sweet tongue fails to prevail, stuff her mouth with meat and drink till she is too stout to walk. Come, my queen, what have we this morning for breakfast? The very talking of meat makes me hungry.”
At this juncture several dogs burst into the room and gambolled with their royal master, as with one who is a familiar friend.
When the princess reached the outer door she found the woman standing, and evidently in a rage.
“Is this the way King Hudibras teaches his varlets to behave to poor people who are better than themselves?”
“Forgive them, granny,” said the princess, who was inclined to laugh, but strove to keep her gravity, “they are but stupid rogues at worst.”
“Nay, but they are sly rogues at best!” retorted the old woman. “The first that came, took me for a witch, and was moderately civil, but the second took away my stool and threatened to set the dogs at me.”
“If this be so, I will have him cow-hided; but tell me—what would you with me? Can I help you? Is it food that you want, or rest?”