THE KING. Thou art speaking now in riddles. I do not like riddles. They confuse my brain.
THE SERVANT. Behold, O king, if I speak in riddles it is because a riddle has come to pass.
(THE BEGGAR'S voice suddenly cries out loudly.)
THE BEGGAR (outside). Bread. Bread. Give me some bread.
THE KING. Ah! He is crying out again. His voice seems to me louder than it was before.
THE SERVANT. Hunger is as food to the lungs, O king.
THE KING. His lungs I will wager are well fed. Ha, ha!
THE SERVANT. But alas! his stomach is quite empty.
THE KING. That is not my business.
THE SERVANT. Should I not perhaps fling him a crust from the window?