And the judge said, "Yours is a bad defense;" and he sentenced him to be hanged as a highway robber.
As they led him away to the gallows, the gipsy bawled after him, triumphantly, "You worthless fellow! you catgut-scraper! now you will receive your reward!"
The boy quietly ascended the ladder with the hangman, but, on the last step, he turned and begged the judge to grant him one favor before he died.
"I will grant it," replied the judge, "on condition that you do not ask for your life."
"I ask not for my life," said the boy, "but to be permitted to play once more on my beloved fiddle!"
"Do not let him, do not let him," screamed the ragged rogue.
"Why should I not allow him to enjoy this one short pleasure?" said the judge; "I have granted it already; he shall have his wish!"
"Tie me fast! bind me down!" cried the gipsy.
The fiddle-player began; at the first stroke every one became unsteady—judge, clerks, and bystanders tottered—and the rope fell from the hands of those who were tying down the tatterdemalion; at the second, they all raised one leg, and the hangman let go his prisoner, and made ready for the dance; at the third, all sprang into the air; the judge and the accuser were foremost, and leaped the highest. Every one danced, old and young, fat and lean; even the dogs got on their hind-legs, and hopped! Faster and faster went the fiddle, and higher and higher jumped the dancers, until at last, in their fury, they kicked and screamed most dismally. Then the judge gasped:
"Cease playing, and I will give you your life!"