tard! Here, Fiddle, here's sport for you. Get the black mantle.
- [From the chest, Fiddle whisks a large black cloth embroidered with strange looking symbols, and advances toward the Queen.
The Queen. What is he going to do?
The Witch. Wrap you up so that you can't scratch while I pour this down your throat.
The Queen. But I'm not ready! I must go home first!
- [She makes a dash for the door, but Fiddle is before her. Then begins a lively chase about the cave, the Queen running and dodging, Fiddle following and trying to throw the black mantle over her head. The Witch enjoys it all hugely, crying, "Run, Brangomar!" "Catch her, Fiddle!" and slappig her old knees with delight till she is quite out of breath. At last Fiddle succeeds
