- in cornering Queen Brangomar, and throws the mantle over her head.
The Witch. [Breathless.] Well don, Fiddle, well done! Trip her up and sit on her.
- [Fiddle does so. The Witch also sits down on the squirming Queen, and humming happily to herself pours out a tablespoonful of the green mixture.
The Witch. Now, where is her mouth?
The Queen. [In a smothered voice.] I won't take it! I won't!
The Witch. Oh, there it is! Thank you, Brangomar. [She pours the dose through the cloth into the Queen's mouth, and as the Queen writhes she goes on.] I know it tastes bad, but nothing to make such a fuss about. [Suddenly she holds up a warning finger.] I feel her changing! Do you? [Fiddle nods.] Done! Up with her, off with the mantle, and let's see the result.
- [Fiddle draws off the mantle. Lo! the Queen has been transformed into the
