"Your pulse is regular and strong, sire; let us get home!"
"I will eat at your house; you only can prepare food properly; all
the rest spoil it with their everlasting condiments; they spice all
my dishes, and the spices are bad. Jacob, help me to get away from
here--help me. Did you see the star last night? Is there anything
new in the sky? There is certain a comet approaching. I feel it
before it comes."
"No, sire; no comet is approaching...."
"Do you answer impertinently? Then you believe I am sick--perhaps
incurably."
"No, sire, you are healthier than ever; but follow me--I will make
you a bed, and prepare you a meal."
The King rose and followed the Doctor. The latter, however, wished
the monarch to go before him but the King mistrusted his only last
friend, who certainly did not love him, and would have gladly seen
him dead.
"Beware of the seats, sire," he cried. "Do not go too near to the
hedge; keep in the middle of the path."
"Your seats themselves should.... Forgive me my sins." He crossed
himself.
When they came out of the labyrinth, the King fell in a rage at the
recollection of what he had suffered, and, instead of being grateful
towards his rescuer, he burst into abuse: "How could you let me go
astray in your garden, and let me sleep on the bare ground in the
open air? You are an ass.
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