Jean Fragonard The Stolen KissJean Fragonard The Love LetterJean Fragonard The BoltJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida The Two SistersJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Maria
'And I beg you, Granny Weatherwax, to restore my son to the throne.'
'Restore?'
'You know what I mean. He is in good health?'
Granny nodded. 'The last time we Looked at him, he was eating an apple,' she said.
'It is his destiny to be King of Lancre!'
'Yes, well. Destiny is tricky, you know,' said Granny.
'You will not help?'
Granny looked wretched. 'It's meddling, you see,' she said. 'It always goes wrong if you meddle in politics. Like, once you start, you can't stop. Fundamental rule of magic, is that. You can't go around messing with fundamental rules.'
'You're not going to help?'
'Well . . . naturally, one day, when your lad is a bit older . . .'
'Where is he Granny. She turned back to the ghost of the king. 'Sorry about that, your majesty. It'snow?' said the king, coldly.The witches avoided one another's faces.'We saw him safe out of the country, you see,' said Granny awkwardly.'Very good family,' Nanny Ogg put in quickly.'What kind of people?' said the king. 'Not commoners, I trust?''Absolutely not,' said Granny with considerable firmness as a vision of Vitoller floated across her imagination. 'Not common at all. Very uncommon. Er.'Her eyes implored Magrat for help.They were Thespians,' said Magrat firmly, her voice radiating such approval that the king found himself nodding automatically.'Oh,' he said. 'Good.''Were they?' whispered Nanny Ogg. 'They didn't look it.''Don't show your ignorance, Gytha Ogg,' sniffed just her showing off. She don't even know where Thespia is.'
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