"Bring in Prospero," the First Fat Man said again.
The State Councillor left.
The servants who stood in two lines moved apart and bowed.
The two lines became twice as low.
The gluttons were silent.
"He's terrible," the Second Fat Man said. "He's stronger than anyone else.
He's stronger than a lion, and his eyes burn with such hatred you can't even look him in the eye."
"He has a frightful head," said the Secretary of the State Council. "It's huge.
It looks like the top of a column.
His hair's red.
It looks as if it's on fire."
Now, when the conversation had turned to Prospero the Gunsmith, a change came over the gluttons.
They stopped eating, joking and making merry. They pulled in their stomachs, and some even turned pale.
Many were sorry they had said they wanted to see Prospero.
The Three Fat Men became very serious. They seemed to have grown a little thinner.
Suddenly, the hall fell silent.
Each of the Three Fat Men tried to hide behind the others.
Prospero the Gunsmith was brought in.
First came the State Councillor.
Then came Guards on either side of the prisoner.
They did not take off their black oilskin hats when they came in and their swords were bared.
There was a clanging of chains.
The gunsmith's hands were shackled.
He was led up to the table.
He stopped a few steps from the Three Fat Men.
Prospero's head was bowed.
He was pale.
There was dried blood on his forehead and temples under his tangled red hair.
Then he lifted his head and looked at the Three Fat Men.
Everyone sitting near by jerked back.
"Why did you bring him here?" one of the guests shouted.
It was the richest miller in the country. "He frightens me!"
With these words the miller fainted, falling face down in the fruit sauce.
Some of the guests rushed towards the doors.
No one was paying any attention to the cake now.
"What do you want?" Prospero asked.
The First Fat Man took a deep breath and said:
"We wanted to see what you were like. Don't you care to have a look at those who've captured you?"
"It's disgusting to look at you."
"Don't worry, we'll soon chop off your head and save you the bother of looking at us."
"I'm not afraid of you.
I only have one head.
But the people have thousands of heads.
You can't chop all of them off."
"The executions on Court Square will soon begin.
The executioners will take care of your comrades."
The gluttons chuckled.
The miller came to his senses and licked the fruit sauce off his nose.
"Your brains are covered with fat," Prospero said. "You can't see farther than your fat stomachs."
"Well, what do you know!" the Second Fat Man said crossly. "And what are we supposed to see?"