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He was aware that now the soldiers were giving him odd looks as well。 He coughed and pulled himself together。
'Very well then； my theatrical witches；' he said。 'You've done your show； and now it's time for your applause。' He nodded to his men。
'Clap them in chains；' he said。
Three other witches sat in the gloom behind the stage； staring vacantly into the darkness。 Granny Weatherwax had picked up a copy of the script； which she peered at from time to time； as if seeking ideas。
' 〃Divers alarums and excursions〃；' she read； uncertainly。
'That means lots of terrible happenings；' said Magrat。 'You always put that in plays。'
'Alarums and what？' said Nanny Ogg； who hadn't been listening。
'Excursions；' said Magrat patiently。
'Oh。' Nanny Ogg brightened a bit。 'The seaside would be nice；' she said。
'Do shut up； Gytha；' said Granny Weatherwax。 'They're not for you。 They're only for divers； like it says。 Probably so they can recover from all them alarums。'
'We can't let this happen；' said Magrat； quickly and loudly。 'If this gets about； witches'll always be old hags with green blusher。'
'And meddlin' in the affairs of kings；' said Nanny。 'Which we never do； as is well known。'
'It's not the meddlin' I object to；' said Granny Weatherwax； her chin on her hand。 'It's the evil meddling。'
'And the unkindness to animals；' muttered Magrat。 'All that stuff about eye of dog and ear of toad。 No…one uses that kind of stuff。'
Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg carefully avoided one another's faces。
'Drabe！' said Nanny Ogg bitterly。
'Witches just aren't like that；' said Magrat。 'We live in harmony with the great cycles of Nature； and do no harm to anyone； and it's wicked of them to say we don't。 We ought to fill their bones with hot lead。'
The other two looked at her with a certain amount of surprised admiration。 She blushed； although not greenly； and looked at her knees。
'Goodie Whemper did a recipe；' she confessed。 'It's quite easy。 What you do is； you get some lead； and you…'
'I don't think that would be appropriate；' said Granny carefully； after a certain amount of internal struggle。 'It could give people the wrong idea。'
'But not for long；' said Nanny wistfully。
'No； we can't be having with that sort of thing；' said Granny； a little more firmly this time。 'We'd never hear the last of it。'
'Why don't we just change the words？' said Magrat。 'When they e back on stage we could just put the 'fluence on them so they forget what they're saying； and give them some new words。'
'I suppose you're an expert at theatre words？' said Granny sarcastically。 'They'd have to be the proper sort； otherwise people would suspect。'
'Shouldn't be too difficult；' said Nanny Ogg dismissively。 'I've been studyin' it。 You go tumpty…tumpty…tumpty。'
Granny gave this some consideration。
'There's more to it than that； I believe；' she said。 'Some of those speeches were very good。 I couldn't understand hardly any of it。'
'There's no trick to it at all；' Nanny Ogg insisted。 'Anyway； half of them are forgetting their lines as it is。 It'll be easy。'
'We could put words in their mouths？' said Magrat。
Nanny Ogg nodded。 'I don't know about new words；' she said。 'But we can make them forget these words。'
They both looked at Granny Weatherwax。 She shrugged。
'I suppose it's worth a try；' she conceded。
'Witches as yet unborn will thank us for it；' said Magrat ardently。
'Oh； good；' said Granny。
'At last！ What are you three playing at？ We've been looking for you everywhere！'
The witches turned to see an irate dwarf trying to loom over them。
'Us？' said Magrat。 'But we're not in…'
'Oh yes you are； remember； we put it in last week。 Act Two； Downstage； around the cauldron。 You haven't got to say anything。 You're symbolising occult forces at work。 Just be as wicked as you can。 e on； there's good lads。 You've done well so far。'
Hwel slapped Magrat on the bottom。 'Good plexion you've got mere； Wilph；' he said encouragingly。 'But for goodness' sake use a bit more padding； you're still the wrong shape。 Fine warts there； Billem。 I must say；' he added； standing back； 'you look as nasty a bunch of hags as a body might hope to clap eyes on。 Well done。 Shame about the wigs。 Now run along。 Curtain up in one minute。 Break a leg。'
He gave Magrat another ringing slap on her rump； slightly hurting his hand； and hurried off to shout at someone else。
None of the witches dared to speak。 Magrat and Nanny Ogg found themselves instinctively turning towards Granny。
She sniffed。 She looked up。 She looked around。 She looked at the brightly lit stage behind her。 She brought her hands together with a clap that echoed around the castle； and then rubbed them together。
'Useful；' she said grimly。 'Let's do the show right here。' Nanny squinted sullenly after Hwel。 'Break your own leg；' she muttered。
Hwel stood in the wings and gave the signal for the curtains。 And for the thunder。
It didn't e。
'Thunder！' he hissed； in a voice heard by half the audience。 'Get on with it！'
A voice from behind the nearest pillar wailed； 'I went and bent the thunder； Hwel！ It just goes clonk…clonk！'
Hwel stood silent for a moment； counting。 The pany watched him； awestruck but not； unfortunately； thunderstruck。
At last he raised his fists to the open sky and said； 'I wanted a storm！ Just a storm。 Not even a big storm。 Any storm。 Now I want to make myself absolutely CLEAR！ I have had ENOUGH！ I want thunder right NOW！'
The stab of lightning that answered him turned the multi…hued shadows of the castle into blinding white and searing black。 It was followed by a roll of thunder； on cue。
It was the loudest noise Hwel had ever heard。 It seemed to start inside his head and work its way outwards。
It went on and on； shaking every stone in the castle。 Dust rained down。 A distant turret broke away with balletic slowness and； tumbling end over end； dropped gently into the hungry depths of the gorge。
When it finished it left a silence that rang like a bell。
Hwel looked up at the sky。 Great black clouds were blowing across the castle； blotting out the stars。
The storm was back。
It had spent ages learning its craft。 It had spent years lurking in distant valleys。 It had practised for hours in front of a glacier。 It had studied the great storms of the past。 It had honed its art to perfection。 And now； tonight； with what it could see was clearly an appreciative audience waiting for it； it was going to take them by； well 。 。 。 tempest。
Hwel smiled。 Perhaps the gods did listen； after all。 He wished he'd asked for a really good wind machine as well。
He gestured frantically at Tomjon。
'Get on with it！'
The boy nodded； and launched into his main speech。
'And now our domination is plete…'
Behind him on the stage the witches bent over the cauldron。
'It's just tin； this one；' hissed Nanny。 'And it's full of all yuk。'
'And the fire is just red paper；' whispered Magrat。 'It looked so real from up there； it's just red paper！ Look； you can poke it…'
'Never mind；' said Granny。 'Just look busy； and wait until I say。'
As the Evil King and the Good Duke began the exchange that was going to l