People disperse. The joke is done. The Stranger turns to leave. Jack’s sisters follow him. They are scheming for another coin.
Stranger (walking away, yells over his shoulder): On your travels, beggar-boy, look smart to the Crossroads.
Jack (sighs): Alas, my sisters say I am not smart.
Then it is but the boy Jack, the Wise Man, and high in a blooming linden tree, the Golden Bird.
Jack (in a small voice): Did a King ever speak to you, Wise Man?
Wise Man: Aye, indeed.
Jack: What did this monarch say?
Wise Man (a blind smile): His words to me were plain. — ‘Be on your way, Father. I am King now.’