'Um, yes,' said Agnes.
'Hah,' said Nanny Ogg, who could haughtily turn her back on people while looking them in the eye.
'And I am, I am, aaaa...' said the priest. He stopped, and pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Oh, I am sorry. The mountain air doesn't agree with me. I am the Quite Reverend Mightily Oats.'
'You are?' said Agnes. To her amazement, the man began to redden. The more she looked at him, the more she realized that he wasn't much older than she was.
'That is, Mightily-Praiseworthy-Are-Ye-Who-ExaltethOm Oats,' he said. 'It's much shorter in Omnian, of course. Have you by any chance heard the Word of Om?'
'Which one? "Fire"?' said Nanny Ogg. 'Hah!'
The nascent religious war was abruptly cut short by the first official royal fanfare to end with a few bars from the 'Hedgehog Cakewalk'. The royal couple began to descend the stairs.
'And we'll have none of your heathen ways, thank you very much,' muttered Nanny Ogg behind the pastor. 'No sloshing water or oil or sand around or cutting any bits off and if I hears a single word I understand, well, I'm standing behind you with a pointy stick.'[9]
From the other side he heard, 'He's not some kind of horrible inquisitor, Nanny!'
'But my pointy stick's still a pointy stick, my girl!'
What's got into her? Agnes thought, watching the pastor's ears turn red. That's the way Granny would act. Perdita added: Perhaps she thinks she's got to carry on like that because that old bat's not here yet.
Agnes was quite shocked at hearing herself think that.
'You do things our way here, all right?' said Nanny.
'The, um, King did explain it all to me, um,' said the pastor. 'Er, do you have anything for a headache. I'm afraid I-'
'You put the key in one hand and let her grip the crown with the other,' Nanny Ogg went on.
'Yes, um, he did-'
'Then you tell her what her name is and her mum's name and her dad's name, mumbling a bit over the latter if the mum ain't sure-'
'Nanny! This is royalty!'
'Hah, I could tell you stories, gel... and then, see, you give her to me and I tell her, too, and then I give her back and you tell the people what her name is, an' then you give her to me, and then I give her to her dad, and he takes her out through the doors and shows her to everyone, everyone throws their hats in the air and shouts "Hoorah!" and then it's all over bar the drinks and horses' doovers and findin' your own hat. Start extemporizin' on the subject of sin and it'll go hard with you.'
'What is, um, your role, madam?'
'I'm the godmother!'
'Which, um, god?' The young man was trembling slightly.
'It's from Old Lancre,' said Agnes hurriedly. 'It means something like "goodmother". It's all right... as witches we believe in religious toleration...'
'That's right,' said Nanny Ogg. 'But only for the right religions, so you watch your step!'
The royal parents had reached the thrones. Magrat took her seat and, to Agnes's amazement, gave her a sly wink.
Verence didn't wink. He stood there and coughed loudly.
'Ahem!'
'I've got a pastille somewhere,' said Nanny, her hand reaching towards her knickerleg.
'Ahem!' Verence's eyes darted towards his throne.
What had appeared to be a grey cushion rolled over, yawned, gave the King a brief glance, and started to wash itself.