The history of her struggle against the wicked Duke of Dallas moved him; he wove new details of his own into it, and before Ma knew it he was actually playing the part of the duke.
The duke, it appeared, was a hard and haughty man, but at heart he was not all bad; when he had listened to the story of his victim's wrongs and more fully appreciated the courage, the devotion of her doughty followers, he was touched.

For her sake, and theirs, he proposed a truce to this ruinous struggle.

What kind of a truce?
Well, he refused entirely to renounce his claim to the throne, but--they might share it.
He was a handsome man and no wickeder than the general run of dukes; he would make a becoming husband to the beauteous princess, and if she set her mind to it she could probably make a better person of him.

Thus would the warring factions be united, thus would the blessings of peace descend-- But the princess raised her slim, jeweled hand, and spoke thus: "Too late, Your Honor! I been married to His Royal Highness the Earl of Briskow, and it serves you right the way you done both of us." The duke fell into a great rage at this.

He refused to believe it, and threatened to annul the marriage.
"Oh, you can't do that," tittered the princess.