He dashed across the drawbridge, and, opening his scissors, cried: "Giant scissors, rise in power! Grant me my heart's desire this hour!" The crowds on the other side held their breath as the Ogre rushed out, brandishing a club as big as a church steeple.

Then Whack! Bang! The blows of the scissors, warding off the blows of the mighty club, could be heard for miles around.
At last Ethelried became so exhausted that he could scarcely raise his hand, and it was plain to be seen that the scissors could not do battle much longer.

By this time a great many people, attracted by the terrific noise, had come running up to the moat.

The news had spread far and wide that Ethelried was in danger; so every one whom he had ever served dropped whatever he was doing, and ran to the scene of the battle.

The peasant was there, and the shepherd, and the lords and beggars and high-born dames, all those whom Ethelried had ever befriended.
As they saw that the poor Prince was about to be vanquished, they all began a great lamentation, and cried out bitterly.
"He saved my harvest," cried one.