"I am not well enough to receive it
in proper state."
"Never mind, your majesty. We do not care for much ceremony; and indeed
none of us are quite well at present. The subject of our petition
weighs upon us."
"Go on," said the king.
"Sire," began the Shadow, "our very existence is in danger. The various
sorts of artificial light, both in houses and in men, women, and
children, threaten to end our being. The use and the disposition of
gaslights, especially high in the centres, blind the eyes by which
alone we can be perceived. We are all but banished from towns. We are
driven into villages and lonely houses, chiefly old farm-houses, out of
which, even, our friends the fairies are fast disappearing. We
therefore petition our king, by the power of his art, to restore us to
our rights in the house itself, and in the hearts of its inhabitants."
"But," said the king, "you frighten the children."
"Very seldom, your majesty; and then only for their good. We seldom
seek to frighten anybody. We mostly want to make people silent and
thoughtful; to awe them a little, your majesty."
"You are much more likely to make them laugh," said the king.
"Are we?" said the Shadow.
And approaching the king one step, he stood quite still for a moment.
The diamond of the king's sceptre shot out a vivid flame of violet
light, and the king stared at the Shadow in silence, and his lip
quivered. He never told what he saw then; but he would say:
"Just fancy what it might be if _some_ flitting thoughts were to
persist in staying to be looked at.
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