"I allude to the author of the Myrosis," Jurgen explained,—"whom so many persons rashly identify with Apollonius Herophileius."
"Oh, yes, of course! your quotation is very apt. Why, then your condition is sad but not incurable. For I am about to give you this token, with which, if you are bold enough, you will do thus and thus."
"But indeed this is a somewhat strange token, and the arms and legs, and even the head, of this little man are remarkably alike! Well, and you tell me thus and thus. But how does it happen, Messire Merlin, that you have never used this token in the fashion you suggest to me?"
"Because I was afraid. You forget I am only a magician, whose conjuring raises nothing more formidable than devils. But this is a bit of the Old Magic that is no longer understood, and I prefer not to meddle with it. You, to the contrary, are a poet, and the Old Magic was always favorable to poets."
"Well, I will think about it," says Jurgen, "if this will really put
Dame Guenevere out of my head."
"Be assured it will do that," said Merlin. "For with reason does the Dirghâgama declare, 'The brightness of the glowworm cannot be compared to that of a lamp.'"
"A very pleasant little work, the Dirghâgama," said Jurgen, tolerantly—"though superficial, of course."
Then Merlin Ambrosius gave Jurgen the token, and some advice.
So that night Jurgen told Guenevere he would not go in her train to London. He told her candidly that Merlin was suspicious of their intercourse.
"And therefore, in order to protect you and to protect your fame, my dearest dear," said Jurgen, "it is necessary that I sacrifice myself and everything I prize in life. I shall suffer very much: but my consolation will be that I have dealt fairly with you whom I love with an entire heart, and shall have preserved you through my misery."