"This is treason. The lowest dungeon in my castle is not too hard a punishment for such offense. At any cost this spirit must be quenched—at any cost."
Tears flowed softly down the cheeks of the seven maidens, and fell on their clasped hands, and the drops from Virginie's brown eyes sparkled like jewels on Amelie's golden hair. Then, in the sorrowful pause, the King's Jester stepped softly forward, and the little bells upon his patches rang as he came.
"Sire," said he, "I could tell a remedy more potent than this and less savage."
"Speak, Fool!" said the King.
"Not afore folks," answered the Jester, with a smile.
"They understand not your folly," said the King.
"Ay, but they might, for none can tell when words of wisdom may begin to penetrate dull brains. Clear me the room of these philosophers and the others, and let the maidens begone, for I cannot abide a woman's tears."
"Go!" said his Majesty.
Then the weeping maidens and the ladies-in-waiting passed out in a shimmer of gold color, and crimson, and blue, and rich green; and after them, like a shadow, crept the philosophers in garments of black; and then, with a clash of steel and flashing of wrought armor, went the knights-at-arms, and the presence chamber was empty, save for the King on the throne and the Jester, who stood before him in the posture of the philosophers, with folded arms and head bent low.