“I understand,” I replied. “I have learned a lesson, and henceforth the delusion caused by forms shall have no more power over me. But tell me, dear, is the hour of vivisection approaching? Is there no way for escape?” “Alas, no!” sighed the princess. “There is a jumping-jack at every door.” A thrill of horror swept through me when I heard these words, and made me tremble. A moment before I had called myself a fool for being afraid of a jumping-jack, and now at the very mention of such a toy the old terror came back. I knew that I could not escape, because I would not dare to face a jumping-jack again. I would be sure to succumb to its influence. “But,” continued Adalga, “why should you be afraid of being dissected? Can you not create for yourself a new body again?” “Nonsense!” I cried. “I am not a creator.” “But, sure enough,” answered the princess, “you have a creative spirit in you. Oh, my dear Mulligan, why will you remain incognito among us? Why do you continue to be dark? Why will you disguise yourself before me? Is it that I am not worthy to behold your true light, or that my eyes would be dazzled by its splendour? Lord of my heart, unveil yourself to me! Show yourself to me in your own essence!” “Dearest princess!” I replied, “I do not know what you are talking about. I am not luminous, and I never saw a luminous man. In our country nobody has a light of his own.” “Alas!” said the princess, “what a fearful fate it must be to have no light, and to live in a country of perpetual darkness.” To this I replied-- “This is not so. Nobody in our country needs a light of his own, because we have one great luminary, called the sun, right over our head, and the light of that sun illuminates our world.” “And can everybody see that sun?” asked the princess. “Of course,” I said. “Everybody, unless he is as blind as a bat.” When I had spoken these words, the princess threw her arms around my neck, and whispered to me-- “Dearest Mulligan! I have a favour to ask you. Please fetch me the sun!” “This is quite impossible,” I said, “for although we all live in the light of the sun, nevertheless we cannot approach the sun, nor put him into our pockets.” But the princess was not satisfied with that answer. “Surely,” she exclaimed, “you told me that the sun was right above your heads. You ought not to refuse me the first kindness I ever asked of you. I implore you to bring me the sun. I will not be contented unless I have it.” I became alarmed. “This is a foolish request, madame,” I said. “If somebody, or anybody, could claim the sun as his own, and carry it away, there would be little chance for anyone else to enjoy it. The Government would monopolise it, and put a tax upon the use of his light; the doctors would dissect him to see of what material he is made; and there are lots of amorous fools who would not hesitate a moment to make him explode, merely for the purpose of amusing their sweethearts.”