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Invoking this precedent in aid of my prayer, I beseech the King to grant
to me but this one grace and privilege--to my more than sufficient
reward--and none other, to wit: that I and my heirs, for ever, may SIT
in the presence of the Majesty of England!"
"Rise, Sir Miles Hendon, Knight," said the King, gravely--giving the
accolade with Hendon's sword--"rise, and seat thyself. Thy petition is
granted. Whilst England remains, and the crown continues, the privilege
shall not lapse."
His Majesty walked apart, musing, and Hendon dropped into a chair at
table, observing to himself, "'Twas a brave thought, and hath wrought me
a mighty deliverance; my legs are grievously wearied. An I had not
thought of that, I must have had to stand for weeks, till my poor lad's
wits are cured." After a little, he went on, "And so I am become a
knight of the Kingdom of Dreams and Shadows! A most odd and strange
position, truly, for one so matter-of-fact as I. I will not laugh--no,
God forbid, for this thing which is so substanceless to me is REAL to
him. And to me, also, in one way, it is not a falsity, for it reflects
with truth the sweet and generous spirit that is in him." After a pause:
"Ah, what if he should call me by my fine title before folk!--there'd be
a merry contrast betwixt my glory and my raiment! But no matter, let him
call me what he will, so it please him; I shall be content."
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