and eyes of mastery, Who, when the Duke made of his song an end Did from his saddle o'er Yolanda bend. With eyes on her warm beauty he stooped near To touch white hand and whisper in her ear; Whereat she laughed and frowned with cheek flushed red Then, frowning still, she turned her horse's head, And rode away with dame and squire and knight, Till lost she was to Joc'lyn's ravished sight.
“Ha, lord!” quoth Sir Pertinax, as they came within a quiet thoroughfare, “this lady is grown more fair since last we saw her Queen of Beauty at Melloc joust, concerning whom Fame, in troth, doth breed a just report for once. But, messire, didst mark him beside her—with touch o' hand, lord, whispers i' the ear—didst mark this wolf, this Seneschal, this thrice accurst Sir Gui?”
“Aye, forsooth,” answered the Duke, “but thou'rt an hungered, methinks?”
“To touch her hand, lord—aha! To whisper in her ear, lord—oho! A right puissant lord, Seneschal of Raddemore, Lord of Thorn and Knight of Ells! A lord of puissance and power potential.”
“And thou, my Pertinax, art but a hungry Knight, that trampeth with a hungry Fool, wherefore let us forthwith—”
“Aye, but mark me, lord, if this puissant lord with pomp and high estate doth woo the lady—”
“So then, my Pertinax, will I woo this lady also.”
“How, in this thy foolish guise?”
“Aye, forsooth.”
“Why, then, thou art like to be whipped for froward Fool and I for ragged rogue, and this our adventure brought to ill and woeful end—so here now is folly, lord, indeed!”
“Aye, forsooth!” smiled the Duke,
“Whereto these bells give heed. But come, amend thy speed, Methinks thy fasting-need These gloomy vapours breed. Thy inner man doth plead Good beef with ale or mead Wherein, thou Fool decreed, I am right well agreed 'T were goodly thing to feed, Nor will I thee impede, So follow Folly's lead And food-wards we'll proceed.”
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