Both day and night In dark, in light A worthy knight, A lord of might, In his own right, Duke Joc'lyn hight To thine his heart would knit.    “But, since the Duke may not come to thee, I, in his stead, will humbly sue thee; His love each day I will portray As best I may; I'll sue, I'll pray, I'll sing, I'll play, Now grave, now gay, And in this way, I for the Duke will woo thee.”    Now, fair Yolanda gazed with wide-oped eyes, And checked sweet breath for wonder and surprise; Then laughed full blithe and yet, anon, did frown, And with slim fingers plucked at purfled gown:    “And is it thou—a sorry Fool,” she cried.   “Art sent to win this mighty Duke a bride?”    “E'en so!” quoth he. “Whereof I token bring; Behold, fair maid, Duke Joc'lyn's signet ring.”    “Heaven's love!” she cried. “And can it truly be The Duke doth send a mountebank like thee, A Fool that hath nor likelihood nor grace From worn-out shoon unto thy blemished face—   A face so scarred—so hateful that meseems At night 't will haunt and fright me with ill dreams; A slave so base—”    “E'en so!” Duke Joc'lyn sighed, And his marred visage 'neath his hood did hide.   “But, though my motley hath thy pride distressed, I am the Fool Duke Joc'lyn loveth best. And—ah, my lady, thou shalt never see In all this world a Fool the like of me!”    Thus spake the Duke, and then awhile stood mute, And idly struck sweet chords upon his lute, Watching Yolande's fair, frowning face the while, With eyes that held a roguish, wistful smile. She, meeting now these eyes of laughing blue, Felt her cheeks burn, and sudden angry grew. So up she rose in proud and stately fashion, And stamped slim foot at him in sudden passion; And vowed that of Duke Joc'lyn she cared naught; That if he'd woo, by him she must be sought; Vowed if he wooed his wooing should be vain, And, as he came, he back should go again.   “For, since the Duke,” she cried, “dare send to me A sorry wight, a very Fool like thee, By thy Fool's mouth I bid thee to him say, He ne'er shall win me, woo he as he may; Say that I know him not—”    “Yet,” spake Duke Joc'lyn soft,   “E'er this, methinks, thou'st seen my lord full oft. When at the joust thou wert fair Beauty's queen Duke Joc'lyn by thy hand oft crowned hath been.”    “True, Fool,” she answered, 'twixt a smile and frown,   “I've seen him oft, but with his vizor down. And verily he is a doughty knight, But wherefore doth he hide his face from sight?”    “His face?” quoth Joc'lyn with a gloomy look,   “His face, alack!” And here his head he shook;   “His face, ah me!” And here Duke Joc'lyn sighed,   “His face—” “What of his face?” Yolanda cried.   “A mercy's name, speak—speak and do not fail.”    

 Prev. P 25/164 next