Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-09-12

An he were in love- you would be two
fools laughed Caillette, the court poet.
I'm love. it's only the man is a fool or
the fooled." she returned pointedy. and
Caillette. despite his self-possession.
flushed painfully. Since Diane de Poitiers
had welded her ancient lord the poet had
become grave, studious. almost sad.
And is your mistress. the kings ward.
fooling with her betrothed?' he asked
quickly, conscious of knowing winks and
nudges.
'"The Princess Louise and the Duke of
Friedwald are to wed for reasons of state"
said the young woman, gravely. 'There'u
be no FOOLS
"Ah. loveless match"
But not a landess one!" retorted she of
the cap without the bells Besides it ce-
ments the friendship of Francis and Charles
V. What more would you? But I'll tell
you secret
At that the company focked around her,
as though there were something enticing in
her tone: the vague promise of an interest
ing bit of gossip or the indefinite suggestion
of court scandal.
"a secret" said the cardinals fool rub
bling his hands together. His master often
rewarded him for particularly choice NOR
sells of loose tittle-tattle
"Oh. nothing very wicked" she answered
waving them back with her small hand.
90 TiS only that they play at make believe in
love, the princess and her betrothed! But.
after all. it is far more sensible than real
love-making. where if the pleasure doe more
acute the pangs are therefore the greater
She addresses TO him the tenderest counter
felt verses; he returns them in kind. She
even simulated such an flusory sadness
that the duke has sent his own jester who
has but just arrived at court, to amuse
her (ahemD dizziness, until he himself could
Gomez
At this the cardinals buffoon looked dis
appointed. for his master liked more highly
favored hearsay, while Triboulet frowned
and brought down his heavy fist upon the
arm of the throne
"a new jester, forsooth" he exclaimed.
And why not? Lifting her swart
browS. quZzically
I'VE are already overstOcked with prem
| tice fools" he retoFted. looking over the
| throng.
"Ah. you fear perhaps some one may de-
, pose you?'' remarked Jacqueline, codly.
a guarded laugh arose from the gather
| ing. and the dwarfs eyes cleaned.
"Depose me, TribouletI' he shouted. ris-
| ing. "Triboulet is sovereign lord of all at
whom he mocks! His wand is mightier
| than episcopal miter!"
In his overwhelming rage and vanity he
fairly crouched before the throne, cycling
| them all like a cat. His thick lips trem-
| bled: his eyes became bloodshot. He for
! got all prudence.
Doth not the king himself seek my ad-
vice?" He laughed horribly. Hath not
| perhaps. many fair gentleman been
| burned-aye, burned to ashes as a Calvin
| fsti-at my suggeStion?'
Miserable wretch! Spyr" exclaimed the
young woman. paler than a lily, as she
| bent her eyes, with fully opened lids, upon
| him.
| As If to shield himself he raised his hand
yet. drunkenness or wrath overcame eau
| ton and superstition, and the red eyes met
| the dark ones. But a moment, and the
| former dropped sullenly; a strange thrill
| ran through him. He thought he was be-
| witched.
| Non nobis Dominer' he murmured.
| striving to recall hymn. AS Latin was
! the language of witchcraft, so, also, was it
| the antidote. Contemptuously she turned
| her back and walked slowly to the fire.
| Upon her white face and supple figure
played the elfish glow. lighting the little
| cap and the waving tresses beneath.
| Regarding her furtively, Triboulets cour-
age returned. since she was looking at the
Goals. not at him.
"Ho. hov' he said loosely. you all
| thought 1 was sincere. Listen. my chill
| aren. The art of fooling lies In trumped-
! up earnestness." He smiled hideously.
Bravo. Triboulet." cried an admring
voice.
| 'Only time and art can give you such
mastery over the passions" continued the
| jester. Which one of you would depose
me? Who so ugly as 1? Poets. philoso-
piers! / snap my fingers at them. Poor
| mothsI And you dare bait me with a new
| conner. Let him look to himself!' From
| earnestness to grandiloqeunce was but a
| step.
Let him comet" And Triboulet. imi-
| tating the pose Of Francis himself. drew
his wooden sword.
/ Let him comet" he repeated. dercaly.