The Geste of Duke Jocelyn | Page 8

the town, farmers and merchants, rustic maids, fair ladies, knights and esquires on horseback or a-foot, but who, hearing the jingle of the Duke's tinkling bells, seeing his flaunting cock's-comb, with one accord gathered to him from every quarter:
For when this long-legged gestour they espied,?They, laughing, hemmed him in on every side,?And, "See, a Fool! A Fool! The Fool must sing,"?And "Fool! A Fool!" upon the air did ring,?Wherefore the Duke betook him to his lute,?And strummed until the chattering crowd was mute.?Then while all folk did hold their peace to hear,?In golden voice he sang, full rich and clear:
"'A fool! A fool!' ye cry,?A fool forsooth am I.?But tell me, wise ones, if ye can,?Where shall ye find a happy man??Lived there one since the world began??Come, answer ye?To me!
"'What of the king?' says you.?Says I to you--'Go to!?A king despite his crown and throne,?Hath divers troubles all his own.?Such woes, methinks, as are unknown?To such as ye,?Or me!'
"'Ha, then--the rich!' ye cry,?'Not so in truth,' says I.?'The rich man's gold is load of care,?That day and night he needs must bear;?Less care he'd know if poor he were,?As poor as ye,?Or me!'
"For, sirs, as I do guess?This thing called 'Happiness'?Man leaveth with his youth behind;?So keep ye all a youthful mind,?Thus happiness ye all shall find?If wit have ye,?Like me!
"O list ye, great and small,?Proud knight, free man and thrall,?True happiness, since life began,?The birthright is of every man;?Seize then your birthright if ye can,?Since men are ye--?Like me!
"Thus I forsooth, a Fool,?Do now ye wise ones school;?Since of my folly, full and free,?I wisely thus admonish ye,?Be wise--or eke fools learn to be?In verity--?Like me!"
Now when the song was ended some there were who laughed and some looked grave, some talked amain and some wagged solemn heads, while many a good coin rang heartily at Duke Jocelyn's feet; smiling, he bade Sir Pertinax take them up, joying to see the proud Knight stooping thus to pouch the money like any beggar. But now, when he would fain have gone his way into the town, the people would by no means suffer it and clamoured amain on all sides, insistent for more; wherefore, lifting his scarred face to the sunset sky, Duke Jocelyn sang as here followeth:
"When man is born he doth begin?With right good will, to daily sin,?And little careth.?But when his grave he thinketh near,?Then grave he groweth in his fear?And sin forsweareth.
"This life that man doth cherish so,?Is wondrous frail and quick to go,?Nor will it stay.?Yet where's the man that will not give?All that he hath so he might live?Another day.
"Fain would I know the reason why?All men so fearful are to die?And upward go??Since Death all woes and ills doth end,?Sure Death, methinks, should be a friend,?Not hated foe.
"So when Death come, as come he must,?Grieve not that we this sorry dust?Do leave behind.?For when this fleeting life be run,
By Death we all of us--each one,?True life shall find."
Now while he sang melodious and clear?Amid the throng that closer pressed to hear,?Duke Joc'lyn of a sudden did espy?The "wherefore" of his coming and the "why."?Yolande herself he, singing, did behold,?Her eyes, red lips, her hair of ruddy gold;?And all her warm and glowing loveliness?Did sudden thus his raptured vision bless;?While she, in gracious ease, her horse did sit?That pawed round hoof and champed upon his bit,?Arching proud neck as if indeed he were?Proud of the lovely burden he did bear.?As Joc'lyn gazed upon her thus, she seemed?A thousand times more fair than he had dreamed.?Now while he sang, she viewed him, gentle-eyed,?And quite forgot the gallant by her side,?A tall, dark-featured, comely lord was he,?With chin full square 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