"
"Begone!" she sighed. "Thy look doth make me cold,
E'en as I stand thus i' the kindly sun.
Yet, an thou 'rt poor as thy mean habit speaks thee,
Take first this dole for tender Jesu's sake."
Then answered Jocelyn on lowly knee:
"For thy sweet bounty I do thank thee well,
But, in good sooth, so great a fool am I,
'Stead of thy gold I rather would possess
Yon happy flower that in thy bosom bloometh.
Give me but this and richer fool am I
Than any knight-like fool that coucheth lance--
Greater I than any lord soever,
Aye--e'en Duke Jocelyn of Brocelaunde."
Smiled now Yolande with rosy lip up-curving,
While in soft cheek a roguish dimple played.
Quoth she: "Duke Jocelyn, I've heard it said,
Is great and rich, a mighty man-at-arms,
And thou but sorry Fool in mean array,
Yet"--from white fingers she let fall the flower--
"Be thou, Fool, greater than this mighty Duke!
And now, since mighty Fool and rich I've made thee,
In quittance I would win of thee a song.
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