"
"Is 't then this cap o' Folly--my ass's ears, Yolande? Then away with them!
So shalt jester become very man as thou art very maid!" Forthwith he thrust
back his cock's-comb and so stood gazing up at her wide-eyed.
But she, beholding thus his scarred face, shivered again, shrinking a
little, whereupon Jocelyn bowed his head, hiding his features in his long,
black-curling hair.
"Alas, my lady!" he said, "doth my ill face offend thee? This would I put
off also for thy sake an it might be, but since this I may not do, close
thou thine eyes a while and hear me speak. For now do I tell thee, Yolande,
that I--e'en I that am poor jester--am yet a man loving thee with man's
love. I that am one with face thus hatefully scarred do seek thee in thy
beauty to my love--"
"Presumptuous Fool, how darest thou speak me thus?" she whispered.
"For that great love dareth greatly, Yolande."
"And what of thy lord? How of Duke Jocelyn, thy master?"
"He is but man, lady, even as I. Moreover for thee he existeth not since
thou hast ne'er beheld him--to thy knowing.
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