"Ho! ho!" he bellowed, the better to attract attention to himself. "The duke sent his fool to amuse his betrothed and the fool hath lost his heart to his mistress."
The king left off his whispering, Catharine turned from the chancellor, Diane ceased furtively to regard Caillette, while the Queen of Navarre laughed nervously and murmured:
"Princess and jester! It will make another tale."
But Henry of Navarre looked gravely down. He, and Francis' queen—a passive spectator at the feast—and a bishop, whose interest lay in a truffled capon, alone followed not the direction of the duke's eyes. The fair favorite of the king clapped her hands, but the monarch frowned, not having forgotten that night in Fools' hall when the jester had appointed rogues to offices.
"What is this? A fool in love with the princess?" said the king, ominously.
"Even so, your Majesty," cried Triboulet. "But a moment ago Duke Robert did whisper to his bride-to-be, and the fool's hand trembled like a leaf and dropped his glass. Tra! la! la! What a situation! Holy Saint-Bagpipe! Here's a comedy in high life!"
"A comedy!" repeated the duke, and half-rose from his chair, regarding his fool with surprise and anger.
Now Triboulet roared. Had he not in the past attained his high position of favorite jester to the king by his very foolhardihood? And were not trusting lovers and all too-confiding husbands the legitimate butt of all jesting?
"Look at the fool," he went on exultantly. "Does any one doubt his guilt? He is silent; he can not speak!"
And, indeed, the foreign jester seemed momentarily disconcerted, although he strove to appear indifferent.