"To accomplish that which I have failed to do," replied the student, willingly. "But, alas, not having earned it, have I the right idly to spend it?" he added, dolefully, half to himself.
"Why did Nanette—" began the jester.
But the other raised his arm with an expostulatory gesture. "Many things I know," he interrupted; "odds and ends of erudition, but a woman's mind I know not, nor want to know. I had as soon question Beelzebub as her; yea, to stir up the devil with a stick. If sparing my life is contingent on my knowing why she does this, or that, then let me pay the debt of nature."
"No; 'tis slight punishment to take from a man that which he values so little he must reason with himself to learn if he value it at all," returned the duke's jester, slowly. "We'll waive the question, if you find me the horse."
"'Tis Nanette you must ask. There's but one, old, yet serviceable—"
"Then take me to Nanette."
"Very well. Follow me, sir; and if you're still of a mind when you see her, you can question her."
"Why, is she so weird and witch-like to look upon?" said the fool.
"Nay; the devil hides his claws behind the daintiest fingers, all pink and white. He conceals his cloven hoof in a slipper, truly sylph-like."
"You arouse my curiosity. I would fain meet this fair monster."