"Yet doth the sun shine in high heaven, so must these things be till God and the saints shall mend them. But if thou must needs be doleful, go make thee troubles of thine own but leave the woes of this wide world to God!"
"Nay," said Beltane, shaking his head, "how if God leave these things to thee and me?"
"Why then methinks the world must wag as it will. Yet must we repine therefore? Out upon thee for a sober, long-legged, doleful wight. Now harkee! Here sit I—less fool! A fool who hath, this day, been driven forth of my lord's presence with blows and cruel stripes! And wherefore? 'Twas for setting a bird free of its cage, a small matter methinks—though there be birds—and birds, but mum for that! Yet do I grieve and sigh therefore, O doleful long-shanks? Not so—fie on't! I blow away my sorrows through the music of this my little pipe and, lying here, set my wits a-dancing and lo! I am a duke, a king, a very god! I create me a world wherein is neither hunger nor stripes, a world of joy and laughter, for, blessed within his dreams, even a fool may walk with gods and juggle with the stars!"
"Aye," nodded Beltane, "but how when he awake?"
"Why then, messire," laughed the fellow, leaping nimbly to his feet, "why then doth he ask alms of thee, as thus: Prithee most noble messire, of thy bounty show kindness to a fool that lacks everything but wit. So give, messire, give and spare not, so may thy lady prove kind, thy wooing prosper and love strengthen thee."
Now when the jester spake of love, my Beltane must needs sigh amain and shake a doleful head.
"Alas!" said he, "within my life shall be no place for love, methinks."
"Heigho!" sighed the jester, "thy very look doth proclaim thee lover, and 'tis well, for love maketh the fool wise and the wise fool, it changeth saints into rogues and rogues into saints, it teacheth the strong man gentleness and maketh the gentle strong. 'Tis sweeter than honey yet bitter as gall—Love! ah, love can drag a man to hell or lift him high as heaven!"
"Aye verily," sighed Beltane, "I once did dream of such a love, but now am I awake, nor will I dream of love again, nor rest whiles Lust and Cruelty rule this sorrowful Duchy—"
"Ha, what would ye then, fond youth?"