"Only wait till he awakes from the hard blow thou gavest him. He will decide for himself."
"'Twill be by far less painful if done now."
"Then take him."
"Think well and long," said the jester. "'Tis a life of hell thou wouldst prolong him to. The jeers, the coarse and ribald laughter of the court, the scorn and teasing—aye—God! I know the life, for I too suffer as a courtier's play-thing—and yet, I have a straight body and a human face and a tongue to answer with. What canst thou offer him to compensate for all his loss and misery?"
She looked up proudly. "My love. Is it not enough?"
The fool bowed. "It must be, when kings crave for it. Yet beauty such as thine can only love the beautiful."
"Then I shall pity him—with all my heart's strength; I'll comfort his poor life with sweetest pity."
"Lady, pity is the meanest gate of love."
The captain growled and swung his halberd viciously. "Keep thy wit for the king's ear," he said. "The lady Suelva hath spoken her decision. We dally no longer." He bent down and lifted the squire's body over his back. Then he turned to the eunuch. "Take thou the old mute's corpse. I have kept his carcass these seven days; to serve as a pattern. So carry it down."
The black's eyes dilated again, and he shrank back. "I dare not touch it. He was my friend."