Watching Yolande's fair, frowning face the while,
With eyes that held a roguish, wistful smile.
She, meeting now these eyes of laughing blue,
Felt her cheeks burn, and sudden angry grew.

So up she rose in proud and stately fashion,
And stamped slim foot at him in sudden passion;
And vowed that of Duke Joc'lyn she cared naught;
That if he'd woo, by him she must be sought;
Vowed if he wooed his wooing should be vain,
And, as he came, he back should go again.
"For, since the Duke," she cried, "dare send to me
A sorry wight, a very Fool like thee,
By thy Fool's mouth I bid thee to him say,
He ne'er shall win me, woo he as he may;
Say that I know him not--"

"Yet," spake Duke Joc'lyn soft,
"E'er this, methinks, thou'st seen my lord full oft.
When at the joust thou wert fair Beauty's queen
Duke Joc'lyn by thy hand oft crowned hath been."
"True, Fool," she answered, 'twixt a smile and frown,
"I've seen him oft, but with his vizor down.
And verily he is a doughty knight,
But wherefore doth he hide his face from sight?"

"His face?" quoth Joc'lyn with a gloomy look,
"His face, alack!" And here his head he shook;
"His face, ah me!" And here Duke Joc'lyn sighed,
"His face--" "What of his face?" Yolanda cried.