.

"A handsome fool with a foolish hand. How did he carry himself when you
put him by?"

"He was bright with wine," Glycerium answered. "He swore a Greek oath or
two, but he left you this pearl."

Glycerium handed a great, round pearl to Lycabetta, who took it from her
with indifference, weighing it lightly in the hollow of her hand.

"It is rare and fair," she commented, "but I will not wear it. There is
no jewel in the world that is worth what it hides of my whiteness. Who
else?"

Glycerium thought for a moment before she answered,

"Messer Gian Sanminiato."

Lycabetta sneered at the name.

"The court poet who would pay for favors with phrases and runs aside to
rhyme a sonnet every time he wins the kiss of a lip. What did he say?"

"He seemed very downcast, and he sighed like a dromedary," Glycerium
answered. "He charged me to deliver this ode to your loveliness."

She handed a scroll of parchment to Lycabetta, who took it and opened it
contemptuously.

"Oh, ancient gods!" she sighed. "Let me see it. Yes, indeed; I am Venus
and the Graces Three and the Muses Nine--all which I knew before ever he
fumbled for rhymes; and he loves me as Ixion loved the Queen of Heaven.
Well, he had better find a cloud of consolation to-night. Who else?"

"Casimir, the rich Muscovy merchant," Glycerium replied.

Lycabetta gave a shrug.

"He rains gold like Jove, but he smells of civet."

Glycerium ventured a protest.

"His money smells sweet enough," she said. "He flung me this purse on
account."

Lycabetta took no notice of the gold.

"Is that all?" she asked.

Glycerium responded, with a slight air of constraint, "Sigurd Olafson,
the young Varangian captain."

Lycabetta lifted herself on one elbow with a look of interest.

"I would have welcomed him, for he can hug like a bear and his blue eyes
are as bright as the northern star. I could hate the King for swearing
he would come to-night and so forcing me to keep my door shut. Did he
leave me anything?"

"Nothing," Glycerium admitted; "but he lifted me, there in the moonlit
street, to the level of his lips and kissed me."

Lycabetta leaned forward and gave Glycerium a playful box on the ear.

"You little thief," she cried, "to steal the best gift of the bunch. If
I thought he cared for you, child, I would make you very unkissable. Oh,
I wish the King would come!"

Glycerium gave a sigh of admiration.

"He is better than the best of them," she asserted.