amed that he was not the king. He was
dressed in the king's royal robes, he wore the royal crown, and on his
hand was the king's own ring. Robert of Sicily, half naked, ragged,
without a sign of his kingship on him, stood before the throne and
stared with fury at this figure of himself.

The king on the throne looked at him. "Who art thou, and what dost thou
here?" he asked. And though his voice was just like Robert's own, it
had something in it sweet and deep, like the sound of bells.

"I am the king!" cried Robert of Sicily. "I am the king, and you are an
impostor!"

The courtiers started from their seats, and drew their swords. They
would have killed the crazy man who insulted their king; but he raised
his hand and stopped them, and with his eyes looking into Robert's eyes
he said, "Not the king; you shall be the king's jester! You shall wear
the cap and bells, and make laughter for my court. You shall be the
servant of the servants, and your companion shall be the jester's ape."

With shouts of laughter, the courtiers drove Robert of Sicily from the
banquet hall; the waiting-men, with laughter, too, pushed him into the
soldiers' hall; and there the pages brought the jester's wretched ape,
and put a fool's cap and bells on Robert's head. It was like a
terrible dream; he could not believe it true, he could not understand
what had happened to him. And when he woke next morning, he believed it
was a dream, and that he was king again. But as he turned his head, he
felt the coarse straw under his cheek instead of the soft pillow, and
he saw that he was in the stable, with the shivering ape by his side.
Robert of Sicily was a jester, and no one knew him for the king.

Three long years passed. Sicily was happy and all things went well
under the king, who was not Robert. Robert was still the jester, and
his heart was harder and bitterer with every year. Many times, during
the three years, the king, who had his face and voice, had called him
to himself, when none else could hear, and had asked him the one
question, "Who art thou?" And each time that he asked it his eyes
looked into Robert's eyes, to find his heart. But each time Robert
threw back his head and answered, proudly, "I am the king!" And the
king's eyes grew sad and stern.

At the end of three years, the Pope bade the Emperor of Allemaine and
the King of Sicily, his brothers, to a great meeting in his city of
Rome. The King of Sicily went, with