ink of any other?"
Aldebaran hid his face within his hands. "No, no!" he groaned. "There is
no other way, and yet my soul abhors the thought, that I, a king's son,
should descend to this! The jester's motley and the cap and bells. How
can _I_ play such a part?"
"Because thou _art_ a king's son," said the Jester. "That in itself is
ample reason that thou shouldst play more royally than other men
whatever part Fate may assign thee."
Aldebaran sat wrapped in thought. "Well," was the slow reply after long
pause, "an hundred years from now, I suppose, 'twill make no difference
how circumstances chafe me now. A poor philosophy, but still there is a
grain of comfort in it. I'll take thy offer, friend, and give thee
gratitude."
And so next day the two went forth together. Aldebaran showed a brave
front to the crowd, glad of the painted mask that hid his features, and
no one guessed the misery that lurked beneath his laugh, and no one knew
what mighty tax it was upon his courage to follow in the Jester's lead
and play buffoon upon the open street. It was a thing he loathed, and
yet, 'twas as the Jester said, his training in the royal court had made
him sharp of wit and quick to read men's minds; and to the countrymen
who gathered there agape, around him in the square, his keen replies
were wonderful as wizard's magic.
And when he piped--it was no shallow fluting that merely set the rustic
feet a-jig, it was a strange and stirring strain that made the simplest
one among them stand with his soul a-tiptoe, as he listened, as if a
kingly train with banners went a-marching by. So royally he played his
part, that even on that first day he surpassed his teacher. The Jester,
jubilant that this was so, thought that his time to leave was near at
hand, but when that night they reached his dwelling Aldebaran tore off
the painted mask and threw himself upon the hearth.
"'Tis more than flesh can well endure!" he cried. "All day the thought
of what I've lost was like a constant sword-thrust in my heart. Instead
of deference and respect that once was mine from high and low, 'twas
laugh and jibe and pointing finger. And, too," (his voice grew shrill
and querulous) "I saw young lovers straying in the lanes together. How
can I endure that sight day after day when my arms must remain for ever
empty? And little children prattled by their father's side no matter
where I turned. I, who shall never know a little son's caress felt like
a st
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