Another man most surely must have failed, because he shrank from pity as from salt rubbed in a wound, and felt that none could hear his woeful history and not bestow that pity.

But if the Jester felt its throbs he gave no sign.

Seated beside him on the grass he talked in the light tone that served his trade, as if Aldebaran's woes were but a flight of swallows 'cross a summer sky, and would as soon be gone.

And when between his quirks he'd drawn the piteous tale entirely from him, he doubled up with laughter and smote his sides.
"And I'm the fool and thou'rt the sage!" he gasped between his peals of mirth.

"Gadzooks! Methinks it is the other way around.