was cut out for a "zebra," the ornamental fetch-and-carry
of an elegant mondaine. He delighted to vow, protest,
and implore. He would talk of kissing his inamorata's
feet; declare the little purse that she made him worth a
star or two; and beg a million pardons when he cared
not a straw for one. He always wore a compliment in his
right eye and an impertinence in his left, and could say
either in such a way as to make it seem the other. An
interesting cough, an elegant headache, a charming lan-
guor, and a seductive melancholy were also in his baggage.
For him life had countless annoyances and required inces-
sant consolation. Wine had no flavor unless a white hand
passed him the cup. Breath had to be scented a little or
his nostrils were liable to stop it. Or at all events, if the
age was too early for precisely these refinements, the spirit
of the thing was in him.

He was not a bad fellow, though. His mind was busy
and he was always trying to learn. We must call him
good-hearted--that is, if we call it a heart at all--for we
read that "he willingly taught others" what he knew.

As a lady's man he was aptly contrived: lively, com-
panionable, sentimental, never in love but always able to
appear so, as the biography states, always ready with a
song, fully stocked with gossip, glad to be petted, and
mightily happy to be ordered about on dainty errands.
With men however it was different. His patrons--bold,
vigorous barons--quickly discovered two vices in his mak-
ing-up: he was expensive and he was lazy; and from
these vices grew, I take it, his two unfortunate broils.

The story of each is expounded in a tenso. First it was
the count of Rodes (Rodez). 2

"Count," sang Ugo, "there is no need of your being
frightened and anxious on account of me, for I haven't
come to ask or obtain anything, since I have all I require;
and I see that pence are so scarce with you that I haven't

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