Rhialto crisply denied all knowledge of the deed, but Gilgad, waxing passionate, would not be convinced. He cried out: “Boodis identifies you explicitly! He claims that you made terrifying threats; that you declared: ‘I am Rhialto, and if you think you have been beaten soundly, wait only until I refresh myself!’ Is that not an attitude of merciless cruelty?”
Rhialto said: “You must decide whom you will believe: me or that repulsive beast.” He gave a disdainful bow, and returning into Falu, closed the door. Gilgad cried out a final complaint, then wheeled Boodis home in a barrow padded with silken cushions. Thereafter, among his detractors, Rhialto could confidently include Gilgad.
On another occasion, Rhialto, acting in all innocence, was played false by the ordinary fluxions of circumstance, and once again became the target of recrimination. Initially, Hache-Moncour played no part in the affair, but later made large of it, to compound its effect.
The episode began on a level of pleasant anticipation. The ranking nobleman of the region was Duke Tambasco, a person of impeccable dignity and ancient lineage. Each year, to celebrate the sun’s gallant efforts to survive, Duke Tambasco sponsored a Grand Ball at his palace Quanorq. The guest-list was most select, and on this occasion included Ildefonse, Rhialto and Byzant the Necrope.
Ildefonse and Byzant met at Boumergarth, and over tots of Ildefonse’s best hyperglossom each congratulated the other on his splendid appearance, and made lewd wagers as to who would score the most notable triumphs among the beauties at the ball.
For the occasion Ildefonse chose to appear as a stalwart young bravo with golden curls falling past his ears, a fine golden mustache, and a manner both hearty and large. To complement the thrust of the image, he wore a suit of green velvet, a dark green and gold sash, and a dashing wide-brimmed hat with a white plume.
Byzant, planning with equal care, chose the semblance of a graceful young aesthete, sensitive to nuance and vulnerable to the most fugitive breath of beauty. He joined emerald-green eyes, copper-red ringlets and a marmoreal complexion into a juxtaposition calculated to excite the ardor of the most beautiful women at the ball. “I will seek out the most ravishing of all!” he told Ildefonse. “I will fascinate her with my appearance and captivate her with my soul; she will fall into an amorous swoon which I will shamelessly exploit.”
“I see but a single flaw in your argument,” chuckled Ildefonse. “When you discover this creature of superb attraction, she will already be on my arm and oblivious to all else.”
“Ildefonse, you have always been a braggart in connection with your conquests!” cried Byzant. “At Quanorq we shall judge by performance alone, and then we shall see who is the true adept!”
“So it shall be!”
After a final tot of the hyperglossom, the two gallants set off to Falu, where to their astonishment they found that Rhialto had totally forgotten the occasion.
Ildefonse and Byzant were impatient, and would allow Rhialto no time to make preparations, so Rhialto merely pulled a tasseled cap over his black hair and declared himself ready to depart.
Byzant stood back in surprise. “But you have made no preparations! You are not arrayed in splendid garments! You have neither laved your feet nor scented your hair!”
“No matter,” said Rhialto. “I will seclude myself in the shadows and envy you your successes. At least I shall enjoy the music and the spectacle.”
Byzant chuckled complacently. “No matter, Rhialto; it is time that you had some wind taken from your sails. Tonight Ildefonse and I are primed and ready; you will be entitled to watch our superb talents used to absolutely compelling effect!”
“Byzant speaks with exact accuracy,” declared Ildefonse. “You have had your share of triumphs; tonight you are fated to stand aside and watch while a pair of experts do what is needful to bring the loveliest of the lovely to their knees!”
“If it must be, so it must be,” said Rhialto. “My concern now is for the heart-sick victims of your craft. Have you no pity?”
“None whatever!” declared Ildefonse. “We wage our amorous campaigns with full force; we give no quarter and accept no paroles!”
Rhialto gave his head a rueful shake. “A tragedy that I was not reminded of the ball in time!”
“Come now, Rhialto!” chuckled Byzant. “You must take the bad with the good; whimpering avails nothing.”
Ildefonse cried out. “Meanwhile, time advances! Shall we depart?”
Arriving at Quanorq the three paid their respects to Duke Tambasco and congratulated him upon the magnificence of his arrangements: compliments which the duke acknowledged with a formal bow, and the three magicians made way for others.
For a period the three wandered here and there, and indeed on this occasion Duke Tambasco had outdone himself. Grandees and their charming ladies crowded the halls and galleries, and at four buffets choice viands and fine liquors were deployed in profusion.
The three magicians at last repaired to the foyer of the great ballroom where, stationing themselves to the side, they took note of the beautiful ladies as they passed and discussed the merits and distinguishing characteristics of each. In due course they decided that, while many comely maidens were in evidence, none could match the agonizingly exquisite beauty of the Lady Shaunica of Lake Island.
Ildefonse presently puffed out his fine blond mustaches and went his way. Byzant also took his leave of Rhialto, who went to sit in a shadowed alcove to the side.
Ildefonse found the first opportunity to exert his expertise. Advancing upon the Lady Shaunica he performed a sweeping salute and offered to escort her through the measures of a pavane. “I am profoundly skillful in the execution of this particular dance,” he assured her. “I with my bold flourishes and you with your gracious beauty make a notable pair; we shall be the focus of all eyes! Then, after the dance, I will escort you to the buffet. We will take a goblet or two of wine and you will discover that I am a person of remarkable parts! More than this, I now declare that I am prepared to offer you my fullest esteem!”
“That is most gracious of you,” said the Lady Shaunica. “I am profoundly moved. However, at this juncture, I have no taste for dancing, and I dare drink no more wine for fear of becoming coarse, which would certainly arouse your disapproval.”
Ildefonse performed a punctilious bow and prepared to assert his charm even more explicitly, but when he looked up, Lady Shaunica already had made her departure.
Ildefonse gave a grunt of annoyance, pulled at his mustaches, and strode off to seek a maiden of more malleable tendency.
By chance, the Lady Shaunica almost immediately encountered Byzant. To attract her attention and possibly win her admiration, Byzant addressed her with a quatrain in an archaic language known as Old Naotic, but the Lady Shaunica was only startled and bewildered.
Byzant smilingly translated the lyric and explained certain irregularities of the Naotic philology. “But after all,” said Byzant, “these concepts need not intrude into the rapport between us. I sense that you feel its warm languor as strongly as I!”
“Perhaps not quite so strongly,” said the Lady Shaunica. “But then I am insensitive to such influences, and in fact I feel no rapport whatever.”
“It will come, it will come!” Byzant assured her. “I own a rare perception in that I can see souls in all their shimmering color. Yours and mine waver in the same noble radiances! Come, let us stroll out on the terrace! I will impart to you a secret.” He reached to take her hand.
The Lady Shaunica, somewhat puzzled by Byzant’s effusiveness, drew back. “Truly, I do not care to hear secrets upon such short acquaintance.”
“It is not so much a secret as an impartment! And what, after all, is duration? I have known you no more than half an hour, but already I have composed two lyrics and an ode to your beauty! Come! Out on the terrace! Away and beyond! Into the star-light, under the trees; we shall discard our garments and stride with the wild innocence of sylvan divinities!”
Lady Shaunica drew back still another step. “Thank you, but I am somewhat self-conscious. Suppose we ran so briskly that we could not find our way back to the palace, and in the morning the peasants found us running naked along the road? What could we tell them? Your proposal lacks appeal.”
Byzant threw high his arms and, rolling back his eyes, clutched at his red curls, hoping that the Lady Shaunica would recognize his agony of spirit and take pity, but she had already slipped away. Byzant went angrily to the buffet, where he drank several goblets of strong wine.
A few moments later the Lady Shaunica, passing through the foyer, chanced upon one of her acquaintances, the Lady Dualtimetta. During their conversation the Lady Shaunica chanced to glance into a nearby alcove, where Rhialto sat alone on a couch of maroon brocade. She whispered to the Lady Dualtimetta: “Look yonder into the alcove: who is that who sits so quietly alone?”
The Lady Dualtimetta turned her head to look. “I have heard his name; it is Rhialto, and sometimes ‘Rhialto the Marvellous’. Do you think him elegant? I myself find him austere and even daunting!”
“Truly? Surely not daunting; is he not a man?”
