Julian passes into a fool.
“The next visit I made to the world was performed in France, where I
was born in the court of Lewis III, and had afterwards the honor to be
preferred to be fool to the prince, who was surnamed Charles the Simple.
But, in reality, I know not whether I might so properly be said to have
acted the fool in his court as to have made fools of all others in it.
Certain it is, I was very far from being what is generally understood by
that word, being a most cunning, designing, arch knave. I knew very well
the folly of my master, and of many others, and how to make my advantage
of this knowledge.
“I was as dear to Charles the Simple as the player Paris was to
Domitian, and, like him, bestowed all manner of offices and honors
on whom I pleased. This drew me a great number of followers among
the courtiers, who really mistook me for a fool, and yet flattered my
understanding. There was particularly in the court a fellow who had
neither honor, honesty, sense, wit, courage, beauty, nor indeed any one
good quality, either of mind or body, to recommend him; but was at the
same time, perhaps, as cunning a monster as ever lived. This gentleman
took it into his head to list under my banner, and pursued me so very
assiduously with flattery, constantly reminding me of my good sense,
that I grew immoderately fond of him; for though flattery is not most
judiciously applied to qualities which the persons flattered possess,
yet as, notwithstanding my being well assured of my own parts, I passed
in the whole court for a fool, this flattery was a very sweet morsel to
me. I therefore got this fellow preferred to a bishopric, but I lost my
flatterer by it; for he never afterwards said a civil thing to me.
“I never balked my imagination for the grossness of the reflection on
the character of the greatest noble--nay, even the king himself; of
which I will give you a very bold instance. One day his simple majesty
told me he believed I had so much power that his people looked on me as
the king, and himself as my fool.
“At this I pretended to be angry, as with an affront. ‘Why, how now?’
says the king; ‘are you ashamed of being a king?’ ‘No, sir,’ says I,
‘but I am devilishly ashamed of my fool.’
“Herbert, earl of Vermandois, had by my means been restored to the favor
of the Simple (for so I used always to call Charles). He afterwards
prevailed with the king to take the city of Arras from earl Baldwin, by
which means, Herbert, in exchange for this city, had Peronne restored
to him by count Altmar. Baldwin came to court in order to procure
the restoration of his city; but, either through pride or ignorance,
neglected to apply to me. As I met him at court during his solicitation,
I told him he did not apply the right way; he answered roughly he should
not ask a fool’s advice. I replied I did not wonder at his prejudice,
since he had miscarried already by following a fool’s advice; but I told
him there were fools who had more interest than that he had brought with
him to court. He answered me surlily he had no fool with him, for that
he traveled alone. ‘Ay, my lord,’ says I, ‘I often travel alone, and yet
they will have it I always carry a fool with me.’ This raised a laugh
among the by-standers, on which he gave me a blow. I immediately
complained of this usage to the Simple, who dismissed the earl from
court with very hard words, instead of granting him the favor he
solicited.
“I give you these rather as a specimen of my interest and impudence than
of my wit--indeed, my jests were commonly more admired than they ought
to be; for perhaps I was not in reality much more a wit than a fool.
But, with the latitude of unbounded scurrility, it is easy enough
to attain the character of wit, especially in a court, where, as all
persons hate and envy one another heartily, and are at the same time
obliged by the constrained behavior of civility to profess the greatest
liking, so it is, and must be, wonderfully pleasant to them to see the
follies of their acquaintance exposed by a third person. Besides, the
opinion of the court is as uniform as the fashion, and is always
guided by the will of the prince or of the favorite. I doubt not that
Caligula’s horse was universally held in his court to be a good and
able consul. In the same manner was I universally acknowledged to be the
wittiest fool in the world. Every word I said raised laughter, and
was held to be a jest, especially by the ladies, who sometimes laughed
before I had discovered my sentiment, and often repeated that as a jest
which I did not even intend as one.
“I was as severe on the ladies as on the men, and with the same
impunity; but this at last cost me dear: for once having joked on the
beauty of a lady whose name was Adelaide, a favorite of the Simple’s,
she pretended to smile and be pleased at my wit with the rest of the
company; but in reality she highly resented it, and endeavored to
undermine me with the king. In which she so greatly succeeded (for what
cannot a favorite woman do with one who deserves the surname of Simple?)
that the king grew every day more reserved to me, and when I attempted
any freedom gave me such marks of his displeasure, that the courtiers
who have all hawks’ eyes at a slight from the sovereign, soon discerned
it: and indeed, had I been blind enough not to have discovered that I
had lost ground in the Simple’s favor by his own change in his carriage
towards me, I must have found it, nay even felt it, in the behavior of
the courtiers: for, as my company was two days before solicited with the
utmost eagerness, it was now rejected with as much scorn. I was now the
jest of the ushers and pages; and an officer of the guards, on whom I
was a little jocose, gave me a box on the ear, bidding me make free with
my equals. This very fellow had been my butt for many years, without
daring to lift his hand against me.
“But though I visibly perceived the alteration in the Simple, I was
utterly unable to make any guess at the occasion. I had not the least
suspicion of Adelaide; for, besides her being a very good-humored woman,
I had often made severe jests on her reputation, which I had all the
reason imaginable to believe had given her no offense. But I soon
perceived that a woman will bear the most bitter censures on her morals
easier than the smallest reflection on her beauty; for she now declared
publicly, that I ought to be dismissed from court, as the stupidest of
fools, and one in whom there was no diversion; and that she wondered how
any person could have so little taste as to imagine I had any wit.
This speech was echoed through the drawing-room, and agreed to by all
present. Every one now put on an unusual gravity on their countenance
whenever I spoke; and it was as much out of my power to raise a laugh as
formerly it had been for me to open my mouth without one.
“While my affairs were in this posture I went one day into the circle
without my fool’s dress. The Simple, who would still speak to me, cried
out, ‘So, fool, what’s the matter now?’ ‘Sir,’ answered I, ‘fools are
like to be so common a commodity at court, that I am weary of my coat.’
‘How dost thou mean?’ answered the Simple; ‘what can make them commoner
now than usual?’--‘O, sir,’ said I, ‘there are ladies here make your
majesty a fool every day of their lives.’ The Simple took no notice
of my jest, and several present said my bones ought to be broke for my
impudence; but it pleased the queen, who, knowing Adelaide, whom she
hated, to be the cause of my disgrace, obtained me of the king, and took
me into her service; so that I was henceforth called the queen’s fool,
and in her court received the same honor, and had as much wit, as I had
formerly had in the king’s. But as the queen had really no power
unless over her own domestics, I was not treated in general with that
complacence, nor did I receive those bribes and presents, which had once
fallen to my share.
“Nor did this confined respect continue long: for the queen, who had in
fact no taste for humor, soon grew sick of my foolery, and, forgetting
the cause for which she had taken me, neglected me so much, that her
court grew intolerable to my temper, and I broke my heart and died.
“Minos laughed heartily at several things in my story, and then, telling
me no one played the fool in Elysium, bid me go back again.”