The monarch in question was Martin of Arragon, who reigned from 1394 to 1410. His favourite jester was the renowned Borra, who drove such a thriving trade by his jokes, that he is said to have been worth a ton of gold. He looked down upon many a poor philosopher, remarking the while, “I have made more by my folly than that fellow by all his wisdom!” His influence with the King was unbounded, and the bribes he received in consequence tended very much to increase his fortune. What he obtained in this way can only be guessed at. That his jokes were rewarded in magnificent style, we may judge from the circumstance which occurred when Borra exerted himself professionally at a banquet at which Sigismund, afterwards Emperor, was present. The latter, pleased with Borra, so loaded him with silver ere he left the room, that the fool could not carry it away without bending. Folly was never more richly paid, except, perhaps, by Queen Sibylla da Forcia, who paid her joculators in gold, and much pleasanter coin besides. Borra, as before intimated, killed his royal patron by a joke. King Martin was suffering from indigestion through too greedily devouring an entire goose. As he lay groaning on his bed, Borra skipped into the room with a merry air, and the Monarch inquired of him, whence he came. “Out of the next vineyard,” answered the fool, “where I saw a young deer hanging by his tail from a tree, as if some one had so punished him for stealing figs.” When it is added that the King died of laughter at this joke, the historians forget the goose and the indigestion. Alphonso, King of Arragon, had for _his_ fool, one Luis Lopez, who, according to Cervantes, lies buried in no less a place than the cathedral of Cordova. Lopez kept, like other fools, a “Fools’ Chronicle,” in which he entered the follies of the court, and the names of the offenders. The King had given 10,000 ducats to a Moor to purchase horses with, in Barbary. Some days subsequently, on looking over the Chronicle, he was astonished to find a page containing simply his name. “Cousin Luis,” said his Majesty, “why do you enrol me among fools?” “For trusting 10,000 ducats to an infidel Moor, without security,” answered Luis. “Tush, man! The Moor is honest, and will bring back either horses or money.” “Then if he does,” said Lopez, “I will scratch out your name and put his in its place.” The above joke was used in various forms, till it grew old, and fools of quality would no longer plagiarize it. It is told of at least one jester at every court. Many fools would have been above such a jest at all; for there were some who, though jesters, joked with instruction in view. Michael Aitzinger was one of these. I do not know that he can be strictly called a Spanish fool, being a Belgian, but he held the office at the court of Philip II. of Spain, though he became better known for various heavy historical essays than for light jests quickly spoken.