Charles had native fools in his other dominions. In Spain, we meet with that excellent jester, Don Francis; also with Pedro de San Erbas and Zapata. There was another in the service of Charles, named Pape Theun, who had originally exercised some office of trust. Of these, Francis was the wittiest; but it is said that the sharpness of his wit brought about his assassination. He was certainly mortally wounded by assassins, but his wit kept by him to the last. He was assailed at his own door, and his wife, hearing the consequent disturbance, cried out from within to know what was the matter. “Nothing at all, mistress,” exclaimed the fool, “they have merely killed your husband.” Another fool, Perico de Ayala, who was a retainer in the house of the Marquis de Vilena, attended on Don Francis while he was dying, and piously asked him to pray for poor Perico in the next world. “I will, I will,” said Francis; “but, Perico, suppose you tie a string round my little finger, lest I forget it.” This specimen of wit does not say much for the official fool; and it is still worse in the case of Pedro de San Erbas, the only incident connected with whose office, with which I am acquainted, reveals rather the wit of his master than his own. Thus we are told, that after the abdication of Charles, he held a court at Valladolid, to receive the farewell compliments of the nobles and ladies of the vicinity. When the ceremony had concluded, Pedro approached to take leave of his old patron. At seeing him, Charles took off his hat, and Pedro thereupon asked if the act was one of courtesy, or simply to indicate that he was no longer Emperor. “Neither, Pedro,” answered the prince; “I do it to signify that all I can give you now is this simple token of civility.” Of Zapata nothing is known save his remark when Charles, who owed his entire household a year’s salary, once observed to his courtiers, after teasing the fool for a long time, “He will soon pay me back again.” “Ah!” exclaimed Zapata, “what can I pay back, when not a soul under your roof has received a doit of their salary for a twelvemonth?” This remark showed the bold freedom rather than the wittiness of Zapata’s tongue. As for Pape Theun, he seems to have been rather a practical than a loquacious joker. He was insolent rather than witty of speech, and when this insolence brought him into disgrace, the jokes he played to recover the goodwill of his master were coarse jokes, acceptable to coarse people in coarse times, but the repeating of which would assuredly not be acceptable to my readers.