While Miesko was making Pomeranian princes glad by his imbecility and the fun drawn out of it, Frederick Taubman was keeping the Saxon court in merry humour by his conceits. But Taubman, though as lowly born as Miesko, was a scholar, and was not officially a fool. He was something of a poet, something of a philosopher, was well-read, was a collegiate professor; but therewith he was poor, yet was fond of luxurious living, and therefore he was glad to take his eccentricities to court, where their exhibition was paid for in ducats, rich viands, costly wines, and endless jollification. He was the court fool in all but being officially appointed; and, with better qualifications than many, used the license common to all. On one occasion, a courtier who was shaking hands with him, remarked, “Taubman, your coarse hands are only fit for digging.” Taubman squeezed the courtier’s fingers, and answered, “I am already handling a clod.” He once asked Cardinal Clesel, if he knew where God was _not_. “In hell,” answered the Cardinal readily.--“Nor in Rome,” rejoined the wit; “or wherefore is his Vicegerent there?” Taubman died in 1613. The professional fools increased after his death. The Elector John George I. maintained, in the year 1639, no less than three at the same time. Two of them were named Michael, and one Caspar; and from a tailor’s bill quoted by Flögel, it is very clear that, gay as the official dress may have been, it was often patched and turned, before a new one was given in its place. But, as in the case of Taubman, so in this later period were poor and witty scholars welcome at the German courts. Bolla was one of these; he was an Italian, who had his home in the palace at Heidelberg, where he proved himself to be, what was commonly said of him, _virum ad risum natum_, a man born for laughter. He excelled in macaronic poetry, and not only accepted the name of fool, but begged for fool’s largess in very indifferent Latin verse,--of which here is a sample:-- “Amate semper vestrum zanum, Sed aperite, vestro more, manum. Hoc precatur vester zanus, Corpore, non crumena sanus.” It was not only the poor scholar that now was even more welcome for his wit than the official jester. As in Saxony, so in Poland, the liveliest sayings were uttered by non-professional individuals. At the courts in both places just named, the acknowledged court wit, for a long period, was Frederick, Baron of Kyau, who excelled, we are told, both as a general and as a joker. In the same list must be enrolled the Baron von Gundling, who commenced his career of eccentricity at the court of Frederick William I. of Prussia, at the commencement of the last century.