"The Countess Cosel."
Fröhlich looked round and put his fingers on his lips.
"Who pronounces that name?" said he. "There is nothing to laugh at, and you know that I live by laughter."
"But you can tell me at least what has become of her?"
"Then you do not know? Where have you been?"
"Far."
"I think that even afar they talk about that. That woman in whose slavery our lord was, it seems, is now imprisoned by him, and her captivity will last longer than her domination."
"And where is she?" asked Zaklika.
"They say that she is in Nossen Castle, but to be sure they will build something finer for her," laughed the fool by habit, but sadly. "No! I would not like to be a woman. Speaking frankly, it is not much comfort to be a man either. If I had my choice, I would like to be a donkey. Nobody eats donkey's meat, his skin is thick, and when long-ears begins to sing, everybody runs away and leaves him alone. If one adds that he has always a good appetite, and that he can live on old broom, one sees that there is no happier being in the world."
"Nossen! Nossen!" repeated Zaklika thoughtfully, having forgotten about the fool.