Frölich, the fool, was an intelligent and not a bad man. He lived quietly and saved his money, and very likely laughed in his sleeve at those who laughed at him. Every morning Frölich, dressed in his curious coat and hat, rode to the castle, from whence he returned, frequently very late at night, to his own house, called Narrenhaus, which was situated close to the bridge. It was very seldom that any one called on him, therefore Fraulein Lote, his elderly housekeeper, was greatly astonished when, very early one morning, she heard a knock at the door.
The fool was not yet dressed, neither was his horse ready, and the knock frightened him, for he feared that some capricious fancy had seized the King and induced him to send after him. Fraulein Lote was of the same opinion when, on peeping through the window, she perceived a tall young man in the court livery standing on the threshold.
After having glanced at him, Lote inquired what he wanted.
"I should like to say a few words to Frölich," said the new-comer.
"Is it from the King?"
There was no answer; but as secret messengers were by no means uncommon, Lote did not dare to refuse him admittance, so, opening the door, she ushered him into the room where the fool was dressing. Frölich turned towards the stranger as he entered, and, immediately assuming his rôle, saluted him with exaggerated politeness, and, bending half-double, inquired,--
"What can we do for your Excellency?"
"Mr. Frölich," said the stranger modestly, "do not joke at a poor man; you may rather be excellency than me."
"What?" said Frölich, "I before you? Was it the King that sent you with such a joke?"
"No; I am come on my own account, and I beg you for a moment's conversation."