Triboulet
A monologue*
Mesdames et messieurs, Nicola Ferrial
At your service, court jester risorial
Or, si vous voulez
Plain and simple Triboulet.
I was an inspiration to Victor Hugo
And again to Verdi, for Rigoletto
Many have claimed that Shakespeare
Based on me the Fool in his King Lear
But my fame, my great name I owe
Poor purveyor of laughs and farce
To having dared slap the royal arse-
Of the portly king François of France:
He loved seeing me dance and prance
And at my antics would roar with merriment
Much to his courtiers’ disagreement.
Oft had they poured their venom in his ear
But Triboulet was without fear
As royal rebuke was aimed at them
And not at me, too invaluable a gem
My dealings with him became bolder and bolder
I would now often tap him on the shoulder
Call him tu, or pretend to box his jowl
Which made the courtiers scowl
But François would smile, merrily wink
And pour me a good long drink.
But mistresses and kings grow hot and cold
One day they sweet-eye you, the next they scold!
Something that the unwise Triboulet
Forgot when he got carried away
And in his uncontrolled mirth
He approached the royal girth
And to everybody’s great outrage.
He slapped his soft nether appendage
His majesty grew pale, his eyes popped out
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Trembling with ire he ‘gan to shout
That’s perfidy, high treason Triboulet
At the very least a gross lese-majesté
And for your crime a just chastisement
Is first your head followed by dismemberment.
I knew better than to beg for mercy
And said, what your maj says will necessarily be.
My pretend equanimity took him by surprise
And King François, screwing up his eyes
Suddenly arrived at a different conclusion
Triboulet, he said, I’ll grant you full remission
If you can come up with a greater insult
Happily I gained an instantaneous result:
François, quoth I, your lardy nether part
Drooped so much it looked like that of your tart
I mean your queen!
He had himself demanded the worse aspersion
Who could have found a more better version?
But as I said … kings and mistresses!
This time I truly was in a mess.
The giddy Triboulet had all but forgotten
That mocking the queen was verboten.
Triboulet, I hereby re-iterate your fate
No way on this will I now capitulate
But for old time’s sake, I’ll make one concession
You choose the manner of your termination.
Triboulet, think like you’ve never thought before
I told myself, if you wish to live some more.
Majesty, I said, I wish my end to be age-related
Which made both him and me greatly elated
Yes it’s of old age I said, I wish to die,
He laughed so much he began to cry
That response is a gem, you whoreson rapscallion
But to the icy shores of perfidious Albion
I banish thee, to drink warm ale and eat boiled cabbage
You caused me much mirth, even as you mocked my girth
Go enjoy your dotage and live to a ripe old age
- *a slight French accent would help.
