IMAGINARY INTERVIEW WITH MONSIEUR TRIBOULET

Continued from page 10… keep your beloved daughter hidden?

Hugo’s Triboulet, like his slightly more modern incarnation Rigoletto, was as much author as victim of his personal tragedy. But what about Nicolas, the real jester? What would he have to say about it? If only I could travel back through the centuries and ask him. It might have gone something like this…

JC:

So, when did you begin…performing for King Francis I?

Triboulet:

It started before him, with King Louis XII. His Majesty heard that his footmen were antagonizing the village idiot—me—and demanded I be presented to him. I suppose I…well, I seized the moment, didn’t I? I impressed him.

JC:

Just like that? He made you his jester on the spot?

Triboulet:

Of course. Look at me.

JC:

Yeah, we should talk about that.

Triboulet:

What’s to discuss? It is my lucky birthright to look as I do. The absurdly small size of my head is due to a condition called microcephaly. The hump is real too but, in truth, I do favor it a bit for effect. I was truly born to this life. This blessed life.

JC:

I…okay. Was it different with Francis I? Your role in the court?

Triboulet:

Role? With Louis, I was a mere buffoon, a curiosity. But Francis, he made me necessary. I was his Iago, more present in court than his chief consort.

JC:

Did you begin to feel like you were one of them? The nobility?

Triboulet:

Of course! I spread their rumors for them. I delivered their insults when they feared to. I was the all-knowing shadow during all their ridiculous jealousies. You don’t trust that sort of role to the fool. That is the function of a colleague.

JC:

You can’t truly believe that.

Triboulet: No?

JC: No. You were a pet to them. They mocked you openly. Come on, why else would you have worked so hard to keep your daughter a secret?

Triboulet: You have me confused with Monsieur Hugo’s and Maestro Verdi’s versions of me. Sadly, I was childless.

JC: Oh…I apologize…

Continued on the next page…