History of English Humour Volume I Part 17

Professed fools seem to have been highly appreciated in the time of Shakespeare. They do not correspond to our modern idea of a fool, because there was intention in their actions, and yet we could not have considered them to be really sensible men. Nor had they great talent, their gifts being generally lower than those of our professed wits.

Addison observes that, "when a man of wit makes us laugh, it is by betraying some oddness or infirmity in his own character," and at the present day, not only do those who indulge much in humour often say things approaching nonsense, and make themselves in other ways ridiculous, but their object, being entirely idle diversion and pleasantry, appears foolish and puerile. Those who cultivate humour are not generally to be complimented on their success, and a popular writer has thus cla.s.sified fools--"First, the ordinary fool; secondly the fool who is one, and does not know it; thirdly, the fool who is not satisfied with being one in reality, but undertakes in addition to play the fool."

Thus, to a certain extent we may always regard a professed wit as a silly fellow, but still at the present day the acts or sayings of an absolute idiot or lunatic, would be depressing and offensive, and could afford little amus.e.m.e.nt in any way except accidentally.[54] They would resemble the incongruities in dreams which although strange are not generally laughable. And if we are not amused with a fool, neither are we with a man who imitates him, although Cicero says that humour consists in a man who is not a fool, speaking as though he were one.

Some mistake supposed to be made by an ordinary man is what amuses us, and although humorous sayings originated in an imitation of ludicrous things, and Quintilian's observation sometimes holds good that the same things, which if they drop from us unintentionally are foolish, if we imitate them are humorous; still humour is not confined to this; there is generally no such imitation, and the witty sayings of the present day are seldom representations of such things as anyone would utter in earnest, whether he were a fool or not.

We must not confuse folly and wit, though they may exist in the same person and in close relationship. The latter requires intelligence and intention. If a humorous man ever purposely enacts the dullard, the impersonation is always modified--he is like Snug, the joiner, who does not "fright the ladies." There is always some peculiar point in his blunders; if he acted the fool to the life we should not laugh with him.

We always see something clever and admirable in him, and to be successful in this way, a man should possess considerable mental gifts, and be able to gauge the feelings of others. Still we can hardly a.s.sent to the proposition that "it takes a wise man to make a fool." A man may be witty without having any constructive power of mind. It is easier to find fault than to be faultless, to see a blemish than to produce what is perfect--a pilot may point out rocks, but not be able to steer a safe course.

At the time of which we are now speaking, the double character of the court fool corresponded with that early and inferior humour which was always on the verge of the ludicrous. The connection thus established, long remained and led to witty observations being often spoken of as "foolerie." Upon this conceit or confusion Shakespeare founded the speech of Jaques in "As you like it."

Act II. Scene IV.

_Jaques._ A fool! a fool!--I met a fool i' the forest, A motley fool:--a miserable fool!-- As I do live by food, I met a fool: Who laid him down, and basked him in the sun, And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms.

In good set terms--and yet a motley fool.

"Good morrow, fool," quoth I. "No, Sir," quoth he, "Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune."

And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking on it with lack l.u.s.tre eye, Says very wisely, "It is ten o'clock;"

"Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world wags; 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more t'will be eleven, And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot, And thereby hangs a tale."

There is nothing very laughable in the above reflections, but they contain a deep satire, and afford a beautiful example of Shakespearian complexity. From the mixture of wisdom and folly compounded in the "fool" of the day--who was then, it must be remembered, the monitor of the great--it is here implied that in his awkward way he sometimes arrived at truth better than the sage. As supremely wise men are often regarded as fools, so what seems folly may be the highest wisdom--"motley's your only wear."

The fool is generally represented in Shakespeare as saying things which have a certain wit and shrewdness.

_Clown._ G.o.d bless thee, lady.

_Olivia._ Take the fool away.

_Clo._ Do you not hear, fellows? Take away the lady.

Good Madonna, why mournest thou?

_Oli._ Good fool, for my brother's death.

_Clo._ I think his soul is in h.e.l.l, Madonna.

_Oli._ I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

_Clo._ The more fool, Madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven. Take away the fool, gentlemen.

In King Lear.

_Fool._ Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a bitter fool and a sweet one?

_Lear._ No, lad, teach me.

_Fool._ That lord that counselled thee

To give away thy land, Come place him here by me-- Do thou for him stand: The sweet and bitter fool Will presently appear, The one in motley here, The other found out there.

_Lear._ Dost thou call me fool, boy?

_Fool._ All thy other t.i.tles thou hast given away that thou wast born with.

_Kent._ This is not altogether a fool, my lord.

The fact was that wit was now gradually improving, and was being wielded by so called fools in such a way that it could not be confounded with fatuity. The time was approaching when the humour manufactured by professed jesters would not be appreciated. Something higher and keener, such as Shakespeare has here shadowed forth would be required. This was not reached in Ben Jonson's time, but fools and their artifices are by him discarded for something more natural, for country b.u.mpkins and servants, ludicrous in their stupidity, knavery and drunkenness. As civilization advanced, jugglers and clowns were relegated to country fairs.

Henry the Eighth, at the commencement of his reign was a great patron of men of wit and learning, and probably the humour of More, as well as his virtue, recommended him to the King. We read that at Cardinal Morton's entertainments of his Christmas company, the future Chancellor, then a boy, would often mount the stage and extemporize with so much wit and talent as to surpa.s.s all the professional players. During his university course, and shortly afterwards, he wrote many neat Latin epigrams of which the two following rough translations will give some idea--

"A thief about to be accused, implored Advice, and sent his counsel many a pound, The counsel, when o'er mighty tomes he'd pored, Replied, 'If you'd escape, you must abscond.'

"Once in the loving cup, a guest saw flies, Removed them, drank, and then put back a few.

And, being questioned, sagely thus replies, 'I like them not--but cannot speak for you.'"

He was to the last fond of pleasantry and kept a jester.

The daughter of Henry the Eighth and Anne Boleyn[55] could scarcely have been deficient in mirthfulness, and we find that the dangers through which she pa.s.sed in her youth were not able to extinguish Elizabeth's love of humour. According to the custom of the day she exhibited this not only in her sayings, but, as comedians were then often received in great houses, she ordered in 1583 that twelve of them should be made grooms of the chamber, be sworn the Queen's servants, and be arrayed in her livery. The most remarkable of these was Tarlton. He came of humble origin. Fuller says that, while tending his father's swine, a servant of Robert, Earl of Leicester, pa.s.sing by was so pleased with his _happy unhappy_ answers that he took him to court. But Tarlton's humour was often that of the common fool, and depended generally upon action, look, and voice. His face was in this respect his fortune, for he had a flat nose and squinting eyes. Nash mentions that on one occasion he "peept out his head," probably with a grimace, at the audience, which caused a burst of laughter, and led one of the justices, who did not understand the fun, to beat the people on the bare pates, inasmuch as they, "being farmers and hinds, had dared to laugh at the Queen's men." He was celebrated for his jigs, _i.e._ extempore songs accompanied with tabor and pipe, and sometimes with dancing.

Fuller says he had great influence with Elizabeth, and could "undumpish"

her at pleasure. Her favourites were wont to go to him to prepare their access to her, and "he told the Queen more of her faults than most of her chaplains, and cured her melancholy better than all her physicians."

Bohun says that, "at supper she would divert herself with her friends and attendants, and if they made no answer she would put them upon mirth and pleasant discourse with great civility. She would then also admit Tarlton, a famous comedian and pleasant talker, and other men to divert her with stories of the town, and the common jests or accidents, but so that they kept within the bounds of modesty." Tarlton, on one occasion, cast reflections upon Leicester; and said of Raleigh, "the knave commands the Queen," at which she was so much offended that she forbade any of her jesters to approach her table.

The jests of Scogan, or rather those attributed to him, were very popular in Elizabeth's time. This man was court-fool to Henry VII., and is said to have been "of pleasant wit and bent to merrie devices." He was fond of practical jokes, and often attacked the clergy. Elizabeth seems to have had a natural gift of humour, and we read of many of her witty sayings. On one occasion, upon an archbishop finding fault with some of her actions, and quoting Scripture to prove she had acted more as a politician than a Christian. "I see, my lord," she replied, "that you have read the scriptures, but not the book of Kings." She was so well acquainted with proverbs, that on being presented with a collection of English aphorisms, and told by the author that it contained them all, she answered, "Nay, where is 'Bate me an ace, quoth Bolton.'"

Among the sayings, good for the period, which have been attributed to her, we read that when the Archduke raised the siege of Grave, the Queen who heard of it before her secretary, said to him, "Wot you that the Archduke is risen from the Grave." When at Lord Burleigh's she promised to make seven knights, and the gentlemen to be so honoured were placed in a line as the Queen was going out. The least worthy of them, however, were through interest with Lord Burleigh placed first, so that they might have precedence of creation. But the Queen pa.s.sed down the row and took no notice of them; but when she had reached the screen, turned, and observing, "I had almost forgotten my promise," proceeded to knight from the lower end. On one of her Privy Council saying "Your Majesty was too politic for my Lord Burleigh," she replied, "I have but followed the scripture--'the first shall be last and the last first.'"

The cares of sovereignty, and the opposition of her Roman Catholic subjects led Elizabeth's humour to a.s.sume a somewhat severe complexion.

Her thoughts gradually became more earnest, and her jests cynical.

Moreover, as seen in Shakespeare, the age in which she lived was reflective, and the budding activity of mind was directed towards great interests. There was not that impression of the vanity of all things, which grows up with the extension and maturity of society, and attracts the mind to more fanciful and less grave considerations. A good contrast between Elizabeth's position, and that of James I. may be seen in the following occurrences. When Henry IV. had given the order of St. Michael to Nicolas Clifford and Anthony Shirley, she commanded them to return it. "I will not," she said, "have my sheep follow the pipe of a strange shepherd;"[56] but when James I. was told that several n.o.blemen of his court and council, received pensions from Spain, the King replied that he knew it well, and only wished the King of Spain would give them ten times as much, as it would render him less able to make war upon him.

James was a man of a very eccentric and grotesque fancy, combined with a considerable amount of intelligence and learning. He was particularly fond of religious controversy, and wrote what he considered to be an important work on "Demonologie." From one pa.s.sage we might suppose that he thought it sinful to laugh, as he says that man can only laugh, because he can only sin. But he kept two clowns for his amus.e.m.e.nt, and also appreciated Ben Jonson, to whom he gave the direction of the Court Masques. He occasionally made some caustic remarks, which have come down to us, such as, "Who denys a thing he even now spake, is like him that looks in my face and picks my pocket." "A travelling preacher and a travelling woman never come to any good at all."

Sir Henry Wooton told him how the Prince of Conde sued for the t.i.tle of Altesse from the Synod of Venice. The King replied, "The Prince had good reason to sue for it, and that the Seigniory had done ill to deny it him, considering that the world knew how well he deserved it; it being his custom to raise himself upon every man's back, and to make himself the higher by every man's tail he could get upon. And for that cause he hoped to see him elevated by the just Justice of G.o.d to as high a dignity as the gallows at last."

James the First's writings were mostly of a religious character, and some of them were sufficiently ludicrous. But in his "Counterblaste to Tobacco," his indignation is often mixed with humour. He observes that smoking came from the Indians, and continues--

"And now, good countreymen let vs (I pray you) consider what honour or policy can move vs to imitate the barbarous and beastly maneres of the wilde, G.o.dlesse and slavish Indians, especially in so vile and stinking a custome? Shall wee that disdaine to imitate the manners of our neighbour France.... Shall wee, I say without blushing abase ourselves so farre as to imitate these beastly Indians, slaves to the Spaniards, refuse to the world, and as yet aliens from the Holy Covenant of G.o.d?

Why doe wee not as well imitate them in walking naked as they doe? in preferring gla.s.ses, feathers, and such toyes to gold and precious stones, as they doe? Yea, why do wee not deny G.o.d, and adore the divel as they doe?"

He proceeds to combat the theory, "That the braines of all men beeing naturally cold and wet, all drie and hote things should be good for them." "It is," he says, "as if a man, because the liver is hote, and as it were an oven to the stomache, would therefore apply and weare close upon his liver and stomache a cake of lead; he might within a short time (I hope) bee susteined very cheape at an Ordinarie, besides the clearing of his conscience from that dreadful sinne of gluttonie."

Towards the end he gives some medical testimony--

"Surely smoke becomes a kitchin farre better than a dining chamber, and yet it makes a kitchin also oftentimes in the inward parts of men, soyling and infecting them with an vnctuous and oily kind of soote, as hath been found in some great tobacco takers, that after their death, were opened."

Addison, speaking of James' love of jesting, observes:--"The age in which the pun chiefly flourished was in the reign of King James the First. That learned monarch was himself a tolerable punster, and made very few bishops or privy-councillors that had not sometime or other signalized themselves by a clinch or a conundrum. It was therefore in this age that the pun appeared with pomp and dignity. It had been before admitted into merry speeches and ludicrous compositions, but was now delivered with great gravity from the pulpit, or p.r.o.nounced in the most solemn manner at the council-table." Verbal humour continued to be admired for its ingenuity in the reign of Charles I. The childish taste of the time in this respect is prominently exhibited in the "Fames Roule," written by a Mrs. Mary f.a.ge, in honour of the royal family and princ.i.p.al peers of the realm. It consists of short poems, and each one forms an acrostic, and commences with an anagram of the name.