~'l'UDIES IX 'l'HE

DE'TEr~OP~V[EN'r OF THE FOOL

IN THE

A 11ftesis {(l)l)},o~'ed .fo)' the Degree 0./ llI(fsteJ' 0.( Arts in tlte

Unit'ersity oj'London

BY

OLIVE l\lAltY nUSBY, l\I.A.

HUl\[PIIREY ~lILFOHD

OXFOHD UNIVEHSITY PHESS LONDON EDINBUHGH GLASGOW COPENHAGEN

NEW YOHK TOHONTO l\lELBOUHNE CAPE TOWN

BOMBAY CALCUTTA l\IADHAS SHANGHAI

1!J28

PRINTED IN ENGLAND

AT THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

BY FREDERICK HALL

CHAPTER

}:-';TIWDUCTIO:-';

CO"NTENTS

1. TilE ORIGI:-';S OF THE E:-';GLISH STAGE FOOL

II. TilE EYOLUTIO:-'; OF THE FOOL AS A DIL\MA'I'IC

PAGE

G

8

CIlAIL\CTEH. • 25

III. TIlE EVOLUTIOX OF 'rIlE FOOL I~ CIIAHACTERIZA-

TIOX-LI:\"ES OF DE\,ELOP~lE:\,l'

IV. TIlE SA~lE CO:\TI:\'UED-SU~DIARY OF CIIAIL\CTER­

IS'rICS •

CO:-';CLUSIOX

41

G3

83

STUDIES IN TIlE DEVELOPl\fENT OF 'fI-IE - :FOOL IN TilE ELIZABETH.AN 1) Rl\l\[A

IN'rRODUCTION

Some talk of things of state, of puling stnff: There '8 nothing in a play to it clown t if he Have the grace to hit 011 't; that's the thing indeed: The king shows well, but he sets off the king.

TilE dramatic ideals expressed by the 11ayor of Queenborough in these words are fairly representative of those of the Elizabethan playgoer in general. The l?9.E.!~t):-_Q.LJJH~_,J~ol was one of the. most striking features of the ElJglish ~tage at the time of its greatest-'\:~ __ ~ _~~. ~ L.- ~ ____ .

glory. It can he pro\-ed m'er and over again from contemporary references, usually satirical outbursts fmm writers whose taste and sense of propriety were outraged by the intrusion of the buffoon into the sphere of seriolls drama, in flagrant defiance of classic precedent.

(These critics spent their strength largely in vain; the delight of the people ill the clown 1 was, for a long time, at least, strong enough to

1 pre\'ail Ol'er academic criticism. Hall, Jonson, and others might satirize the taste of the public, hut in spite of their sarcasms the fool remained for many a year in th;-pop':!.!ar estimi!-tion~he - fi~st m~n in the confiili1f~--~{m;' ;t;o~ an attraction he exerted is prm'ed by the stress usually laid on his role in the titles of the plays. It was not sufficient to advertise a piece as A Knack to know a ]{nave ; special mention had to he made of 'Kemp's applauded 11errimentcs of the men of Goteham '. 'Yithout a fool, unless some other powerful attraction was ~ubstitllted, a play was liable to hecome 'cal'iare to the general '. And this the drallIatists ~peedily recognized, llnd ,,-jth bllt few exceptions they yielded to the cry of the playgoers, :lIld ga ve them what they dem'lIIded, the more ,-eadily WIH'Jl they callle to realize that' to intermingle merry jests ill a serious matter' is 110

1 The terms (clown' and (fool' will he 1lsed synonymously in this study, ~s i ~ gene! ally the ea~e ~ the I,lays themscl\'('s_ -

G TIlE l"OOL I1\" THE ELIZABETHAN DHA:\IA

, indecorum " but I'ath('r a mor(' faithful representation of lIat\1l'e than drama that is wholly comic or wholly tragic.

'Yhence 5-~le this il~~C11~le~l:~lld of the EI~lish pll!?-li~ f<)r the · huffooneries of the fool? In the case of the earliest forms ot drama

one reaSOII is ~'i~us. l\i)~~t.~rlcs and ~Iorali!.ic~....:"~ r~ cdifyin..?, no ; doubt, but the latter in particular m1lst frequcntly' h(~ hecome , wearison1(', especially to the less devout members of the audience;

!h~refoTe tll<; :Qedl ~l~d the Vice were illtmili~~ provide a little \(liversion in the form of buffoonen', always dear to the uncultn'afea ' mind, and conspicllOllS ill-~-;;'): -form' of popular drama. This

de,-elopment, howe\,er, was by no means peculiar to England. It ' was directly paralleled, as ,,,ill be shown later, by the introduction of

n. fool into the French :1\1 ysteries. Doubtless, too, thc stage fool

'satisfied ;lJ)otbel' want the desire of th .. ~~_p-~lblic for a satiJical com- ·1 ~~ntaI:y on the life and events of the tim~now largely sURpl.i~ hy , Punch' and his lesser brethren, but then impossible except under the protection of the cap and bells. But this function, again, cannot he regarded as the chief S011rce of the peculiar love of the English people for the fool. In England he played a mnch more prominent part in the history of the drama than elsewhere, for there he enjoyed not only a far longer life hut also a far wider range and licence than in other European countries, where he had no snch recognized entree into serious and e'-en tragic drama. It seems, therefore, as if the extraordinary vogue of the English clown 11111St have been due to some quality inherent in the English nature. Such (\ quality undoubtedly exists, but its nature is easier to illustrate than to define. It is that same instinct which prompts the Englishman to take refuge in a joke whenever he feels in danger of lippearing unduly sentimental or serious, and to jest in the face of misfortune, peril, or

even certain death . [he ... close blending of comedy and tragedy chara~teristic of the Elizabethan dram~,,,as being paralleled daily five yem'.§.-_Zl~ in the almost incredible stories from OUI' trenches and ~ttleships--stories at which ,~e laughed irresistibly, but with a lUl~p in the .. throat.

And as delight in the stage fool was a particularly English taste, so too the fool himself, in consequence of the importance of his part upon our stage, and the care bestowed upon it by our dramatists, acquired all essentially English character. The French fools men­tioned above are in the main conventional jesters, and we do not feel that they are French in the same way that the English clowll; in spite of the ,-ariety of influences which seem to have be(,11 at "'ork in his ne,'elopment, is Eng-lish. Hi!' distinctive character was

I:\THODUCTIO~ .... I

c\'ident Iy rccog'lIized in other countries. From the time that Ellglish playN!\ began to yisit Germany) I we find constallt references to ' John, the Ellglish clown " IIOt OJ'lly in connexioll with the English adors bllt also ill the titles of German plays, into which, owing to his great SIlCCCSS in Germany, the clown was introduced. SIIC1. a play is Ayrer's Tyranny of Queen Gout, where a. prominent character is 'Jahn Klan, del' cngellendisch Narr '.

"'hat then was this famous' Ellglish c1oWIl'? _Every_<?.!!-~ kno\\'~

~d1at Shakes12~re's fools are, and knows !!.!!~~ they !~pr.e~ellt the t t Yery ~illilllatiDlL<?! c.!owIUlge. Bllt they are too often regarded as separate g'!"owths, independ~nt creatioll.,§ of Shakespeare's genius, instead of being considered in relati~ to the host of fools who exist in t\.l~ worlZ"s _or" other ....Eli~h(~l dramatists-fools who are often \yorthy of consi~krationJorJ.heiLQl\'n merits, and always as showing the g-eneral de\'elopment of clownage ..... The object of this study) then, is not to deal with Shakespeare's clowns.i!!... t~\'es-that would be superfluous labour-but to take the average', Elizabethan clown, to trace his origin and the lines all wl~ich 11e den'loped, both as a dramatic and as an indiYidual chal'actel'. And in the course of this process, the fact will, I hopt', incidentally appear, that ShakespeaJ"{"s fools are no independent growth, but have their place in the regular sllccession of stage merry-makers, owing mnch to their predecessors, and ill their tllrn handing on the tradition, infinitely enriched, to their successors. Yet this comparison of Touchstone....and his brother fools with the less noted Elizabethan fools (a comparison which call1lot always be made formally, but will continually be, kept ill view) should at the same time show more vividly than e\'er how infinitely, ill c10wlIage as in all other respects, Shakespeare's genius transcended that of his rivals. Good clmnls, as it will be seen, are 1I0t lacking in the works of other dramatists, but llot even the best of them can approach Lear's fool, Touchstone Feste ttoHh-

Apart from theIr m eriol'ity in wit and humour and in dramatic , importance) they ha\'e allother constant wealmess-tlH~Y- ar~ !:;Ir,ely -l more than downs, wherea~"peare's fools are human heill~_ '

If thcf;e poillts are brought out in this study, it will not ha\'e failed of its purpose.

I Abollt ],')90. Sec COIIll, Shakesprrlrl' ill (Jerma llY,

CI-IAPTER I

THE ORIGINS OF THE ENGLISH STAGE FOOL

, STULTORU:\I numerus infinitns est.' This, the fa\'ollrite text of the mediacyal satirists, also describes One prominent feature of mediaeval life. For the fools of the 1iiddle Ages, if ]]ot cxactly infinite in number, at least formed a goodly host, and were by no means confined to anyone part of the life of the times. The ~ourts and great households had as a matter of course their professional fools; the church had its Feast oJ.F...9J21s.; Fool Societies carried on the tradition of the Feast in secular life; and literature had its' Ship of Fools' and many other writings of a similar type. Hence it was only natural that when the mediaeval drama arose the stage too should have its fool. Moreover, since'Jhe fools of the da_~J3Q. varied, it was natural thaLtb~stagebu.ffoon, being subject to so many influences., should be oL...<·Ldi~tinctly complex character; and this is undoubtedly the case] The difficulty in dealing with his origin is not to find possible sm;ces-of these there is no lack-but to decide what part each played in determining his character. It may be admitted at once that the complete performance of this task is impossible. Many of the stage clown's comic devices are part of the common stock-in-trade of merry-makers of all ages-crude and boisterous horse-play, coarse personal satire, gibes at women and love, and the like-and in the case of other characteristics it is impossible to decide from which of several likely sources they werc drawn. All that can be done here is to indicate each of the various possible sources of influence, pointing out any characteristic which seems to hase been derived from that source rather than from any other. The use which the English stage fool made of these character­istics will be described more fully later; the object of this chapter is rather to show what influences were at work during his development, and how they operated.

1'he <?ldest of these i~fluences is probably that exertcd by those strolling 'vari~ty~ntertainers', <;~lkd variously joculators, jugglers, jongleurs) and many other names, who wandered all over 'Vestern Europe in the Middle Ages, earning a precarious livelihood by their performances in the vctriolls tOWIlS and great houses. For these

()IUGI~S OF TIlE E~GLISII ~T"A(;E FOOL n

iOllgh'llr~ appear to han~_bcell the Illcdiac\'al SlIc('('ssors of the buffooll s llf the Homan drama in the time of its decay. \Yith this qucstion in gelleml it is not 11(1 cessary to deal at lcngth here, ~ill('e the c\'idcnee, consisting mostly of attad,s on the stage and, later, of attacks on the minstrels or joculators, ha~ alrmdy he(,l1 collected Illorc than once. 1

Fragml'lItary as it is, almost certainly there emerges from it the fact th:tt the jongleurs combined in \'aryillg proportions the qnalities of thC' honollred hard of Germanic times and the coarse lllHl licentiolls buffoons of the latel' Roman stage, often adding to thesc, acrobatic and other tricks acquired from other strolling entertainers of the ~I iddle l\ges.

Proof is not wanting that performers of this type fonnd their way to England at an early date. In the eighth century we fbHI the beginlling of a series of clerical attacks on the once·re\·cred (scop '­att,~·iiich are not jllstifiC'd by anything in his poetry, and can ollly be explained by the supposition that the type had becomc debascd by the influence of performc,'s of a lower class. This hypothesis is supported by the confusion of nomenclatnre in Anglo­Saxon glosses and \'ocabularies, where such different terms as' mim liS',

'comicus',' joculator', ' cantatol", ' poeta " arc impartially translated as 'gligmoll' or ( scop '.2 In all probability the intcrcourse between Englalld and the Contillent in ecclesiastical mattei's was largely respollsible for the early introduction of the jongleurs into England, bnt doubtless this ilwasioll became much more considerable after the Conquest. ",. e hear, for example, of the importation of 'jocnla­tores' by \Villiam Longchamps. That there was a great number of entertainers of various kinds in England by the twelfth century is c\·ident from J aIm of Salisbury's attack 011 'mimi, salii vel saliares, halatrones, aemiliani, gladiatol'es, palaestritac, gignadii, praestigia­tOl:CS, malefici quoque multi, ct tota joculatorlllll scena,' ~

It is possihle) therefore, to tl'ace the origin of the English llOmadic \. buffoons of the ~fiddle Ages to the Roman mimes, but it is a morc difl1cult matter to detcrmine the exact nature of their influence upon the stage fool, since our kllowledge of the nature of their performances is unfortunately extremely vague. In the first place it is necessary to differcntiatc between tile various types or jongleur, as docs Thomas of Cahham ill his attack in his Penitential:" OIH'ionsly allY illfluellce C'xertcd by the jOllgleurs UpOll the clown must lun'c cOllle from those

, ~ee ( :hamhcrs, {rite Mer/inc1'fd Sffl!Je; '"01. i; al so :\Iantzills, llis/ory f!!ThNltril'lll

Art, "01. i, for the Itonm;, butfooriS:--' 2 \Vrig-ht-\\'iileker, Latin fmd An,'1/o-Sfuon lrOC(l'JIllari(',~,

3 pf)~'trrftlirllJ.· , i. R (r. 11M.). • Thomas dierl ill 131 :1.

] 0 TIlE FOOL IN THE ELIZABETIIA~ DHA!\L\

classes which Thomas condemns-' Quidnm transformnnt et trans­figllrnllt corpora sua per turpes saltus et per turpes gestus ... vel induendo horribiles larYas ... Sunt etiam alii qlli nihil operantur, sed sequuntur curias magnatum ('t dicullt opprobria et ignominias de absentilms lit plac('ant aliis.' From other accounts "'e gather t.hat

fl

: jesting formed lIll important part of these entertaillments, aIHI it is ellsy to see that a perfol'mallce includillg dancing, g-estnre, ann masldng, accompallied by jests, Illight easily develop into son)(>thing

I, of the nature of drama. _-J 1'1~;;e is ullfortuh-a~lO certain proof as far as England is COIl­

cerned that the performances of the jongleurs ever took definitely dmmatic form; but there are se\'eral pieces of evidence that this was the case in France,! alld in view of the close intercourse between the two countries, it seems fairly safe to extend the application to England. And the absence of undoubted traces of plays given by jongleurs in England in no way proves that those plays did not exist, for such rude, unliterary pieces, largely improvised, and oft.en, probably, never written down, would only sun'ive by accident. The

.... Roman mimes were essentially players of farces, and it seems ulllikely that their Sllccessors, the jongleurs, dropped this form of entertainment altogether during the Middle Ages, particularly as they took it up again later:..! "Then the regular drama arose and the bettel' class of minstrels decayed, the buffoons preser\"ed themselves by becoming actors too, and these travelling companies of 'players of interludes', as they were now called, survived throughout Tudor times.

It seems likely, though there is not much evidence to prove it, that the important part of comedian in the religious plays given by the amateur performers of the guilds, was sometimes filled by one of these professional jesters. Gringore's fl'iend, Pontalais, a popular strolling actor, was hired in this way to play the fool in the French mysteries; and in the records of Bllngay we find a payment to a ' vice • in 1558 for' pastyme) before and after plays which seem to have been ~Iiracles.2 If sUs)1_wa~ . .the case, _t"Q~_ descendants of the Roman mimes were ou):Jir:~t _~~ag~ .fo_QJ~. Probably, tOo, the strolling buffoons sometimes took part in the performances of the Fool

1 '111ere are references to plays givell by jougleurs, c. g. at Abbe\'ille (sec Lonandre's JIistory of .A Ubcvil!e) , and sC\'eral rudimentary farces sUn'i\'e, c. g. L'BlIfallt et I'At·eugle. The fragmcnt known as the Illterilldiuw de Clc1"ico ct Pilella may possihly have formed part of a farce played by thejouglenrs in England. On French jonglenrs sce Faral, Lcs .Tollg/curs ClI Frallec all .Moycn .Age.

2 Churchwardens' Accounts for Bungay Haly Trinity.

OHIGI~S OF TIlE E~GLISII STAGE FOOL 11

Socit'tie~, of ,,·hich more will be said later. But ill any ca~e the jongl(>m' undoubtedly exercised an illfluence Oil the English clowll, in that hy his performances-his singing, dancing, and tumbling feats accompanied hy crude patter and coarse jokes-he established a.

tradition of comic acting- before the rise of the literary drama. III t his he' was assisted by a closely-connected per80Jla~e-thc

court or domestic fool. Enough has been written 011 this subject to render allY7i~i account sl~perflllolls here, but it may be said by way of reminder that the fool, either natural idiot or profe8sional

jester, was all institution in courts ancl~ great" households long before ..... the n.sG.,.of the written drama., in England. (Some, indeed, ,,"ould trace a connexion between the Teutonic' pyle' and the court fool.) Hence, sillce he continued to flourish in England until Commoll­wealth times, he was a well-known figure in society throughout the whole period of the Elizabethan drama, and it was inevitable that he should playa prominent part in the deyelopment of the Elizabethan stage clown.

One way in which his influence was exerted has already been indicated-the establishment of a tradition of comic acting. As ~Ir. Symollds has said of the court fools, 'The occasional and ~~~ou~jcstill~_oL these--lllt'll passed- by degrees-mtif settlell­types DLpresentatioll .. _ .. 'Yhen formal plays camc.jnto fashio.,!l by the labour of the learned, these professional comedians struck the key-not; ~f clmracter.' !L~vas lIatural that dramatists, especially court dramatists, should in sketching their buffoons draw their in!'piration largely from f~. with ",hom they were so well acquainted. And it was not only in the households of monarchs and nobles that the fools were known. The court fools at least were public per­sona~es. They- accompanied the king- 011 his progresses, and the frequency with which rewards to them are mentioned in town records suggests that they played a somewhat important rUle on these occasiolls. Their jokes arc quoted alld their trid:s described ill COII­

temporary writillgs, ancI their names seem to have been household words.

Moreover, thc court jesters often came into close cOllnexioll with the stage. It is clear frolll extant records rallging from Henry II's reign to Elizabethan times that they frequently took an active part ill court rCWIS-lIltlllllllillgs, masques, and the like. l III the time of thc Tudors tller'c was a distinct dramatic clement III these re,"eh'i('s, and regular plays \\"('re beginning" to form part of thelll, so it is

/

J \.

'IQ TIlE FOOL I~ TIlE ELIZABETH.A:\, D]L\~L\

~ihle that somctimcs the court fool hecame fur the nOllce a stag-c fooC- -l n-'H.ny-ellse, tllis colinexioll with thc !'-tage is significant.

It appears th:it -t1;c cou~t an(rd6111cStic fo~ls began to inflllc1]ce the stage clown in the earliest stage of his existence-that is, while he was rcpresented hy t he Vice. S ome ~ritics- altogether deny the conllexion of the Vice and the domestic fool, or at least date it very late, when the Morality was in process of decay.l This question is part of the larg-er problem of the essential nature of the Vicc, which ,,·ill he discussed 1110r~ flIlly later, hut that part of the problem which relates to the domestic fool must be considered here.

In the earliest extant ~lol'ality, Pride of Life,2 which probably dates from about 1400, the character ~1irth or Solas, in whom we may perhaps see the germ of the later Vice, strongly suggests the court jester, though an lll1usunlly acti"e one. He is the king' s professional merry-maker, as well as his messenger, beloved hy his master for the amllsement which he proyides. The king says of him:

~Iirthe and solas he can make And ren so t.he 1'0;

Lightly lepe oure the lake Quher-so-c\'er he go;

and he remarks himself as he runs off gaily singing:

I am Solas, I must singe " O\'er al quhel' I go.

lt may be objected that such a doubtful character as :Mil'th is no proof, and as so fen' plays of the fifteenth century ha\'e been pre­served, it is difficult to find early corroborative evidence. But a strong piece of such evidence may be found in Skelton's J.lfagn{ficence, dating from the beginning of the next century, fo'r Fancy and Folly, though they both play a prominent part in leading :Magnificence astray, also bear unmistakable resemblances in many respects to the domestic foo1.3 AlJusiQnS.J!:Lya.rious parts of their dress prove fairly clearly that._they -wore the cOllyentionalo garb of -folly, ana~ancy's falcon and Folly's mangy dog would be suitable and natural appur­tenances of domestic fools. There fire some hints, too, that Fancy is a dwarf-allother sllggesti.2.~!~fluence fr~~ntTiera11~d' fool.z-

-and both--he ~lld ' Fq}ry- iudulg.tUti iayourite fool's trl~k~,- such as inconseque;;t answers and nonsense rimes. 1\10reover, the two characters- are differ'entiated;-apparently representing the two types

1 e. g. Cushman, Devil and Vice ill Buglish LiteratUre before Shakespeare.

2 En. "r aterhom:e, NOIl-c''l/rle .Mystery Plays. 3 For a full discussion of Fancy and Folly see Ramsay's edition of ]Ilaguijiccure:

Introduction.

OHIGI:\~ OF TIlE E:\GLISII STAGE FOOL 13

of fool. Fauey, although thl' 11100'ing spit'it ill the iutt'igue, strougly suggests the Ilatural fool, for he is gellerally ackuo\\'le<lged e\'ell by i1illlself to be wcak-witted, Folly descrihes him l'lldl'ly :

Thou art so feehle-falltastycall, Awl so hraYlIsyke therwithall, .\11<1 thy wit wandryngc here alld tlH're, That thou eallllyst 1I0t growl' oute of thy boyes gere :

aud this deseriptioll is justified ft'equently by Fallcy's beha\'iotll', <IS when he makes tactical blullders ill dealing with ~1:tguificellce, 0('

lets Folly cheat him, Folly, 011 tile other i1aud, seems to repres(,llt the professioual jester. His part in the plot IS to~t.~e'p~tlr~pl'ince ·

£Unused. He 181;; shrewder tlmn Fancy, whom he cheats in their chafferillg on'r the dog, and he is quick at repartee. l\IallY epithets suitable to the artificial and lIatural fool respecti,'ely are applied to him and Falley,

The illl1uclIce of the domestic fool appears again ill Heywood's Vices, the first personages so called, ~lel'y Heport; ill particular (ill The Play_of the lVetha, 1534), is a merry-maker pUJ'e and simple, bearing a strong reselllhlallce to the court jestl>r, He euters Jon~'s ~el'\'ice as usher, alld jests with all the suitors who cOllle to tIl(' court. Apparelltly, too, he wears fool's dress, for Jorc objects at first to his C light behaviour and array'.

No other ulldoubted Vices be:lr such defillite resemblauces to tlw domestic fool as do Heywood's, though the pI'eSCllCl' of the jester Hardy-Dardy ill Godl!/ QHee'n Ifestel', written bcfore 1561, is suggesti\'e. But the co Il1 III OIH'r type of Vicc also has tricks

r(,ll\i!D~c~t of tl1e protesslOll.ul. i~ster-iIlCOlI~~H!~}lt allswers, quiO­bling, aBcl_ the like, It rtmy be noted, too, that ill ol'(ier to lead mankind astray, tl\(, Vice frequelltly elltcrs his service, alld becomes, 1I0t his fool, perhaps, but at least his ~Iaster of the Rcvels) amI ill some dcgl'ee his jester,l III view thell of the fact that the earliest Vices so called .al'e stl'ol1g1~i~lIt of thc dOlllcstil: fool, and of the occurrence of such characters as Fancy alld Folly amI Hardy­Dardy) also of thc fact that comic devices used by thcse personagcs cOllstalltly recut' ;11 the roles of other Vices, it sccms saf(' to cOllclude tl1ilt the court or domestic fool was from thc first largely illstrumental ill de~I}o" thc charact~f tliC Vice.

~ -'-,. I II the regular drama, curiously enough, the domestic fool proper is ~_~"_

a comparatively ;;lre figure. Apart from Shakespeare's fools there ,/ arc barely a dozclI examples ill the whole of the Elizahethall drama. 4

I e. g, ~l'l1 sual Appetite ill The FUllr t:11'1t1l'lIh.

1-1· TIlE FOOL IN TIlE ELIZ.:\BETIL-\~ DHAl\L-\

But ill lllall)' cases it is dillicult to distillguish the down-proper frolll the dom(,stic fool; and this likellcss, which rcnders classificatioll

. dillicult, proves that the com'entional stage clown lllust have inherited a good deal from the domestic tool. -' The nature of this inhcritance wiffl~~scrd)('d more TuiiYft~Iatcr chapter. One prominent

........ 0\- I featul'c of it is tl~<;Lqse_J~e!'~Q.I2~collllexion betweell fool amI master, so characteristic of Shakespeare's loolS-.- n - lswh-el:C we see -tliiS' pel'soual attachment, where: as iii thecase of some of Thomas H ey­wood's clowns, we see the senant followillg his master's fortunes throughout the play, often gl'lllnbling at his hardships, real or imagined, offering cynical comments on the Rituation, and jesting

--:} \

in and out of season, but often, too, conveying sOllnd advice in his jests, and sometimes showing true devotion-it is there that we may assume with certainty the indebtedness of the clown in question to the domestic f~._ -. ------ . ...- .-- -.~--.

A nd still more than in the case of the Vice, in the regular drama some of the clown's tricks seem to owe their origin to the professional jes.ter. Doubtless some of these weye haJHled '-down from the Vice, while others were derived directly. The clown's love of quibbling and playing at cross-purposes, a faV'Durite trick of the all-licensed domestic fool; his high opinion of his importance, a natural character-istic of so popular i.L personage as the court fool; his habit of referring to his wisdom in comparison with others' folly; his quaint names, often those of animals or common objects, with which may be com­pare£l' John Goose, my lord of Yorkes fole' 1, all these points, and

\ probahly others, too, <~n(!i£,1.te the influence .o~~ the professional fool. The question of influence in dress will be discussed later .

. One other point which appears suggesti\'e is the fact that the stage fool disappea.red at about the same time that the custom of maintain­ing ~I()~n~~tic a; d court fools fell into decay. This point, however, must not be over-emphasized, since the clown had begun to lose favour on the stage while the fool was still an institution in the court alHLthe mansion,

S,o much then for the professional fools. But these were not the only class to don the mask of folly. There were also the ama~ellI~

....... merry-makers of the Feast of Fools and the Fool Societies which carried on the traditions of the religious festival; and these, too, had their share in the development of the English stage clown. TIesides doubtless helping to suggest and popularize the introduction of the fool on the stage, they left several distinct traces on the rule. The

1 Prit:1J Purse Expenses of EIi.<::aoetlt of l~ork, ed. Nicolas, p. 2.

()lUGI~~ OF TIlE E~GLISIJ STAGE FOOL 1G

lIIost characteristic of these was that left by the' Sl'l"IIlOlIS jo),eux " those l:idiculous lIlt'tllt.'ys of Illock-pions exhortatiolls, leamed allusiolls alld scurrility, full of dog'- Latin and ]"(lligious tags, which, origillating iIi the lIlock sen,icl's of the Feast of Fools, iater played :~ prolllinellt part ill the performances of th~ Fool Societie~"'ho d~lightcd to parody both the religious sCI:mon alld the rhetorical disquisitioll of the schools. 1

Of the formal 'sermon joycux) therc arc hut two exallJples in the English drama-that delin'rell by Folly at the close of thc 'Satire of the Threc Estaits', descI'ibing variolls classes of fools, :tllll the dis­course of Herod's fool ill Archi-Proplietll,2 based nomina]]y on the opening \'erses of Gellesis, hut in reality consisting of a disquisition on folly and satire of society, particularly \romen. It concludcs :

Quid est Patriarchus? Patriarchlls. Et quid ('!St ~Iorio? morio. Ql1i{J foemina? quid? nisi fatua. Et spiritus DOlllini motus per aquas fuit.

But the' sermons joyellx' had a \\,ider illllllcllce than this, as will be shown lat~l'ude and coarse as these effusions often were, they contained the germ which \vas to develop into the delightful lllock­learned disquisitions or soliloquies of the best of the Elizabethan clowns.

Another form of entertainment characteristic of the Fool Societies .... which Sel'lllS to ha\'c illfluenced stage clo\\'nage ill some measure is the

-r;;ttie '. It is useless to look for lUuch influence as regards charactcrizatioll from the fools of these plays, for they are usually only types. As J ulle\'ille says, 'Le sot ... symholise l'holllllle ell general et les grands ell particulier, abandonnes it la bctise et au vice qui sont all fond de nos instincts. POl 11' les representer dans tOllS leurs rules, Ie fOll n'est jamais llli-Illeme; il cst tour a tour roi, papl', etc .... et tOlljours fOll sous ses di\'ers costumes.' Influence UPOll

the dowll is rather to be ~ought ill the gelll'ral characteristics and the underlying idea of the' sottie', an idea parallel to that which illspired the Feast of Fools-the cOllception of the whole world gi\'cn lip to the service of Folly. I n all probability this was largl'ly instrumelltal in lllaking the down a vehicle for satire, f!!..!:..... the' sottie' was in its \'e!L£~sellce a,)?atire of society. A typical example is one which ends with the resol\'e of t Ie 'Vorl(1 to cease to attempt to set himself right, alld to yield 11l11'esel'\'edly to Folly. Political satire is also sometillles t'oulld, as in L' Astrolo!Jue. I II the ~Iiddle Ages liberty of !Speech l'ou]d ollly he enjo)'{'u under the lIIask of folly, hut under that mask it was completc; and the' sottie' introduced this liberty tlpOli the stage. The social satire which is so fret.'ly uttt'rpd hy thc English

1 For examples see Leroux de Liner's eollcclioll. 2 Gri llIalll, A 1'chi-L~l'uJ1het(/, ii, U (15-1i).

1G TIlE }'OOL I~ THE ELIZABETIIAN DUAl\lA

dowlls, such as Pompey's court, camp, city and country' news', or politiclil satire sHch as that of the jigs, is of tell sufficiently reminiscent of the lllalllier of the' sotties' to suggest illflucnce from that source. l

I t has also been pointcd out that the chop-logic of Heywood's intcr­hales, which is the forerunner of the rough wit-combats of the Elizal:~th~~l clOWIIS, may owe sOlllcthing to the dialogue of the , s . ~, , Another point which lllay have some bearing on the clowns' style is thc Ilumber of p)"(werbs and 'dictolls popnlaires' found in these plays-sollletimes in "cry large BUill bcrs, as ill Les lJl ewus Propos.

It will be noticed that the' sotties' mentioned above are all Frcnch. It seems likely that the influence exerted by the Fool Festivals and Fool Societics on the English clown came largely by way of Frallce, for ncither the religions nor the secular revels appear to ha\'e pre-railed at all generally in England. There are a few references to the

Feast of Fools during the thirteenth and fourteellth cellturies, hut apparently the attacks which they represent 2 were soon successful, for after 1391 we hear no more of the Feast, though references to the allied festival of the Boy Bishop continue until the sixteenth century. And of the Fool Societies there is hardly a trace; 3 therefore it seems reasollable to conclude that they can never ha\'e obtain cd any vogue in Ellgland. But in France the Feast was 110t definitely suppressed till the middle of the sixteenth century, and the Fool Societies flourished throughout the whole period of the rise of the Elizabethan drama. In view, then, of the constant intercourse between England

J and France, it seems possible that the influence of the Feast of Fools

1

_ upon the English clown operated largely through the 'societes joyeuses ' of France.

This hypothesis would help to explain the resemblances which exist between the English clown and the fool who appear in several French :Mysteries, dating from the middle of the fifteenth century. In some cases it is impossible to form auy clear idea of these French fools, but ill at least one :Mystery, St. Didier, performed ill 1482, we find a well-developed jester, worthy as regarqs the (luality of his humour to rank with English buffoons of a later date. But though direct interaction between these fools alld the English Vice is possible,

1 For' sotties' see Picot's collection. 2 e.g. Statutes of Arundel for the Government of Beverley Minster, 1391

(Poulson, Reverlac, p. 592). 3 Practically the only trace is a mandate of Bishop Grandisson in 1348 to the

Dean of Exeter and Rector of ~t. Paul's, commanding the prohibition of a certain disreputable society known as the' Order of Brothelyngham '.

OHIGINS OF THE ENGLISH STAGE FOOL 17

it is hardly neccssary to snppose it. ~rost of the com mOil charactcl'­istics are the cOll\'entional qualities of buffoonery ill a}] ages; alld a noticeable point of difference hetween the French fool and the Vice is the abscnce of any attempt to connect the former with the main action of the play, Possibly, thereforc, the rescmblances hctween the El1gEsh amI F,"ench merry-makers were the result of pamllcl de,"elop­meut. All1lost certainly the fool came illto the French mysteries from the Fool Societies, and it is not difficult to imagine how that de\"elopment took place, as it appears that after the secularization of the religious plays, the C societes joyeuses' sometimes joined forces with the gra,'er societies who produced the 'Mysteries to give joint performances. If, then, the French Fool Societies also influenced the English clown, up to a certain point there might well be pat'allel deycloplllent ill the two countries, since the jongleurs and pro­fessional fools, the other early sources of influence, were common to both.

The French' sotties' were paralleled to some extent by the German C Fastnachtspiele', or carnival plays, which often resembled them in subject. No definite proof of the direct influence of these plays can I be traccd, though a. resemblance between them and Heywood's inter­ludes has been noted; but they lllllSt at least be mentioned, in dew of their prohable influence upon the German fool literature, which culminated in Brandt's lVarrenschijf, published at Basel, one of the chief centres of the carnival plays. The influence exerted on the English clown by this book, translated into English hy Barclay ill 1509, and imitated by various writers, cannot be doubted. 1 11\ probably acted chiefly along the same lines as did the C sottie " \ ,J emphasizing the id~a of the reign of folly, and tending to poplllarize\ }-the fool, amI to make him a fav(}Y.~O!· satire. 1'he \ resemblance of the one extant jig, Tarlton's Horse-Load of Fools, to literature of this type is significant. It lllay he noted, too, that the series of vidd portraits which composes the Ship of Fools (almost all embryonic drama, indeed), aided the transition from the abstractions of the ~Ioralities to the concrete figures of the regular drama. One more point may be mentioned-the prevalence 9f proverbial expressions ill the Ship of Fools-but the clowns' provprbs have already heeu noticed in connexion with the' sotties', and must be noticed again in conllexion with the rustic. \

Another type of German literature which certainly left its mark 011 •

the clown was the jest-hook, Seyeral of the collections of a\lecdotes I 1 For German and English fool literature see Herford, Literar!J Rdutiuw,· of

Germa1lY und 1 .. 'ugllllld in tlte Sixteenth Centur!J"

l!

18 TIlE FOOL I~ TIlE ELIZABET II l\N DHA:\J.t\

which gathcrc d roulld tllc Ilames of Rlllem;pi egel, ~Ial'kolf, and othet· famous tt·aditional jesters, sometimes court fools, sometimes persoll­ages of more popular origin, were translated into English during the sixteellth century, and imitated ill such English collections as Skelton's Tales, or Scoggin's Tales, 01', later, and most note"'orthy of all, Tarlton's Jests. From the jest-books, German and English, was undoubtedly deri\'cd much of the' picaresque' element in the fool's role, his roguery, his rude practical jokes, and his coarse jests-the , humour of filth " as it has been called.

But here, as in other respects, foreign influence mnst not be exaggerated. It must never be forgotten that bpsides those influences common to the whole of 'Vestern Enrope, there was also a purely nath'e influence at work in the development of the 'Stage fool. For alongside of the religious plays which represent the earliest stage of the literary drama of England, a popular drama existed, and had existed in some form for centuries, e\'er since the old pagan rites on which it was founded lost their original signification. 1 A' French writer' quoted by 'Varton, states that the object of the institution of the religious plays was to 'supersede the dancillg, music, mimicry, and profane mnmmeries' beloved of the people. And doubtless at an early date buffoonery of some kind fonnd a place in the' mimicry and profane mummeries'. How soon the fool proper appeared we do not I

know, since pre-Tudor references to folk-festivals are few and brief,·­but it is clear that he was an institution by the fifteenth century 2_

that is, in the early days of the ~10rality period-and probably he had existed in some form long before. Hence it seems reasonable to suppose that the fool of the regular Rtage owed something to this ' popular buffoon. That there should be interaction between the I

literary and the popular drama was inevitable. Proof of it is seen at an early date in the Croxton Play of the Sacrament, where the leech (and possibly also his jesting servant, of whom more will be said later) is undoubtedly borrowed from the spring play, in which the doctor is an essential character. Another indication of interaction is the fact that the devil, who appears as it comic character in the religious plays, is also one of the buffoons of the folk-plays, though here it is doubtful on which side the indebtedness lies. ~1r. Ordish has suggested that, the influence of the popular on the literary drama operated largely through the guilds, essentially Saxon institutions, maintaining much

1 On the folk-drama see Chambers, .Mediaeral Stage; Ordish in Folk Lore; Beatty, The St. George or :JfmJl1llers' Play; Sharpe, Su:ord lJallces, &c.

2 An engraving of a morris dance dating from about 14GO shows a fool.

j

OHIGI~S OF THE E~GLI~II STAGE FOOL ID

of the old native tradition en'n whell their allcient sacrificial ritcs ",el'e rl'placed by miracle plays.]

Unfortunately, it is impossihle to determinc cxactly what part the fool of the folk-festi,'als played ill the development of the stage fool. The buffoon of the mummers' plays as they now exist is not of Illuch "'eight as evidence, since there is no meaI1S of dating his development to his present form, :lmi it is clear that literary and sophisticatillg intlllences have been at work. AmI as to the naturc of the character ill the carly days of its existence there is practically no evidcllce. Popular, cidc, and even court re,'els are often so imperfectly dis­tinguished in the scanty records which remain, that to disclltangle the various elemellts is a hopeless task. To complicate the question further) there are suggestions of confusion between the folk-revels and the Feast of Fools. But that there was influence from the folk

fools OJI !!lC st;~c fools scems certain. Perl1aps tlre---most- detlnite I tracc is the tail which sometimes forms pill·t of the latter's dress 2_

constantly worn by the former and undoubtedly a relic of the animals' skins WOI'll by the worshippers who were their protagonists. One of other possible links is the apparent adaptation by the Vice of 111.ankind of a joke found in many versions of the spring play.3 These points are minor ones, but they are significant of an important one-the influence of llati,'e alld l~)l\lar tradition upon the stage fool. Though we ,~ ignorant of" theextent al~d nature of this influence we may be Sllre of olle thing-that it was responsible for the distinctive and e~selltiully nati,'e character of the English clown.

'Ve hm'e now enumerated the various types of fool from which an English dramatist of the beginning of the sixteenth century might draw inspiration. But the most common type of English clowll is not merely fool or jester; he has other qualities which are 1I0t fA prilllarily fool characteristics. V cry early he shows the illfluence of ' the comic servant-all allciellt tradition in the drama. Thc eady A Ellglish religious plays, which have no regular fool, prodde several - \ examples of this character. Some of these figures, such as the Ship-man's hoy in J.lfary llfagdlllene, are little more than suggestiolls of ill-disposed boys, and their parts contain practically Ilothing that can he called humour. There are, howeyer, se,'eral better developed characters, who may be represented by rrrmvle, the shepherd's boy of the Chester Plays, discolltented with his wages alld food, alld ready

1 III Folk Lore, 18!)}.

2 e.~. rices ill ]{illg iJarills awl AIMoll ]{lIig/d, auu 'rill Cricket ill Wily /Jegllilef/,

:I Furlli,'all and Pollard, Macro IJlays, p. 1(j.

II ~

·1

~o TilE FOOL IN THE ELIZA.BETHAN DHAl\IA

to quarrel and fight. Like him, but more vindictive, arc the torturers' attendants of the Townley 1 and Cornish 2 plays, who quarrel with their masters, but not through any sympathy with their victims, towards whom they show (luite as much ill will as the tOl'tUI'Cl·S themselves.

~Iore closely connected with the clown, apparently, are servants of another class-thosc who instead of merely wrangling and fighting openly with their masters, ridicule them in nsides to the audience, and i.!.!..sl~lt them more or less jngelliously.- Such a one is Pike-harness,

I Cain's boy,3 who while Cain is crying their peace through the land after murdering Abel, mocks him in audible riming asides:

Cain: I command YOll in the kyngis nayme, Garcio: And in my masteres, fals Cayme, C: That no man at theme fynd fawt ne blame. G: Yey, cold rost is at my masteres hame.

A better developed character is Colle, the leech's man, already mentioned. He enters seekiilg his master, and makes a proclamation giving a rude description of him, but when he appears Colle greets him effusively and assures him that:

Nothyng, Master, but to your reverense, I have told all this audiense-

And some lyes among!

When ordered to proclaim his master's skill he does so in ambiguons but decidedly suggestive terms:

What dysease or sykl1esse that ever ye have, He will never leve yow tyll ye be in your grave.4

Too much stress must not be laid on the comic devices of these servants, since it is impossible to date them with certainty, and possibly other of their roles besides that of Brewbarret in the York Plays may be later interpolations, influenced by the buffoons of the rtoralities. The important point proved by the servants of the re­ligious plays is the early establishment of the tradition of the Eomic servant, acting as comic chor~s to his master's speeches or

; las a parody of his actions. We may safely conclude that this J tradition was established by the middle of the fifteenth century, and

1 Buffeting Play. 2 Beunans Meriasek, translated by Stokes, pp. 207, 217. 8 Townley plays, .Mactacio Abel. 4 Play oj' the Sacrament, ed. \Vaterhollse, Non-Cycle Mystery Plays, pp. 73

and 74.

OnIGI~S OF THE E~GLISII STAGE FOOL Ql

therefOl'e at l('ast a century before the appearance of . the regular Elizabethan elown.

And about the time of his appearance, this impulse seems to ha\'e g-ained strength from a second source-the Zanni or cOIllic servant of the Italian' eom,nlCdia dell' arte'. It is certain that the Italian drama was well -known in England in Elizabethan times, for not only do Illany tl'ans]ations and adaptations of the more literary type of play ('xist, but also there arc numerous references to the various ' masks' of the' commedia' in the works of Shakespeare and his contemporaries I -references which sometimes suggest connexion between the Zanni I 7 and the English clown. l~rio, in 1598, explains' Zane' as a llame \ for 'a simple vice, clowne, foole, or simple fel10w in a play or comedic'; and N'ash calls Kcmp it harlequin and remarks that his fame has extended to Italy.

I As 1'1iss Smith points out in her study of the' commedia dell' arte' ,1

the relation between the Ita]ian and English stages is probably I ('xp!icahlc mainly through direct contact hetween the actors. English ~ Italian companies frequently paid simultaneous visits to Con-

tinental cities, and as early as 1573 Italian actors began to visit England itse!f.2 In 1577 'one Dronsiano, an Italian' recei\'ed per­lllission to produce plays in London-a fact of considerable signifi­cance, for this Dronsiano was undoubtedly Drusiano 1iartinelli, a famous performer of the role of Arlecchino, one of the varieties of Zanni most akin to and most likely to have influenced the English C]O\'·I.!-.____ ____

The qualities of the Zanni may be summarized in 'Miss Smith's words: 'A]ways of humble station, usually the servant and confidant of a principal character', sometimes a rascal, sometimes a dunce, oftenest a complex mixture of the two, almost always t.he chief plot­weaver, his main function was to rouse laughter, to entertain at all costs. One of the means he took to this end was the llse of sume patois; ... another was his curiolls costume and Illask; the most effective of all were his actions, his surprisingly dexterolls gymnastic feats, his multifarious disgulscs, and his absurd songs and lazzi.'

It is cvident from this description that there nrc se\'Cral points of contact between the Zanni and the clown, but to determine what the latter owes to the fonner is not an easy matter. Of the' lazzi' them­selves 1I0t much can be made. As Perucci's list shows, Illany of

1 ~cc '\' , Smith, C()mmedin dell' Artc, for thc general qucstioll of It.-dian influencc on thc English stagc,

2 Re\'('l s :t(,(,Ollllts for 1.'i73 mcntion performalH'cs hy 'th(' Italian plaYNs ' at '\' inrlsor and Hcallingo Sec FCllillerat, /)()(o1lmrtlls, p. ~:!5, &I ~ .

22 THE FOOL IN THE ELIZABETI-IA~ DRA:\L\

thelll arc simply the old tricks of the mountehanks from whom the Zanni was largely deri\'ed, and the majority arc items of ancient popular horseplay by no means peculiar to Italy and found in England before there was any possibility of Italian influence. Such are the lazzi ' of fear', ' of weeping and laughing', or ' of crying loudly'. It

I is possible that some of the more intellectual tricks-lawyers' quibbles, learned meditations such as Pedrolino's,l laments and loye-rhapsodies parodying those of the Zanni's master, and the like-may haye suggested some of the speeches of the English clowns; but nothing

I can be definitely proved, and the resemblances which exist may be merely the result of parallel development.

\'

The same may be said to some extent of impl'Oyisation, for this again is characteristic of all popular buffoonery, and is found in England at an early date. But possibly there ,vas here at least strengthening influence from the' com media dell' arte', since in them not only the incidental jesting but the whole of the dialogue was im Jroyised.

It was as a servant and an intriguer that the Zanni probably exerted his strongest influence on the English clown. Since the Italian masks were beginning to be known in England in the early days of the regular drama, when the clown's position in the play was still undecided, it is likely that the example of the Zanni helped to make him with increasing frequency a jesting sel'Yant. l\IOloeover, since the intriguing function of the Zanni became more important as the C com media dell' arte' developed, the influence which he exerted tended more and more to turn the clown into an intriguer. It seems reasonable to snppose that the Zanni was largely responsible for the scheming, mocking type of servant-clown (represented by Nimble in Thomas of TVoodstock, 1591) described in a later chapter. Clowns of this class, as will be shown, tend to lose their fool qualities, and in the later days of the Elizabethan drama we find an increasing number of characters, of the type of Dromio and his fellows in A/other Bombie, who are no longer clowns but intriguing servants. Possibly these characters helped to undermine the popularity of the regular clown-certainly it was they who replaced him in the work of the later dramatists.

One more influence which seems to have played its part in the deyelopment of the stage clown must be mentioned-that of the stupid rnstic. This is suggested ill the first place by the fact that th~ term -, clown', which originally denoted a rnstic, became the most common

J flcala, Faith/Ill Pi/grim Lrll'er.

OHIGI~S OF THE E~GLISII ST.AGE FOOL

name for the stage merry-maker. l Another indication is seen in the fad that stage fools other than domestic or court fools f["('(luently, as will be shown later, wore the ordinary dress of a countryman.

Xo influence of the rustic upon the stage buffoon can be traced with certainty till the end of the ~I orality period; until thell the rllstic is a quite distinct figure. He appears first in the religious plays) but there is little or no attempt to make comic capital of his characteristics. The first example of a rustic whose stupidity is emphasized is Ignorance, Idleness' boy, ill Redford's play of TVit and Science, dating from the middle of the sixteenth century-an ill. disposed, apparently half-witted peasant, who speaks an almost llllintelligible dialect, and whom Idleness tries ill ,'ain to instruct. By the end of the :\Iorality period the rustic had developed into a concrete flgure. Usually, as ill the case of Rusticus and Hodge of Horestes, these chal'llcters are simple, honcst peasants, the butts of the Vices, who delight ill teasing and frightellillg theIll and setting them at loggerheads by playing npoll theil' simplicity.

The first and only Viee to show rustic characteristics is the last ~Iorality Yice so called-Idleness ill TVit and TVisdom, writtell about 1579. He is a thorough rustic, bearing, as Gayley has pointed ont, a distinct resemblallce to DiccOll of Gammer Gurton's lVeedle. He is far less astute than his predecessors, alld in his varied :t(h'entures is as often the duped as the duper. Snatch, Catch, amI Search treat

/

him much as earlier Vices treated their rustic victims. -----' I n the regular drama the influence of the rnstic was largely

rcspollsible for the de,'elopmcnt of two types of clowll-the mere booby, such as J olm AdroYlles in Pro7llos and Cassandra, alld the more pretelltious clown of the Bottom class, who is not without a certain shrewdness, but so oyerrates his qualities as to make his deficiencies the more ludicrous. 'rhe dcveloplllent of both these classes will be traced later. T~e rustic also scems to have influenced the stage f2..01 ill general

by prov~nilg hlllts-fo"t-sqllle of -liis tavQuritc tricks. :\Iisullderstalld­ings, real or pretended, figure prominently among these dc,rices. :May not they ha,'e been suggested by the innocent blunders of the simple

I The earliest example of the use of' down' in the ~t.'lg-e SPllSe in contemporary litl'ratnre appears in Itowlan<ls' Let IIllmolll's Wood, !:'aL h', G3 (1GOO) :

'VlI:lt mealls ~illgpr tllplI? Alld I'ope the elowlle, to ~peak so Boorish, whell TIley ("ounll'rf .. ite tIle Clowllcs IlpOIl the ~tag-(~,

T1H~ earli('~t ('ertaill example of' its lIse in this ~ell~e ill a play O('Cllrs ill The Flllll()I1,~ "il'/ol'icl'l of lIelll'!} I" (before 15BB),

~ -~ TIlE I,'OOL IN THE ELIZABETHAN DRAl\IA

(

countrymcn of the earlier plays? The perversion of words, accidental or intentional, seems to have becn derived froll) the same source. The char:lcter People innocently calls Respuhlica 'Rice Pudding-cake', and later clowns find the intentional distortion of a llallle an excellent way to annoy or amuse. Probably, too, the frequent use of proverbial expressions by the clown was encouraged by the example of the rustic type; but it must be remembered that early Vices who show no other trace of rustic influence use expressions of this kind, and the example of the 'sotties' and fool literature, already mentioned, cannot be left out of account.

The rustic is the last source of influence to be mentioned in dealing with the origins of the English stage fool. How the dramatists developed and combined the hints which they obtained from these various sources, it is the object of the ensuing chapters to show.

CHAPTER II

THE EVOLUTION OF THE FOOL AS A DRA~fATIC CHARACTER

SIXCE the popularity of the stage fool was so grcat, a dramatist who wished to producc a popular play was confrontcd with thc Jleccssity of introducing him on c"ery possible occasion. (I would ha,'e thc fool in c\'cry act',I was thc cry of thc peoplc; and how best to satisfy that crr was the problem which thc playwrights had to solvc. Some, particularly the early anonymous writers of regular drama, seem to hm'e troubled themselves very littlc 011 this point. The clown wandcrs through thcir plays at his own swcct will, appearing almost whenever he desircs or whcnevcr thcre is a pause in thc action to be fillcd, oftcn without the least pretcxt, and some­times spoiling serious or e,'cn tragic sccncs with his untimcly jcsting. Since so much of this incidental jesting' was improvised, only occasional traces of it have sun'ived.2 The printer of Tamburlaine exprcssly statcs that he has omittcd 'somc fond and frh'olous gcstures', of no value to thc play. But contcmporal'J-I'cfercnccs ~how h~er~li.!Labl.lSe-OLthc clown's. part became. Bcsides Shakespeare's famous attack, thl2r~. is an il!tcr~sting-piec~oLsatirc....Df an earlier date on the haphazard introduction ot fools. In The Pilgrimage to Parnassu8 (c. 1598-9) occurs a sccne 3 which opens with the dragging in of a clown by mcans of a ropc. The clown asks what he is to do, to which query Dromo replics, "Vhy, what an ass art thou! dost thou not knowe a play cannot bc without a clowne? Clowncs havc bccn thrust illto plays by head and shouldcrs c,'cr sincc Kcmpe could makc a scurvy face; and there­forc rcason thou shouldst be drawne in with a cart ropc.' Hc thcn makcs a few suggestions, satirizing thc public taste in buffooncry, and departs, while t.he clown rcmarks, 'This is finc, y' faith! nowc, whcn they havc llocbodie to lcavc on the stagc, thcy bringe mee up, and, which is worsc, tcll mee not what I shouldc sayc!' After he

1 Golfe, The Cflreles8 .s'hepherdes8, Proeludium. 2 e. g. stage direction ill if you know not me you know lIolJody - ' Enter the

clown beating a solrlier, and exit: 3 Ed. l\1acray, pp. 22-7.

Q6 TIlE l;'OOL IN TIlE ELIZABETHAN ])RA~[A

has gone through a few of the clown's usual tricks, Dromo re-enters and dri,'es him off, since there are now' other men that will supplie the roollle '. The evidence of these two pieces of criticism is sup­ported by numerous other references.

In all probability the · dramatists were less responsible for this abuse than the producers of the plays, who were too willing to pander to the public tastes, or the clowns thelllseh'es, who were too desirolls of constant applause. But on the other hand, the dramatists seelll, in many cases, to have submitted vcry readily to this state of affairs and to have taken little trouble with their fools' parts. In Brome's Antipodes, Letoy replies to a defence of extem porizing on the grounds that it was formerly allowed on the stage:

Yes, in the dayes of Tarlton and of Kempe, Before the stage was (>llrg'd from barbarism, And brought to the perfection it now shines with. Then fools and jesters spent their wits, because The Poets were wise enough to save their owne For profitabler llses.

It was less likely that a clown would indulge in untimely jesting in a play in which his part was carefully thought out and connected to some extent with the main action, than where he was an independent character, extrane~.!.ls to the action, and free to make most of his part for himself. \ As higher dramatic ideals began to prevail, the dramatists seem to have realized that the only way to prevent the clown from spoiling their plays was to develop his part more fully themselves, and to connect it as closely as possible with the main action. They began also to see the dramatic possibilities of the character-to realize that it might be made a real asset in their plays. ~

To take first the development of the merry-maker's role in regard to importance in the intrigue. This question had found a satisfactory solution in the case of the earliest variety of English stage buffoon­the Vice of the Moralities and other transitional plays. Concerning the origin and nature of this Vice mnch controversy has raged. Some critics, particularly Cushman, l deny that this character was originally a buffoon. They consider that he was in the first place an ethical abstraction representing the 'summation' of the Seven Deadly Sins, and acting as the enemy of the good and the tempter of man, and that he only degenerated into a fun-maker in the later Moralities. The name 'Vice' would seem to support this view, for the obvious derivation is doubtless the correct one. But the fact cannot be ignored that in the earliest instances of the occurrellce of

1 The Devil and nrc 111 EIIglish Literature hifore Shakespeare.

ErOLUTIO~ AS A DRAl\L\TIC CITA1L\CTEH CJ.7

the term thc characters so called arc k~lmr_c autLsimplc,-aud thc plri)'sin ",IHcll tller occllr-IIe~",ood's Play of Love (1533) and Play of the lI:rether (1534-)-are not ~Ioralities. Cushman would have us belic\'c that the name Vice is a later interpolation here, since it only occurs once in each case, but the same might be said of other instances where he docs not doubt its authenticity. ~Ioreover,

apart from this early extension of the term to inclnde merry-makers ill an interlude, the fact that ill the earliest contemporary references to Vices and stage fools the terms seem to be used almost synony­mously suggests that the Vice w~ a buffoon a~_a~ .~ly stage in his dc"elopll~

The best explanation of the difficulty seems to be that offered by Ramsay,l who suggests that (Vice' was the actors' name for the \ strong.esLrill.c....frOlll-thciL...St.andpoint-.illl_tiw side of evil. It became • desirable for dramatic purposes to concentrate the interest in one charactcr, not necessarily the most evilly-disposcd, but the most often on the stage. In the carliest :Moralities this character had the function of messenger or factotum, but as time went on, to strengthen

_ the role, more and more of the intrigue was givcn into his hands. To thi~ character_ 'Bl~atur~ly -B'!'y~l the important functioll of

_p_r<2.~~!E..g comi~ relief, since if the attention of the public was to be held throughout a ~lorality, it was imperative that such relief should be introduced as frequently as possible. It was uatural, too, that this function should be entrusted to a charactcr on the side of evil, since the evil and the comic had long been associated in the vulgar mind, the devil being the chief comedian of thc Mysterics. Hence camc the double fUllction of the Vicc-the conducting of the intriguc and the providing of amusement.

"-Ramsay founds this hypothesis largcly on the naturc of Skelton's Vice figures, Fancy and Folly, pointing ont thc significant rcscm­blancc bctwcell ' thcm and Heywood's Viccs. , 'rhc 'question of the indebtedness of these and other carly Vicc fignres to the court fool has already been discussed, and its importance for the problem of the relation of Vice and elown is obvious. Another personage who secms to mark a stagc ill thc dc"elopment of the Vice is Dctractio ill the oldest complctc ~Iorality extant, The Castle of Pel'severallce.? Dctractio, or Backbitcr, is it mcssengel' in the service of the " . orId, and somc tracc of the function of the later Vice is sccn in thc fact that hc is sellt by the 'Yorld to introducc l\lankind to Cm'ctousncss; hut 0/1 thc othcr hand hc is undoubtcdlya comic character, equally

I Edition of Skeltoll'!; Mrt!J1I.'I/!Jrcllrc, Intro(llletiOIl, 2 FllrJJivall anrl Pollanl, .1lac}"f) Ploys, Pl'. 07-100 a1111 I :!B-3~.

Q8 TIlE FOOL I~ TIlE ELIZABETHAN DRAMA

ready to get good or evil into trouble if by so doing- he can obtain amusement himself. l\Iirth in TIle Pride of L{fe is too douhtful a character to furnish any trustw'o1'thy evidence, though it is not difficult to imagine that he represents an earlier stage in the develop­ment of the type to which Backbiter belongs.

The first clear example of what cventually became the most popular type of Vice in the l\ioralities is Sensuality in l\ledwall's J.Vature, written between 1486 and 1500. There are indications of the lines on which the role was to develop in Mankind, but there the attack of the Vices on Mankind fails, and hi~ downfall is e\'entuaily brought about by the demon Tutivillus. But in Nature Sensuality is the chief agent in leading Man astray. He takes him to a tavern and introduces him to other disreputable associates, and later, when Man has temporarily repented, wins him back to evil ways, and is only finally defeated by the arrh'al of Age.

In quite two-thirds of the remaining Moralities proper the Vice role is developed along these Jines, and where this is the case the problem of introducing the buffoon with frequency finds its best solution, since the leader of the attack on man is of necessity con­tinually upon the stage. A good example of the full development of the double functions of the Vice is Infidelity in "Tager's Repentance of Mary Magdalene (1566-7), who plays a very prominent part in the action, in that he 110t only leads :Mary astray, but also labours to harden the hearts of the leaders of the Jews against Christ, and at the same time provides constant amusement for the audiencc. Very similar to this type are the Vices of some of the chief political l\ioralities, notably Respublica (1553), and the Satire of the Th1'ee Estates (c. 1540). In connexion with these plays may be noticed the multiplication of the Vice role by three or four-a fairly frequent device in the middle period of the Moralities, but generally abandoned later in favour of concentration of the comic element in one character, the Vice.

No other variety of Vice attains it popularity in any degree com­parable with that of the type described above, and where he plays ' other roles he is rarely so successful from a dramatic point of view. Perhaps the most notable exceptions to this rule are those Vices who appear as the centre of a series of incidents, inculcating the qualities which they represent into various sets of people in turn. A prominent member of this class is Nichol Newfangle (1568), who continually joins 'like to like' in the play of that name. Very inferior in dramatic effect are those Vices who are only introduced in a sub-plot which seems to have little or no connexion with th('

EVOLUTIO~ AS A DIL\:\lATIC CIIAIL\CTEH Q9

mall) plot, as is the case ill ](ing Darius (1565). But by far tlte lal'gest class of Vices is that represented by Infidelity, alld this fact is 110t only illlportant as regards the Vice himself but also significant in regard to his connexion with the later clown. For in many cases this type of Vice, in order to accomplish ~lan's downfall, temporarily enters his service, and becomes his assistant in the gratification of his desires, and also (as has already been mentioned ill cOllnexion with the influencc of the domestic fool) to some extent his jester. Since then the most popular type of Vice and the most sllccessful dramatically has these servant qualities, and since Vices of ~ another type, sllch as Sin in All f01" Aloney (1577), appear as ushers or factotums, it seems likely that the Vice played his part in making the cOIlYentional clown of the regular drama a servant.

Still more suggestive of this connexion between Vice and clown are thc Vices of a gl'OUp of plays which are not ~loralities, but tragedies or romances. In each of the tl'agedies-Horestes (1567), Cambyses (1569-70), and Appius and Virginia (1575)-the Vice is apparently in service, and acts as a moving spirit throughout the play, urging his master and others to follow the particular vice which he embodies. Revenge ill particular is definitely a servant, and comes in at the end, when Horestes has dismissed him, seeking a new master, much as some later clowns do. Again, like many clowns, these three Vices haye another dramatic function in that as well as playiug all active part in the main plot they act as the centre of minor comic incidents. There are traces of these sub-plots ill the later ~loralities, the climax ill this respect being reached ill IVit and lVisdom (1579), where Idleness, besides leading 'Vit astray, is the ceIltre of a series of amusing adventures, dovetailed with some skill into thc main action. The connexion between the Vicc and the comic sen'ant or clown is seen most clearly in the last play of the group, the romance Sir Clyomon and Sir Clamydes (1599); 'Vith Subtle-Shift, the Vice of this play and the last character bearing the name, Illay ue classed Conditions, a very similar character in Common Conditions (1576), who, like Subtle-Shift, is the only personage in the play who bears an a.bstract name. Apart from their names these characters have lost all ethical significance; they are mere sclf­secking servants, intriguing for or against their masters as seems profitable to them for thc time bcing. Hence they form a con­necting link between the abstract Vice, intriguing against the good, and the concrete intriguing servant of the later drama. "r e have seell, thcn, that in the case of the ~loralities the proulem \ of frequent comic relief was soh-ed by concentrating the humour of ~

30 TIlE FOOL IN TIlE ELIZABETHAN DRAMA

.\ the play ill a persol\age who was at the same time the leatler of the illtrigue against the good. But in the regular drama the buffoon had no sHch raison d' etre, alHl the problem had to be soIYed afresh. Hencc cnsned in the early days of the regular drama the chaotic state of affairs d('scribcd at the beginning of this chapter. As has been mentiolled, some of the dramatists seem to have been too well content to lea,-e the introduction of the clown to a considerable extent to the discretion, or lack of discretion, of the actors thcm-

I

selves, but as time went on the playwrights seem to have de yo ted , more and more attention to conl1ecting their clowns with the action I of the play, and to giving them a definite part therein. III this I respect, as in so many others, it is difficult to trace a chronological

deyelopment, since the whole Elizabethan drama was compressed into such a short space of time that plays representing very different stages appeared almost simultaneously. But in spite of exceptions and anomalies, a general development on the lines to be indicated below may be traced.

In the first place, it may be said generally that as the drama developed the dramatists showed an increasing tendency to give the

t ~lmyn ._[Lplacejn the ..Pl<!yb)'-.making him a ser_\1mt-preferably the

~\

o servant of one of the principal characters. How the tradition of the comic servant grew up in the days of the religious plays has already been shown, and it has been suggested that in all probability the success of that type of Vice possessing some servant qlla!ities, and later the influence of the Italian Zanni) besides the constant influence of the domestic fool, strengthened that tradition and facilitated its application to the clown in general. Of all the characters specifically , ca rf<l clowns (excluding Shakespeare's, who are practically all retainers) quite half are definitely sen'ants of some description, and in addition there are about as many more servants who are clearly clowns, though the lIame does not exist in the written versions of the plays. Such are Miles in Friar Bacon and Fl'iar BU17gay, and Pipkin in How to choose a Good TVtfe from a Bad. It is significant that as the drama dey~lops the E.r~Po_~·tion ~~~~Q.wllS_to others ' becomes greater; it seems as if the dramatists came consciously or unconsciously to the conclusion that the clown could be most satis­

,'- factorily connected with the action as a servant. The advantage of the servant-clmvn is obvious-he may follow his master whet'ever he

~ goes, whereas as an unattached character (a bandit, for example, as in Heywood's Four Prentices of London) the clown is, or should be, limited to certain scenes, and is much less easily involved in the intrigue. It may be said at once that the servant-fool is seldom morc

\.­\

EYOLUTIO~ AS .A DH.A:\I.ATIC elL\ lL\CTEH 31

essential to the action than are the others. I n this resped Shak('s­peare's clowns :\rl' exceptions. .l'\owhere else in the Elizabethan drama do we find a fool with an importance in the action to be com­pared for one moment with that of Fcste or the Fool in Lew.. As

- - ~----- --a rule, \d!kl!.~!tw~e~t becomes_ deeply involved in thC---~ ~gueL.!lC loses the~r,~cfer of clown and b~comes a Im~. ITut I I

it is ol)\'ions that the sernlllt-clown has ipso facto a certain place ill the intrigue. He is constantly on the stage, and to his part fall naturally such duties as the cOlH'eying of letters and messages, the deli,-ery of which is often of considerable importance. And if he does not actually participate in the action independently, he at least as a sen-ant knows all his master's bnsiness, and hence is invaluable as ' ;- meaJ~~L~;ing~sary inforn~ltioll to the au~iiel~se-an4 \ l . inlpo-rtallt }unctiOi'l whiell w~s jonnerly part of the Vice's role. ~IoreO\-er~.llis position fits him particularly well for linking a comic J~ sub-plot to the main actiol~a llseful office which cannot so easily \1., be performed by an unattached clown.

The superiority of the servant-clowns to the others from a dramatic point of yiew may be seen to some extent at the outset if the earliest of the former class, Trotter, the miller's man in Fail' Em (c. 1587), be compared with almost any of the second class for the next Se\-ell yeat's (omitting Simplicity, who plays a vital part in The Three Ladies of London and its sequel, since though he is a clown the plays arc ~Ioralities). In Sir Thomas .Ll1ore (c. 1500), for exam pIc, the clown has the most unsuitable role of rebel, and thus has 110 place in a large portion of the play. He would obviously

ha,-c had more opportunities for merry-making if he had appeared as :More's servant. Trotter, 011 thc other hand, as scrvant to thc heroine of thc play and hcr father, has a far more suitable and advantageous position. He is, moreover, despcrately in love with his young mistrcss, and by appealing to his affectioll she prevails 011 him to help her in hcr attempt to get rid of her undesil'ed sllitors by pretending to bc deaf and dumh. Thus if he is not cxactlyessential to the plot he has at least a suitable position to fill, and a duty to perform.

As was only natural, the non-sel'\'ant clown shared to some cxtellt in the general illlprm-cment ill the dramatic status of the clown which accompanied the gradual establishment of higher artistic standards. Before the last few years of the sixteenth centurv this class do not show much dc\-elopn;ent dramatically, but Strulllb~ of Locrine (1504) marks a distinct a<h-ancc, not ollly 011 the clowll who appears ill om' sccne of Dr. Fa usll.,ts amI who represents the carliest and crlldest

32 TIlE FOOL IN TIlE ELIZABETHAN DHAl\IA

st.age, hut also 011 the rather better de\'e1oped class represented by the rebel clowns of Sir Thomas jl,lore and Jack Straw. :Much of the superiority of Strllmbo is due to more careful and skilful characteriza­tion, but here, as is usually the case, de,'elopment in characterizatioll goes hand-in-hand with dramatic development, for besides acting as the centre of a comic suh-plot, being pressed into the army of Albanact., he has his part in the series of battles of which the main plot

.\ j principally consists. -W , In the last years of the sixteenth century and the first few years of

[iithe n.:::t ~L marked improvement in the treatment of the clOwI~ .. begall to ap~~rz due, doubtless, to some extent to the in~~ of Greene and Shakesp~.ar~. The effect of this influence is seen most clearly in the sen'ant-clowns, but traces of its operation are not wanting in~ characters of another type. III 1595, the very year after the appearance of Locrine, we find one of the best (dramatically) developed clowns of the non-servant class in the whole Elizabethan drama-Tumop, the leader of the rnstics in l\funday's play, John a Kent and John a Cumber. He has a suitable place in the drama, in so much as he and his companions prepare an address of welcome for some of the principal characters, and also he and his friends, in helping to bring about the discomfiture of John a Cumber, play no insignificant part in the main action. As will be shown later in dealing with the subject of characterization, Tumop probably owes a good deal to Bottom (though this point is not absolutely certain, owing to the doubt which exists as to the date of A jl,fidsummer Night's DJ'eam/) in which case the character is a clear proof of the early working of Shakespeare's influence on the clowns of his contemporaries.

rom about this time the proportion of non-servant to servant­clowns becomes considerably smaller, and the few of the first type who still exist are usually connected with some care with the main action. Thus Will Cricket in lVily Beguiled (1606), besides acting as the centre of a series of comic scenes with which some of the principal characters are likewise connected, also has a part in the main action, as conveyor oi i~~f~on. A clown who is connected in . a different but not inartistic way with the main action is Gnotho of The Old Law (c. 1599), who is the leading figure in a comic sub-plot

1 The first transcript of John a Kent is dated Dec. 1595, whereas the evidence points to the beginning of that year or the end of 1594 as the date of the com­position of the Dream. But it is just possible that John a Kent is identical with Tlte Wise-man of West Chester, performed Dec. 2, 1594.

ErOLUTIO~ AS A DIL\MATIC CIIAHACTEH. :33

which is a parody of the main plot and turn~ upon the same motif­thc" lllaking of the new law and its consequences.

// But if there is a general de\'elopment in the dramatic treatment of the clown, this de\'elopment is particularly marked in the case of that

.... _type of fool which became most popular-the servant-clown. Since clowns of this type are so 111llllerous, allY det;;1led accollnt of them is out of the question: all that can he done is to illdicate a few characters representing progressi,-e stages. Trotter, the earliest example of the type (apart from court and domestic fools proper) who may be left out of the question for the time being, since their roles "ary little, and show little chronological de\'elopment) has already been described. His superiority to contemporary non-sernll1t clowlls is manifest, but it is also obdous that his creator has by 110 means fully grasped the possibilities of the clown as a dmmatic character.

In this respect, as in others, Greene's clowns represent the high­water mark before Shakespeare. nliles in Friar Bacon and Friw' Bungay 1589=90), and Slipper in .James IV (1598), both ha\'e their parts in the action-~liles in wasting his master's seven years'labour by failing to wake him as soon as the brazen head speaks, and Slipper in stealing from his master Ateukin the letters which Bartram needs. But apart from these definite duties, both these clowns, particularly Slipper, are ~o cleverly and judiciously introduced into the action throughout, that it is difficult to imagille the plays without them. Slipper at least may be regarded as an integral part of tlte play in "'hich be figures. lIe cannot, however, be regarded as representative of the servant-clown in general towards the end of the sixteenth century. During the ten years which elapsed between the appearallees of Greene's two clowns, contemporary dramatists apart from Shake­speare produced no clownish servant worthy e,-en to compare with ~I iles, though there are traces of a grad lIal general improvemell t. Perhaps the most notable figures of this period are Nimble, 'rrissilliall's intriguing sen'ant in 1'IWUUlS of Troodstock (1591); Pistoll of Soliman and Perseda (1592), who acts as cO!l\'eym of information between the chief characters) alld also takes part ill a comic underplot with a braggart knight of whom lie always gets the better; and Gunophilus, Pandora's unfortunate attendallt ill The lVollwn ill the J.lloolle (1597), who is really esselltial to the action in that he is the victim of all the caprices of his mistress) and the instrumellt used by her in the carrying out of her intrigues. -

But by the elld of .,.this period Shakespeare's fools were beginning t9 appear. Bottom, Laullce, and Launcelot. had }ll"t'ceded Slipper,

-and 'l~chstone and Feste followed two or three years later. Aud ('

j4t 'filE FOOL I~ 'fHE EL'[ZAllE'fHAN DRAMA

from this time becomes noticeable that marked impro\'emellt ill dramatic treatmellt lloticed in COllllcxion with non-servant clowns, with this differcnce, that in the case of the servant-fools it is far more XQnollllced. How marked was the ad",Ulce is proved by the fact

thattl describing the rule of an average clown of the beginning of the seventeenth century more of the story of the play is involved than in the case of the average clown of some six or eight years before. Shadow, ill Old Fortunatus (1600), lllay be compared in this way with Adam ill A Looki'l/I-Glassfor London and England (1594). :Moreover, though clOWIIS who play a prominent part in the intrigue itself are still exceptiollal, they appear with increasing frequency. Such are Hodge in Thomas Lord Cromwell (1602), who rescues the Earl of Bedford by impersonatillg him, and Stilt in Hoffmann (probably acted the same year), who tries throughout the play to guide his foolish master aright by good advice, and even raises a rebellion in support of his cause . . / From this point it is almost impossible to trace chronological Idevelopment further. Henceforth clowns vary ill accordance with the degree of skill possessed by their creators, rather than in

I accordance with any general tendencies. As might be expected, even at this period of the stage fool's fullest development there are lapses. Frog, for example, in The Fair },1aid of Bristow (1604), only appears two or three times in the written version of the play, and has no weight whatever in the action; and in Heywood's chrollicle play If you know 1/ot me you know nobody (1605-6), the clown, though presumably one of Elizabeth's train, wanders through the play almost at haphazard. But apparently the difficulty of ' successfully introducing a clown into a chronicle play was largely ., responsible for the faults of If you know not me, and that of introduc­ing such a typically British character into classicHI stories for the weakness of such plays as The Golden Age, for Heywood's best clowns are some of the most noteworthy of their kind, and represent the fullest development of the clown along regular lines. They will be described in more detail in connexion with the question of characterization, but the role of one of them, Simkin in Fortune by Land and Sea (perhaps written about 1607-9), may be sketched here, I in order to give some idea of the average importance in the

1 Cf. with Simkin, Roger in The English Traveller, Clem in The Fair .Maid of the West, and Fiddle in The Fair Maid of the E.rchange, among Heywood's clowns-also many others, e. g. Shorthose in Fletcher's Wit without Money, or Pipkin in How to choose a Good Wifejrom a Bad.

Ero LP'l'IO~ A~ .A DIL\~L\TIC CI L\HACTEH ~5

action of the best clowlls oE Shakespeare's eontelllporaries and SIH.:l'e5\5\ors.

Silllkill is the sen'ant of old Harding, father of Philip, the hero of the play. 011 his first appeurallce he informs his master, who has sent him to seek Philip, that the latter is abollt to make a match "'ith SusaJl Forrest. At that moment the lo\'ers appear, and a dispute with the father Pllsues. Simkin declares that he intends to 'stick to the stl'OlIger side', but he joins ill ~Irs. Harding's pleading for Philip. "Theil Philip alld Susan are made his fcllow-serntllts, he is gClluillely distressed, alld promises to do extra work to spare them. 011 his Ilext importallt appearance, he accosts Philip's friends Foster and Goodwin, from whom Philip wishes to borrow money, and by shrewd hints that his youllg master has a secret store induces them to promise assistance, but Philip spoils the scheme hy a\'owing his pO\'erty. During this illterdew Simkin acts as adviser to his master :lIld mock-addser to the friends. Afterwards a pursui\'ant meets !tim, and makes him deli"er a proclamatioll, which he pen'erts throughout. He next appears brillging ill a sailor with the news that old Harding's wealth bas been lost at sea. Later, whell the Im'ers' fortunes ha,'e illlprO\'ed, he acts as comic chorus durillg Philip's inter\'iew with his ullnatural brothers and friends, and harps on the folly of theil' churlish behaviour in the past. At the end, promisiJlg to presellt the lo\'ers with a masquc, hc brings in the brothers and frieJl(ls in a state of dcstitution, and makes hUlllorous commcnts upon their stol'ics of their misfortunes, ulltil he is checked by Philip. From this broad outlille it is clear that if his role is not exactly essential, yet he has his part ill the action, and that 110 insignificant or \'aluelcss one.

So much, theIl, for the employmellt of the clown in the plot. But therc are other points to be Jloticed with rcgard to thc developmcnt of this persollagc as a dramatic character. In the first place, although all stage fools provide somc sort of comic relief, tbe dramatists naturally vary greatly in ability to choose the I'ight mOlllcnt for the introduction of this relief. III cOllnexion with the l\Ioralities this point Heed Jlot be discussed, sincc there comic relief comes 111 allllost automatically throughout, owing to the fact that thc Vicc is leader of the intrigue as well as merry-maker. III these plays, moreo\'el', comedy is ollly needed to forlll a pleasillg break in the edifyillg disquisitions which fortll so large a part of the :\Ioralities,-Ilot, as a rule, to relieve a distressillg situation, siJlce tile moral plays allllost always end wcll, alld the telllporary downfall of the Vice's victillls does not of tell gi\'c rise to a situation tbat call, stl'ictly spcakillg, he called tragic. From Everyman, t.he ~lorality wllich IllOst IIcarly,

(' (,)

1 I

[.

\

36 TilE FOOL I~ TIlE ELIZABETIIA~ DHAl\lA

probably, approaches tl'agcdy, the cOlllic elemellt is rigidly excluded. III sllch Vice plays as AppillS fIIill Fir,r;iuia, tragedy is certainly present, hut there again the double fllllction of the Vice continually brillgs in the necessary comic relief .

..J It is in the reg,~ :::... dra~~l that the question of illtroducing this ) relief at the psychological moment beco\lles illlportallt. Here ollce

agaill &!J.uh~R£~~_~rel!!..e, Nowhere else in the dra;na (10 we

J find such effects producedby the juxtaposition of~and the ~!~-the. on -! ___ ~. J.loultoll descrIbes-as we filJ(l in 'Antony and Cleopatra or ICing Lear. But in the work of Shakespeare's contemporaries we at least find attempts to blelld tIle comic and the tragic with some degree of harmony, alld these attempts are by no meall!.o> "holly llnsuccessful. In tragedies proper we do not filld mallY instances of the introduction of the clown, for the great~r Elizabethan tragedians make very little use of him, though they frequently introduce comic tOllches by means of other characters, such as the hangman in The Spanish Tragedy. NOlle of the dozen tragedies (apart from Shakespeare's plays and Dr. Faustus) ill which the fool appears are of the first rank. :Many, indeed, are rambling­chronicle plays rather than true tragedies. Hence, as might be expected, it is only rarely that we find ill them any considerable artistic skill ill the introduction of comic relief, and 'we usually feel grateful that the dramatist has had the grace to leave his tragic fifth act unspoiled by the intrusive presence of the down. This, indeed, is usually the case. Almost the only clowns to appear in the fillal catastrophe cease their jesting as the end draws near. Piston ill Soliman and Perseda bids farewell pathetically to his dead mistress and shares her death; and Roger in The En.qlish Traveller when his mistress falls stricken with remorse makes his last and his ouly serious speech ill the play-lJfy sweet mistress! But usually the cluwll disappears, jesting still, before the fifth act. His duty is to selTe as relief to the minor tragedies which lead up to the final disaster. For this purpose he is introduced in various ways. Some­times a down scene is admitted into the middle of a gloomy play, as is the case in Selimus (159J.), ,,,here Bullithrumble the shepherd, who only appears twice, provides a little diversion from the appalling talf~ of murders of which the play chiefly consists. Sometimes the fool is introduced in the midst of a tragic scene, often with doubtful taste, as in the execution scene in Sir Thomas il1ore.1 Considerable developmellt in this respect is seen in a latel' play, Sir Thomas rVyat

1 Ed. Dyce, Shakespl'are Society, p. 35.

E\TOLUTIO:\ AS A DRA~IATIC CIIAHACTEIt 37

(lo07), where the clown ,ritnesses Homcs's remorse alld suicide after hetrayillg his Ilwstel', remarking, ' So, so, a ,'cry good elldillg": would all false sernlllts might drink of the ~mlllc' l-appl'Ohation lal'gely due to his allxiety to appropriate the gold which was the price of the betrayal. The contrast betwcen the detachment and want of feeling in the clown's remarks and the distl'ess of mind shown by Homes is IIOt wanting in effecti,'eness. Pel'llaps the most daring attempt in this group of plays to relieve and at the same time enhance the gloom of the tragedy, is found in Hoffmann, where Stilt introduces a touch of comedy immediately after the tI'Hgic death of Prince Jerome. 2

The Prince, his master, dies asking his father to provide for Stilt, but instead the Duke orders him to be tortured to death. The clowll remarks, ' Provide, quoth 'a ?-an you call this prm'iding, pray let me prodde for myself. Alas my poor father! he'll creep upon crutches into his gr;l\'e, when he hears that his proper Stilt is cut off by the ~tumps '-and his last word as he is dragged off to execution is

a jest. Similar to some ~xtent to his part in these tragedies is the part

played by the clown in most of the other dramas in which he appears. ' , For th,ough the comedies and romances of which the clown plays 0 ~ chiefly consist always elld happily, they often threaten for a time to become tragedy, and it is the cloWJl's office to restore that equilibrium r ,/ ofJlfe which is the essence of comedy whenever that equilibrium is .too much dist.urbed, It may be significant that in several plays, such as The Old Law, the fool docs 110t appear until Act Ill, whell sel'ious complications are developing. Shakespeare's cOlltemporaries knew c­the trick of lowering the tOile of it play whell the tension is becoming too great; and some of thelll show all ingelluity and artistic sense in the use of it which, though not comparable , ... ith hi&, are by 110 means to be despised. In the earlier plays these attempts at comic relicf are undoubtedly crude, as in Damon and Pytliias, where the comic inter-lude of the'duping of Grim the collier by the pages is introduced whell the situation of the friends is becolllillg serious, and a tragedy seems imminellt. But the later dramatists, instead of cOllcentt'atillg all theil' relief in olle OJ' two interludes, tend more and more to distribute it throughout the play, as is made possible by their grcater skill ill illtcnveaving their downs' roles with the intrigue. 'Trying ) situatiolls are continually relieved by a scene of jesting, or a SOllg, if I 0

the dow II is musical] Such j udiciotls altcrnatioll of scriolls and comic SC(' IIf'S is s('rlJ in f{()11) 10 ('liOOSf' fl Good IVUe .Ii'om (I Uful (l ()O~!), where the' clowllillg of Pipkin cOllstantly hrillgs t h(' plily hild~ to tIlt'

1 iii, :1. z iv, ~,

38 'I'll E FOOL I~ TilE ELJZABETIIA~ DRAl\[A

sphcre of comcdy. At thc gr:wcst moment of all, when ~listrcs~

Arthur is supposed to be murdercd) Pipkin relie\'es the situation by his ludicrous manner of bringing the llews.1 This device of con­veying bad news by the clown, and thus lessening the strain at painful moments) is found \'ery freqncntly. Possibly it was suggested by 0 (}-of the most delicatc and dangerous offices of the court fool.

Also suggcsth·c of the influence of the court or domestic fool is another function to be noted in tracing the dramatic development of the stage clown, already mentioned incidentally in the sketch of Simkin's role gi,'en abm'e-that of comic chorus. As the dO!!lcstic foo.! w,~s pri\'ilcK~ J:oindulge in free comment:; on any event which occu~red or any )ltatt~l~ which was ~liscussed ill his presencc) so the

.. \ stage fool oft~1 has in J:iC~1~~ whicJL~l:~ not primarily clown scenes tEe~ni,~or but elfective_ part_ of Gomm~ntator-a role compared by Col~ridge with tbl"lLQI the chorus in tl~Ecient classic drama. This function can be de\'eloped to much advantage by a skilful dramatist, for apart from the amusement which can be derived from witty comments on the situation, these comments can often be used to strike the key-note of common sense in a scene of confused harmonies, and to put the spectator at the right point of view.

Naturally the role of chorus is particularly characteristic of the court and domestic fools of the drama, but it is by no means confined to them. It appears in almost the earliest stage of the written drama,

~there are traces of it in the roles of the ill-disposed sen'ants of the /. ~1iracle plays.2 It is a favourite trick of the Vice, who delights in I uttering comic asides during the cOl1\'ersations of his yictims or his j fellow-vices, usually re\'ealing his true nature or that of his associates

in these comments. Particularly noteworthy is the scene in The Conflict of Conscience where Hypocrisy listens unseen to the com'ersa­tion of his confederates Avarice and Tyranny, and makes appropriate remarks throughout, as, fOl' example, when they are discussing the ad\'isability of making friends with a third person:

TY1·anny. I judge him needflll in our company to he, And therefore, for my part, he is welcome to me.

Hypocrisy (aside). Friendship for gain. 3

In the role of the regular stage fool this function is still 1ll0l'e prominent, particularly in the case of the servant-clown, who naturally has exceptional opportunities of exercising it. Sometimes the clown's comments are merely intended to be entertaining, as in the case of Taber's remarks on his master's conversation with the Schoolmaster.4

1 iii. 3. 2 See above, p. 26. 3 Dodsley, vi, pp. 48-.51. 4 \Iris£' Wall/all of IIogsdrm, ii. 2.

EYOLUTIO~ AS A DIL\:\IATIC CIIAR.ACTEH sa

'Yhen the laUer quotes, or tries to quote, Latin - ( Quomodo "aleR, quomodo ,'ales '-Taber exclaims, (Go with you to the alehollse ? I like the motion well.' But often these remarks are n~ry apt, as is Simplicity's COlUlllent on the meeting of Fraud, Dissimulation, Simony and Usury-

Now all the c,u'ds ill the stock are dealt about, The four kmn'es ill a cluster come ruffling out. l

Sometimes, too, they have considerable weight. The shrewd hints which Ragan, Esau's servant, conveys to his master, and his bitter comments when Esau sells his birthright, arc almost anticipatory of those of Lear's fool. 'Vhen Esan is excusing himself by pleading the uselessness of his hirthright :

( 'Vhat should I h:\\'e done wit h my hil,thright in this case? '

Ragan retorts aside: , Kept it still, and you had not been a very as~,' 2 " -1'

And occasionally, though never to the same degree as in Shakespeare' s""]J plap;, the comments of the clowns, by the good sense and good feeling which reveal themseh'es from beneath their pretended folly, ~( throw into sharp relief the folly of men who should be, and profess to ' . be, wiser. This point is hrought out by ~'lalevole, who remarks on \ " the fool Passarello's satirical hits at the follies of his master and others:

o world most vile, when thy loose vanities, Taught by this fool, do make the fool seem wise.

This idea of comparison between the clown and the chief characters appears in a different aRpect in another of his dramatic functioJls-\ that of parody. Sometimes the burlesque is implied in his role.

I

The non-servant clowl1 often appears as a parody of a group of characters-rebels, bandits and the like-and the figure of the Sl'l'\'ant

is frequently a ludicrolls imitation of that of his master, a notable example being Trimtram in A Pair Quarrel, who giyes the keynote to his character when he says, ' Look, ,vhat my master does, I use to do the like '. Particularly are the master's foibles caricatured. Thus the character of Kicholas St. Antlings ill The Puritan, who exclaims

j

ill horror at oaths, but asks his fellow-servants to 'make a lie' for him, parodies that of the Puritanical widow. Sometimes the clown l. is the centre of a sub-plot on the same lilles as the main plot- usually a love-affair, as ill the case of Corcbus in The Old IVices' Tale. The servant-clowlls ill particular of tell have Im'e-alTairs in illlitation of their masters. The most elaborate exalllple of a slIh-plot parodying

J Th r('c /,flr/ic,~' '!f /,rmr/rm , J)oll sh'y, vi, p. 2M!. 2 .Iflcoh oml Esall, DOlisley, ii , I'p. lB-:W.

.... ..... ,

L ( -.

\

·W TIlE FOOL IN TIlE ELIZ.ABETHAN DHAl\IA

the main plot is fOllnd ill TIL e Old Lwv, mentiolled carlict' in this chapter.

Fre(plclltly, the clowll intentionally parodies the speech of the serious characters either ill matter or ill style. Strumbo imitates .\lbanaet's threats to the Scythialls :

Alb. For with this sword, this instl'llment of death,

Ile separate thy bodie fl'0111 thy head, And set that coward blood of thine abroach.

Str. Nay, with this stafie, great Strmnbo's instrum ent, Ile crack thy cockscome, paltry Scithian.1

So, too, ~Iouse parodies his betters:

Segasto. Tremelio fought when many men did yield. Amadine. So would the shepherd, had he been in field.

Mouse. So would my master, had he not run away.2

And it is in this spirit that Touchstone, when Rosalind remarks after a scene between Silvius and Phebe that in witnessing the shepherd's woes she has found her own, says in his turn, 'And I mine', and proceeds to tell the story of his love for Jane Smile.3

Such, then, are the lines on which the stage fool de,-cloped as a dramatic character. vYe have seen how the dramatists learned by degrees to weave him more and more closely into the plots of their plays (usually by making him the servant of one of the principal characters), and how great are the dramatic possibilities of the character, once his position in the-actioujs assured. Apart from his chief duty, the providing of ~o.mic relie~whenever the tension is becoming too severe, he may perform-various minor functions. He may act as a link between .• sub-plot and main-plot; by his soliloquies he n!.a~_kee!Lthe. audience in£<?rm€d of the ·progress of events; by his comments in the part of comic chorus, or by parodying the foibles of the chief characters, he may help to put the spectators at the right point of view-and all this apart from the humorous potentialities of these various functions. A fool in whose role all or most of these possibilities have been judiciously developed is clearly no longer a stumbling-block to the orderly progress of a play or an incongruolls element in its compositiqn-rather is he a most valuable dramatic asset.

1 Locriile , ii. 5. 2 Jlucedorlls, Dodsley, vii, p. 224. 3 As }~o'U Like It , ii. 4 .

... , .. ,

( " -;~

~ ! ...

).

I w'

CHAPTER III

TIlE EVOLUTIOK OF THE FOOL IN CHARA.CTERIZA­TION-LINES OF DE.VELOP~IENT.

Ix the precedillg chapter a piece of contcmporary satire Oll the haphazard introduction of the fool was (p1Oted. Another cxtract from the sallle play 1 will show what standard of humour he was expected to attain. Dromo is a(h'i~ing the clown how to entertaill his audience :-' 'Yhy, if thou canst but drawe thy mouth awrye, laye thy legge over thy staffe, sawe a piece of cheese aSllndcl' with thy dagger, lape up d .. inke on the earth, I warrant thee theile bug-he mightilie.' And other references to the' fine scurvy faces' and the like tricks with which the fools were wont to convulse thei,' audicnces confirm the testimony which this quotation bears to the poplllar taste in humour at the end of the sixteenth century. Rllt though stage t"icks of a primiti\'e nature nppear to have been of primary im-pDrtance to the audicnce~ it was not to be expected th,lt dramatists of talent and artistic taste would be content with mere crude buffoonery. \'

(

As the drama develops, we see increasingly successful attempts to individualize the fool, to replace coarse and stupid sallies hy tme , humour, and thu .to transform the character into olle of "eal artistic

, and literal'y v~ltJe A n (~tt~mpt to trace this evolution i' ;-;;'~t~riza-L tion~~1rbe ma e in the two following chapters. First the different

lines on which the character de\·elopcd will be indicated, and then, ill order to fill ill the picture, a summary of the clowlI's 1I10st stl'iking characteristics will be gi\·en.

It was natural that the fool should develop along "Hi'jOllS line~, in J \ vicw of the complexity of his origin. For though in practically all the ~ clowns proper we can trace the same elemcnts, thc proportion ill which these clements are combined varies cOllsidcl'ably, and somc-t.imes olle so greatly predominates as to produce a distinct type. t. These minor types are chiefly three-the domestic ur COllrt fool, the (

. 1 .< 1 I I I" '-.J rllstlc c own, ant t lC S lreW( , jcstlllg scrvallt. As has alrea.dy been melltiuIJcd, domestic alld COllrt fools OCCIII"

with surprisillg rarity ill the regulal' drallla, IIJ SOIllC hundred 1'001

i Pi/gl'ill/uge If) l'al'lUl881(.\" CIL ~Ial'l'ar, 1'. :!:!,

4~ THE FOOL IN TIlE ELIZABETHAN DHAl\IA

(

plays (apart from Shakespeare's) examined for the purposes of this study, there .u·e barely a dozen certain examples, though there are a !!9JJ..L~f other clowns who may possibly belong to this class.

-"he Viee characters who belong to some extent to this type have already been described-Fancy and Folly, Hardy-Dardy, Mery Report, and other less distinct figures. It was pointed ant that Fancy and Folly seem to represent the two types of fool found ill mediaeval society~natural and artifici<~l Fools of both these types appear in

, the regular drama, but the artificial greatly predominate. To this class belongs the first in time, Gelasimus, Herod's fool, in Grimald's Latin play Archi-propheta (1547)-a court fool pure and simple, apparently little affected by the other elements which go to compose the latcr clown. Gelasimus may best be described as ' a hitter fool '. He gibes scornfully at the Phal'isees-' vYhat a lot my masters mumble! Mum, mum, ha-ba, be-be. Should I not make a fine Pharisee? But such work wears out the lips.' 1 He utters some sharp home truths to Herodias,2 and offers cynical advice to John­'If you will listen to me learn to serve the time. He cannot Ih-e who cannot be knavish.' Gelasimns, by the cynicism of his remarks, and the moral sense which they sometimes reveal, more nearly approaches Lear's fool than does any other of his class. Passarello in The Malcontent, sixty years later, also earns his master's comment, , A bitter fool! ' by his satirical sketches of different people about the court,3 though he shows greater detachment than does Gelasimus. His remarks are too coarse and cynical to be really humorous, in spite of the shrewdness of his blows and the smartness of his repartee, and he is not an attractive figure, though there is at least one unusual and human touch in the study-his sense of the degradat.ion of his position-' '\Vell, I'll dog my lord, and the word is proper: for when I fawn upon him, he feeds me; when I snap him by the fingers, he I

spits in my mouth. If a dog's death were not strangling, I had rather be one than a serving-man.'

A lighter type of character is that represented by Ralph Simnell in Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay (1589-90). Though he does not appear much, it is clear that he is a mere jester, ready to enter into

· I all his master's frolics; and though he makes some audacious hits, as where he tells the promised bride of the prince of the latter's former love affair,4 he is Edward's abettor, not his critic. His humonr is of the fanciful order, as ,vhere he devises numerous schemes

I •• '" 2· '" II. _. IV. _. 3 i. 7. 4 Gayley, Rel'J"C8cntatil"e Comedies, vol. i, p . .,lao.

EYOLUTIO~ I~ CIL\HACTEnIZATIO~ .~g

for the winniIlg of ~Iargaret, or asks Lacy to buy him (a thousand thousand million of fi ne hc1s') explaining that 'every time that N cd sighs for the Keeper's daughter, lIe tie a bell ahout him: and !'o within three or foure daies I will send word to his father Harry, that his SOIllle and my maistcr Ned is heeome Loves morris danc~. A coarser and homelier jester is "Till Sum mers in lVhen ?IOlt see me you. know me (1604), and his humour docs not reach a high level ;

I hut the character deselTes favourable mention as being a careful and faithful study of 'Vill, agreeing throughout with Armin's description of him, particularly in regard to his disinterestedness, his kindness to the poor, and his dislike for "Tolsey. rrhe popular Will appears again as prologue and comic chorus to Summer's Last lVill and Testament (1592), but there is no attempt at characterization.

Of the natural fool "'e find the earliest dmmatic study in Cacurgus of J.lfisogonus (c. 1560)-an exceedingly interesting character, in that .j in him we have two character sketches, one of the natural fool and one of the professional jester and mischief-maker. For though in reality he is a schemer, showing a connexion with the Vice, especial1y the Vice sen'ants, he deludes his old master into believing him an innocent-' a simple thinge ... who for his simplicitie a fooles cote doth wear',t talking rustic dialect, babbling of his 'ganser') and petted by his' "Olll1der' for the sake of his songs and tales, and the scraps of information which he sometimes brings him, in return for 'some dingdonges to hang at my sleife '.2 Cacurgus does not often appear as the natural, however, and with the exception of La.mia, the solitary female fool in the English drama, we find no 1110re innocents until the end of the century. Patch, "r olsey's fool, 3 is a slight sketch of the stupid fool, making few jests, and quite over­shadowed hy \Vill Summers, who makes him the victim of a practical joke; but in a play 11 few years earlier, Patient Grissell.4 ,ve find

I what is probahly the most delightful stlldy of the domestic fool outside the work of Shakespeare, in Balmlo, the retainer of Grissell and hel' father. This character (which docs not appear in other versions of the story) is undoubtedly excellently drawn, and the impression which it lean's on the mind is exceedingly pleasant. Babulo's Ilame gh'es the key to his character; he is a babhler, hut one of the most

, charmillg of babblers. He must be classed with the natural fools, SInce he says that he was' horn an innocent', hut he oftclI exhihits

1 Jlis0!JolllU;, Cil. Brandl, ill Qilellen rlc.v u'eltlir'hcll lJrrullfls, 1" 4~i.

2 Ihill., 1" H3. S JVhclI you s('c mc !IOU know nw.

• By (,hettic, Dekker al\d I1aug-htoll (l.')!)!).

,14 TIlE FOOL I~ TIlE ELIZABETIIA~ DItA7\IA

considerable shrewdllcss amI good sellSC, both ill his repartees a))(l in his 1lI0ralizings on life. And of good-feeling he is fllll, though he usually tries to hide it UlHler jests and pretended anxiety for his own welfare. He follows uncomplainingly the fortunes of his master and mistress, with ~~--fidelity-wo}'thy-of~ouchstone, encouraging them with his cheerful prattle; and though at first he appears fonder of chatter than of work, when troubles come he docs his best to be useful. He appears perhaps in his most delightful aspect with Grissell's childrell, giving up his own pillow to them, and dandling them in his arms and soothing them with' Hush, hush, hush, hush! and I dance mine own child, and I dance mine own child!' 1

Another no less admirable trait appears in his indignant protests against the Marquis's treatment of Grissell,2 and the blow which he gave him in the early days of his courtship for trying to kiss her against her will. \Vhether Babulo is indebted to Touchstone or not is ullcertain, but at least there is no shl\.'ish imitation, and he may rank as a worthy companion, though not as an equal, of Shakespeare's fools. <

Among the rustic clowns agaill, as has already been indicated, at least two types can be distinguished-the mere booby and the more < pretentious clown. On the whole it may be said that the earlier and cruder rustics belong to the former class, while the later ones have developed into something more than boors. The rustics of the Moralities and other Vice plays, mentioned in a previolls chapter, are

\

chiefly stupid, and to their tradition belong the first examples of the rustic class in the regular drama, most of whom make very brief appearances and have no claims to individuality. The clown of this I

type who makes the longest stay on the stage is John Adroynes, in the Second Part of Promos and Cassandl'a (1578). On his first appearance he is duped by two 'promotel's' and Phallax, Promos's mall, who frighten him illto giving IIp all his money by threatening to , accuse him of kissing his father's mai(l,3 Later, while seeking his mare, he comes upon Andrugio in hiding, and a scene of cross­purposes (not, however, very amusing) ensues, ,dlCn Andrugio tries I

to penetmte the clown's dellseness in order to obtain news from him.4 Fools of Adroynes' type appear again during the decay of the drama in the Boobies and Simpletons of the' drolls '. 6

Characters of this class are seldom very di\'erting, for though mel'e \

1 Ed. Varnha~eu, Erlan!Jcr ncilrii!Jc, L~·C. (180;3), p. 53-·5. 2 Ihid., p. 74. 3 Part II, iii. 2. f Part II, i\'. 2. 5 Kirkman, The Wit,.,.~ nr .~port IIJlOII Sport.

E\'OLUTIO~ I~ CI-IAHACTEIUZA'1'IO~ .~;'j

stupidity may be flInllY it is nercr trllly hUllIorous. Bllt with tile downs of the second dass we find cOllsiderable dt'\'e\0PIllCllt ill stlbtlety of characterization, and at least olle example of a really humorous character. The germ from which this secolld type developed s scen ill a dowlI who on th!' whole belongs to the first class- Grim

the collier, of Damon and P!ltltillS (15G4- 5). For though Grim is really stupid enongh, he thinks himself astute; 1 and a mistakt'll idea of his importance and wisdom is the IllOSt striking and most hUIllOl'ous dl< ·a.{j,cristic of the later clown. ~[ol'e definitely a member of this class is Popper, the clownish burgher of The TVounds of' Ciz'il IVa,. (c. 1587), who gil-es comlescending" advice to his admiring neighbour Curtall,2 but the sketch of Poppey is brief and slight. The first rustic witlt a distinct illdidduality is Bullithrumhle, the 'gl'Hndiloquclit shepherd of Seli7lws (1504).3 He first appears rUllning away from his wife, of whom he is terribly aft'aid, and whell Corcut and his page approach him alld beg for food he is again alarmed. But directly he diseo\'ers that they are only' poor hungel'-stan'ed men', he rec()n~rs himself, ami waxes pompous alld condescending-' Oh, these arc as a mall should sar beggar::! : Now will I be as stately to them as if I were master Pigwiggi 11 OUl' constable: well, sirs, come hefore me, tell lIle, if I should elltertain you, would you not steal? ' En~ntuaIIy he cOllcedes, ' 'Yell, if you will keep my sheep truly :uHl honestly, keeping your hands from lying and slandering, and your tongues from picking and stealing, you shall be master Bullithrumhle's servitors'. He prides himself greatly OJ) his fine language. 'rhus when he refers to 'it society of pnddings' he remarks, 'Did you mark that well-used metaphor? Another would have said it company of puddings: if you dwell with me long, sirs, I shall make you as eloquent as our parson himself.' His amusing gralldiloquence, like that of Dogberry, is made still more ludicrous by the pCtTersiolls of words and other absurdities with which it is interlarded; alld the character as it whole, though not \'ery fully del-eloped, is decidedly diverting.

But a more carefully chamcterized figure than Bullithmmble, and tile most notable of his class, outside Shakespe:u'e's plays, is Tlll'llo» ill ~111llday's play of the following ye:tI·, John It Kent ([lid JOllll II Cumber (already mentioned with regard to his dramatic importance), who Illay best he described as an inferiol' hilt by 110 1IH':lIIS cOlltemptible Bottolll. The likeness appears most "i\'idly in the first scene;' where

I Farmer, Dramatic Writings of Edwflrds, XOl'tOIl allll ..... ·(/l'kdlll" pp_ !i:J - (i!i.

2 Dodsley, vol. vii, Pl', IS!) -!J2. 3 (:l'Osal't, 1hllfile j)rt/lllllti~ts) pp. 70- .. 1.

4 Ed. Collil'r, Sltllkespeure Suciety, IS51, 1'. 15, &..:.

4G TIlE FOOL l~ TIlE ELIZABETHAN DIL\l\fA

the tl'OOP of rustics are ehoosillg' a spokesman to deliver their address of welcome to Pembroke allel :Mortoll. \Vhen, after some disputing between rI'uruop and H ugh the Sexton, Tom Tahrer decides in favour of the former, he being' my 100'des man, his hogheard, his familiaritie sen"aunt', 1\lrnop receiYes thc honour with much dignity as his due­, 'Yell, for your wisdomes ill cbusing me, I rest qlloniam dygnitatis vestrulll primarion, as the Poet Pediculus sayth; and the llext vestrie bound to deferre you to sevemll locall places.' He duly marshals the procession and deliyers the oration, of which the first quatrain is a fair sample:

Lyke to the Cedal' in the loftie sea, Or milke white mast upon the humble mount, So, hearing that your hOllors came this way, Of our rare wittes we came to give account.

At the end of this address, which reminds one strongly of PY"arnus and Tltisbe, Turnop coolly remarks that he has corrected the last two lines, 'by the error of the Authour overslipped'. Throughout the play Turnop preserves the same superior and condescemling demeanoUl'. 1'he humblest questioning of his judgement is met with some such reply as this-' Goodman Spurling, though you be purblind, and I

thereby are favoured for the grosse errours committed in your vocation, yet, I pmy ye, commit YOUl'selfe to your l1lusique: as for the song, let it passe upon my prerogastride.' And his friends look up to him I

as much as Bottom's fellows admire him. Tom Tabrer quells a lUUl'Il1U1' with, 'Nay, either let it be as l\-Ir. Turnop will have; or, by my troth, faire and softly, I will go no further. Either let us , have credit or no credit.' Turnop's speech, like Bullithrumble's, is an absurd mixture of gralldilo{!uent phrases and blunders. One point may be mentioned as particulady reminiscent of Bottom-his love of repeating a word with slight v<u'iations, as in the remark, 'Chance persuadeth you to remit, or submit, or admit yourselfe to the crye of your brethren.' But, as in the case of Babulo, if, as seems likely,! Turnop was influenced by Shakespeare, he is no mere imitation of the greater dramatist's creation, and can afford to staud ,

,..--oniIiSOWn-merits. \ Turnop represellts the most numerous class of rustic clowns, There ,

\

. is one other type of rustic-the blunt alld ignol'Unt but well-meanillg ; and sIu'ewd countryman, best represented by Hobs, the 'raIlIler of

Tamworth, in Edww"d IV.2 But Hobs and his kiud, though still amusing, stand almost entil'ely outside the sphcl'e of clOWIlS, slllce

I Oil the date see above, p. 45, note. 2 Part I, iii. 1,2, iv. 4, v. 5,

EVOLUTIO~ I~ C[L\HACTEIUZAT1U~ 47

they laLk the fully, real 01' assumed, whieh is of the..' essellce of clowllage.

This same deficiency in folly separates another class of characters from the normal type of clown-shrewd jesting sen'ants who show ~gllS of stupidity, either real or pretended. Some of these

personages are merely jesters, illl pudent to their masters and to others, and thus carrying on the tradition of the insolent sen'ants of the religious plays. To this class helol1~s Ragan, Esan's sharp-tongued sen'ant ill the play of Jacob and Esau (1557-8), who, though he indulges in some clowning, is by no means a fool. Ragan stands at the beginning of the Elizabethan period. 'Vith him may he compared a personage dating from the end of that period-Soto, ' a merry fellow ', in ~Iiddleton's Spanish Gipsy (1623). Though he is ont'e referred to as a fool, Fernando's description, 'a fine kna\'e', fits him better. He jests throughout the play, both openly and aside, ill a style very different from Ragan's erude railing. He is quite aware of his master's stupidity (though he tries to keep him out of trouble, and help him to win Constanza), and makes rude asides on his master's verses as he presents them-' Botcherly poetry, botcherly ! ' 1

It may be noted that he is given the part of the comic servant in the play which the gipsies extemporize from Fernando's plot. In snch characters as Soto's the fool element is weak, and the trallsition is easy to such personages as Lollio in The Changeliug (16~3), or, earlier, Lyly's jesting pages, where that element is wanting altogether.

~another type of comic sen'ant we find the element of self-seeking, of which there is often a suggestion in the clown, strongly developed, and with it a tendency to intrigue. 'rhe protagonists of this type are the Vice servants Subtle-Shift and Conditions, already descrihed. One of the best examples ill the regular drama is Nimble, 'frissillian's servant in Thomas of JVoodstock, whose one idea is his own gaill. He encourages his master in his villainy in the hope that he will share in the profits which it brillgs him; he entel'S thoroughly into the spirit of the commission given t.o him to spy out and arrest disaffected persons; and finally, when Trissillian has to flee for his life, Nimble, under pretence of saving him, betrays him to save himself. In the role of Nimble some clown qualities are still fOllnd, such as his mis­quotations of law-Latin, and his grandiloquellt, fantastic speech, of which the following is a sample: 'always hopillg of your wonted favour that when I have past the London Bridge of atHiction I may arrive with you at the 'Vestminster Hall of promotion.' But ill characters such as some of Lyly's servants and those of many later

1 ii. 1.

48 TIlE FOOL IN TIlE ELIZAllETHAN DHAMA

plays, the self-seeking, illtriguillg element is so developed as to swamp the fool element eIltirely, and the resultillg figures are therefore no longer clowns. As has already been mentioned ill conncxioll with the qnestion of Italian influence, it was snch characters as these that replaced the clownish SCITant in the later drama.

;-SOmuch for the millor types of stage fool. 'Vhat then was the chief type of clown, and ill what way was he differentiated from the other varieties? rro take the second question first,-in the complOnest type of clown all three minor varieties are usually so blended that no olle of them predominates in any marked degree, though naturally there is no sharp line of demarcation between the chief and the minor classes, and there are a number of characters whom it is difficult to classify. If the clown amI the domestic or court fool be compared, it will be seen that, on the whole, the clown is usually of a coarser and more ignorant type, lacking the polish which the professional fool usually exhibits in some degree. He is stupider too, than the artificial fool, and yet he cannot be classed with the naturals, since he often shows a shrewdness quite unlike the occasional inspired flashes of the innocent. Nloreover, there are a considerable number of independent clowns, and even in the case of some who are nominally

~ retainers, there is only very imperfect development of the relations between fool and master, so important a feature in the character of the domestic fool. The coarser and more stupid qualities of the down seem to be due to the influence of the rustic-but on the other hand the true clown is by no means as ignorant 01' stupid as the rnstic, and shows far more knowledge of the world and its ways. It may be remarked, too, that his tastes, like Touchstone's, are usually

,.l distinctly urban. Finally, the clown is differentiated from the third l minor type, not only by some of the qualities mentioned with regard

to the domestic fool, but also by the almost entire absence of the intriguing tendency which characterizes that class of servants . .Jb.ilike the_pI:o~ssional f~JH!---usuall¥ __ (w,ben-.a __ s~I:yant)_has some llD.ulillal

. \ ll1:!.ty to perform, but with him that_.Q!Lty-takes..only-a-secuntlary-pla.ce. \. \ ,These remarks may help to explain what the normal clown was not.

"'-To show what he actually was is the purpose of the following account of his development and characteristics.

Like the domestic and rustic fools of the drama, the regular clown is to some extent foreshadowed in the l\loralities, though the clown function of the Vice often becomes swamped by his other function. In the earlier Vice figures (apart from Skelton's court fools) it is difficult to trace anY,attempt at characterization as humorous figures. rfheir comic qualities are always of the same primitive kind-horse-

EVOLUTIU~ I~ CIIAltACTEHIZATION ,t9

play (chi('fiy consistillg' of hlows), \'iolellt auus(', oaths) and coar~e

jests, often frankly indecent. Bllt before the elld of the ~Jorality period, there is Ilotaule de\'elopment in "arious directiolls. I n the first place, the Vice, more than any other charader in the ~J()ralities, tends at an early date to bccome concrcte. Evcn in J.lIllnkilld lVt.'

find in the fonr Viccs concrcte characters, who do much to atone for their low standard of humour by their racy and picturesque mallller of speech, which, as Galcy points out, is ' a finc cah'ance ill the reproduction of the vulgar'. By the end of thc period the transformation from abstract to concrete is cOI1)plete ill all but the llames. Subtle-Shift 1 is merely an intriguing servallt, and Idlelless in TIle Jlarriage of TfTit and TVisdom, already mcntioned, is a clown with a strollg rustic tincture.

Idleness shows too that the Vice' has de\'eloped in another way: he has become more stupid. The majority of Vices are cle\'er intriguers, playing on others' credulity or stupidity, but in time they begin to exhibit signs of stupidity themseh·es. The first trace of this change is seen in those plays where OllC of the Yices is rathcr less astute than the othcrs. Thus in ResjJllblica (1553), whell Anlrice renames thc minor Vices and himsclf, in ordcr to decei,'c Respublica, Adulation cannot grasp the llew names, and thcre is a SCClle of foolillg when Avarice tries to fix them in his memory.2 Adulation also forgets his part ill conversation with Respublica, amI has to try to coycr up hin blunders 3- an early example of those slips of the tOllgue which bccarnc favourite comic devices with the later Vices, and from thelll wcre handed dowll to the clowns. Stupidity such as Adulation's is rarc in the Vice, but nevertheless hints of it do occasiollally appear, and in Idlelless, thc last of the Vices, wc find a character who, though he somctimcs deludcs others, is as frcquclltly a dupe himself. Some of his misa(h'cnturcs are amllsing, as is the scelle wlrell Sllatch alld

Catch bind and muffle him and leavc him' a-mull1ming ' . 4

Another step ill the dC\'elopmcnt of the Yicc as a humoruus character was to makc him direct his fUll against himself or his dis­I'eputable confcderates. Jokes of this nature arc much superior ill artistic effect to those levclled against ulamclcss persons, secure ill the sellse of superiority and certaill of ultimate tri 11 111 ph. Thlls in Kill!J

Darius (1565), Ini(luity's jests at the expense of Equity awl Charity compare ullfavourably with his gihes at his associates. 11 e calls thl' lattcl' , drull liell knavcs', and whell tlrey illq lIire what Ire said, replics :

1 Sir CI!J(JIIIfJII lLml Sir CllllII.'ldes.

2 Eli, :\Iaglllls, H. g, T. S., 1" l-l. 3 I1,il!" 1'. I ~,.

4 Farmer, Fil'e A I/()/I,l/I//OI/.\' l'la.'lx, Pl'. ~i'..J :t.

D

50 THP. FOOL I~ THE ELIZABETHAN DHAl\IA

I sayed yc were two hOliest men, by Illy faye. Bnt surely, I did not so thynke, No, that I dyd not, I swcarc by this drynkc.

These remarks reach no high standard of wit, but they mark an ad"ance both artistically and satirically. As Gayley remarks, 'Comedy has learned a lcsson of social importance when she turns her weapons, at last, against those who are desen-edly objects of derision or contempt '. Sometimes we find the Vice acting as comic and satiric chorus to the conversation of his associates, as in the case of Hypocrisy mentioned in the last chapter. The later Vices, ,,,ho, as a rule, have no confederates, frequently direct their uncomplimentary pleasantries against the devil. Thus Nichol N ewfangle remarks 011

seeing him:

Sancte benedicite, whom have we here? rrom Tum bIer, or else some dancing bear?

objects to doing reverence to him; pelTerts the polite address which Lucifer dictates to him; and purposely misunderstands his directions before he will deign to follow them.1 Nichol, too, since he is one of the few Vices who are definitely stated to ride off with the devil at the ' end, probably provided the audience with one of those scenes of clownery which are frequently described in contemporary references such as the following-' It was a pretty part in the old Church-Plays, when the nimble Vice would skip up nimbly like a Jackanapes into the devil's neck, and ride the devil a course, and belabour him with his ,yooden dagger, till he made him roar, whereat the people would laugh to see the de,·il so vice-haunted.' 2

Nichol N ewfangle is indeed one of the most distinctly individual comic characters among the Vices. Though, acting under the <levil's ; instructions, he is the chief agent in bringing various sets of personages ' to grief, the ethical significance of his character is slight, and never i

swamps the comic element. Nichol's chief business is to amuse, and that he is quite aware of that fact is evident from the moment when ; he first enters with a greeting to the audience almost suggestive of : the familiar 'Here we are again!' of the modern pantomime clown. I

Throughout the play he jests with the spectators and rallies them ; with the confidence of a popular comedian. For his cool rascality he 1

-\ has been not unjustly compared with Autolycus, and once at least he . shows a distinct resemblance to that personage-when he enters with ' 'a bag, a staff, a bottle, and two halters, going about the place,

1 Like will to Like, Dod!'ley, iii, pp. 3U!)-lG.

2 Harsnett, Declaratioll (if' hgregiou8 Popish Impostures (1603).

EVOLUTION I~ CHARACTEHIZATIO~ 51

showing it unto the audience', and singing, 'Trim merchandise, trim, trim '.

The Yice was indeed becoming morc and more definitely a pro­fessional comcdian. The com-ersations with the audience which are so marked a characteristic of Nicbol occnr very frequently in the roles of the later Vices, and comic devices of ntrious kinds appear in increasing numbers. Besides the blunders mentioned above, pretended misunderstandings and intentional pern~rsions are freqnent, and purely comic scenes with little or no relation to the moral of the play are more often introduced than formerly. In the Vice tragedies the Vice sometimes has a scene of buffoonery with rustics on whom he plays tricks, though at least once he is punished- and that by a woman_ 1 A comic touch of another kind occurs in the same play, Cambyses (1569- 70), where Ambidexter enters' with an old cap case on his head, an old pail abollt his hips for harness, a scum mer and a pot-lid by his side, and a rake on his shoulder' and declares that he is on his way to meet a remarkable series of foes:

Stand away, stand away for the passion of God; Harnessed I am, prepared to the field:

I would ha\-e been contented at home to have bod, But I am sent forth my spear and Rhield.

I am appointed to fight agaillst a snail, And "'ilkin 'Y ren the ancient shall bear;

I doubt not bllt against him to prevail, To be a man my deeds shall declare.2

Inclination in The Trial! of Treasure (1567) also provides a good deal of clowning, particularly whell, beillg bridled by the virtues, he plays the horse. 3 These comic devices sOllnd crude, but douhtless they were amusing enough on the stage. Idleness (perhaps the Viee who is most definitely a clown, his ethical significance taking a decidedly subordinate place), creates a more subtly hUlllorous situation ill the scene where he dupes Search. The latter has becn sent to arrest him, and sets him to make a proclamation demandillg information concefllillg himself, all of which he of course pen-erts.4

Little has beell said ill this accoullt of the comic value of the actnal speeches of the Vice, for the reason that they seldom reach it ,'cry high level in this respect. Of true wit Of hUlllour we filld ,'cry ~~

, in the Moralities. Hut enollgh has been said to show that by t he j end of his career the Vicc had developed into a professiollal cOllledian

J I>ousley, i\', 1'1" ~:22-4. 2 Jbid" p. 17(i. 3 Jbid., iii, I'P' 27B-!', 2!Ji. 4 Farmer, Pit'e Anonymolls Plays, pp. :W2- 4.

D 2

52 THE FOOL IN TIlE ELIZABETHAN DHAl\IA

/ of no mean ahility, and the down of later years found in his tricks ~ comic heritage of 110 small worth.

l~or some years-roughly speaking, from about 1580 to 1590-Vice and down overlapped, and though it is absurd to regard the latter as being directly deri,'ed from the former, it was inevitable that there

__ s_h_o_uld be considerable interaction. To this period belongs a transitional figure 0 great interest-Simplicity of Three Ladies of London (1584) and its sequel (1590). Though nominally an abstraction, he is ill reality a purely concrete figure; and he is llO Vice but a clown, the former's intriguing function being given to a group of characters with no pre­tensions to humour, and Simplicity's office being amusement only. His character is drawn with a care and an ingenuity which are remarkable considering his early date, and which are much superior to anything in any other clown play before Greene's. But it lllllSt be remembered that the author, 'VilsonJ was himself a noted actor of clowns' parts, and

f hence had experience ill the devising of comic tricks. Like all true

\

clowns, Simplicity is a ludicrous mixture of shrewdness and stupidity .

.

,: He soon detects Fraud and his associates, describes them aptly and . viddly, and makes smart comments on their remarks and actions. '

His description of FraudJs 'arms' which he saw' hang out of a stable-door' deselTes quotation:

Marry, there was nerer a scutcheon, but there was two trees rampant,

And then over them lay a sour tree passant, 'Yith a man like you in a green field pendant, Having a hempen halter about his neck, with a knot under

left earJ because you are a younger brother Then, sir, there stands on each side, holding up the cres', A worthy ostler's hand in a dish of grease. Besides all this, on the helmet stands the hangman's hand, Ready to turn the ladder, whereon your picture did stand: Then under the helmet hung cables like chains, and for what

they are I cannot devise, Except it might be to make you hang fast, that the crows might

pick out your eyes. "

~ But on the other hand, Fraud in disguise easily dupes him into

I wasting his money on worthless merchandise. l l\loreover, like other ' I clowns, he thinks himself far shrewder and wiser than he is. H e \

patronizes the lord's pages, and cannot see that they are chaffing him ' when they pretend to admire him. Thus when 'Yill explains that they are laughing 'Because your wit was so great in expounding , your meaning', Simplicity remarks complacently, 'Ye may see it is I

1 Dodsley, vi, pp. 438-40.

EVOLUTIO~ IN CHAHACTEHIZATIO~ 53

a good thing to have wit'. Like most of his Sll('cessorR he devotes it great deal of thonght to the !';ubject of food and drink , of which he continually babbles, and he is absurdly afraid of his wife awl anxiolls

--to-.~iliate her. His attempt to punish Fraud must ha\'e bee II a ludic~ of clowning. He is ;tllowed to run nt him hliJl(l. folded with a lighted torch, hilt being tU1'lled roulld first he loses his bearings, ami burns a post instead, the ashes of which are shown him as being Fraud's, when he inquires ill great cxcitement, ' Han' I heated his lips? Havc I warll1'd his nose, and scorched his face?' 1 As a matter of fact, Simplicity is a far better de"eloped character than allY of the earliest clowns distinctly so called, and the play itself, though allegorical, has too much vitality to form an inappropriate setting.

But Simplicity's contemporaries are 1I0t worthy companion!'; for him. ,\Vith the beginning of the regular drama the developmellt of the mcrry-maker as a humorous character suffers a relapse, similar to, and no doubt partly involved ill, that relapse noticed in his de"elop~\ mellt as a dramatic figure. The more closely a clown is cOllllecte(~ \ with the action of a play, the more extensivc are his opportunities for IV humour, particularly the subtler kinds of humour; so to some extent the de\'clopment of the fool as a humorous character follows his dramatic deyelopmellt. It is not Rllrprising, therefore, that Greene's clowns are the first to show any considerable merit in characterization. 'rhe earlier sketches are usually "ery crude. That of 'rl'Otter 2 is perhaps one of the best of them, though the role is a small one. The workmanship of the play is poor, but the scene of Trotter's ridiculous and presumptuous wooing of Em is quite amusing in its way, as when he breaks into verse:

Ah mark the device-For thee, Illy 1(J\~e, full sick 1 waR, in hazard of my life, Thy promise was to make me whole, and for to be my wife.

Let me enjoy my lo\'e, my dear, And thou possess thy 'rrotter' here. 3

But of such a character as Derrick in The Famous Victories of l1em'y V (written before 1588), Collier's remark is jnst- ' That Tarlton was able to make anything out of such ullpromising I1laterials affords strong evidence of the origillal resources of that extraordillary performer. '

~liles in Friar Bacon and Friar Bllll!Jay, however, who appeared shortly after Derrick, is a really humorous clOWII. He is a hopeless

1 p. 50]. Fair Em. 3 Simpson, .~·chool '!! Shukt'Spcart', \'01. ii, Pl" 422- 3.

- ) 54 THE FOa L IN THE ELIZABETIIA~ DRAl\IA

~ dunce in spite of all his master's efforts to instruct him, but the scraps of Latin alld other leaming which he has picked up make his speeches the morc amusing, as when he remarks in bringing in books, , Ecce quam bonum ct quam jucundum habitarc libros ill unum', or when, as often, he breaks into macaronic vcrse. Though a stupid hlunderer, l\lilcs has a good deal of wit. 'Yhcn Burdell is depreciat­ing Bacon's powers, ~lilcs, who has a wholesomc fear of his master, remarks of Burden, ' ~laric, sir, he doth but fulfil ... the fable of the Fox and the Grapes: that which is above us pertains nothing to us.' He shows his quickness of repartee when he replies to Bacon's challenge to prove 'ego' a substanti,'e, "Yhy, sir, let him prove

!lhil1lSclfe and a will: 'I' can be heard, felt, and understood.' His amusing monologue while he keeps watch over' Gondman Head ',1 is

. anticipatory of those of Shakespeare's downs, while 011 the other l hand his contented departure to hell with the devil at the end links \ him with the Vices of the past. . The decade which elapsed between the appearance of l\liles and that

of his brother-clown Slipper was a period of development ill various directions. ""T e find no personage showing an all-round advance in characterization (none, indeed, equal to ~liles), and clowns of Derrick's type still appear,2 but the improvement which many clowns show ill different respects points to an increasing care in characteriza­tion. Piston in Soliman and Perseda (159:2) provides no striking instance of wit, but his debate with himself when he is entrusted with the carcanet,3 thOligh scarcely humorous, shows the gl'Ound­work on which was afterwards built the immortal argument between the fiend and Launcelot Gobbo's conscience. Suggestive of later downs, too, is his teasing of the braggart knight Basilisco.4, His shrewd hints to his master form a link between him and the sharp­witted servants of Ragan's type, but the method which he employs is not Ragan'S but that of the domestic fool, for he introduces his suggestion of false dice .'vith the tentative remark, 'I, but heare you, Maister, was not he a · foole that went to shoote, and left his arrows bel.!iEde him? ' 5 If •

I Advance in other di'l:ections is seen in Strumbo of Locrine (1594), ( a character of considerable vitality, showing the presence of various I elements which had important developments later. In the first place,

he anticipates some characteristics of Falstaff, for although he claims

1 Gayley, Representath'e Comedie.'S, vol. i, pp. 485-6. 2 e. g. Tom l\1iller in Life and Death of Jack Straw (1593). S Soliman and Perseda, ii. 1. 4 Ibid., i. 4. 5 Ibid., ii. 1.

E\'OLUTIO~ I~ CIL\ltACTEHIZATIO~ fJ;3

to posses~ great courage, whell the battle hegills he l'xclailIls, , 0, horrible, terrihle!' and hastens to sa"e himself hy sh:unming death.1 Also, his style of speech shows one mode which was to become popular with the clown-ahsul'(U~grandiloquent language, ill which Strull1uo delights, particularly ~~ ,,'(willg, albeit his _~>t­

heartJ!;) quite unable to understand it. 2 One of his fine speeches is ~)arody of Euphui;';;-' 1, maisters, ,you may laugh, but I must ",eepe: you may joy, but I must sorrow, sheading salt tears frolll the watrie fOllntains of my moste daintie faire eies, along my comely and smooth checks, in as great plentie as the water runneth from the uucking-tubbes, or red wine out of the hogs hcads.' But while in grandiloquence of speech Stl'umho may be held to anticipate such characters as the bom bastic DOll Armado, his blunders, OIl the other hand, link him with the Bottom cla~s.

\Vithin a year Bottom hilllself appeared, to be followed shortly by several more of Shakespeare's early clO\\'IlS, so that frolll this time we may expect to find tmces of Shakespeare's influence. One of the first of these signs is probably the change which Lyly's comic sernmts undergo. In most of his plays they are rather jesters than dowlls, but Gunophilus, Pandora's servant,:1 and the> unfortunate "ictilll of all the changes in her disposition, is of a more clownish type, As Bond has noted, the proportion of true humour to mere superficial wit is greater in the case of GUllophilus than in that of his predecessors. Particularly in his' rueful apprcciatioll of his OWI1 mishaps' he seems to show the influcncc of the Shakespearian clown.

There is no definitc trace of Shakespeare's influence in Slipper, but he is a distinctly different type from .:\Iiles, for though foolish enough to let his money be stolen, he is hy no mealls as stupid as ~liles, and his remarks are decidcdly wittier aIld more amusing. On the whole, he is a subtler and more fanciful charader. The difference betweeIl the two lllay be compared with the diff~rence hetween their ends, for while ~li1es rides off on the devil's back to be a tapster ill hell, Slipper is carried away hy Oberon and his' antiques '. Roundahout and fantastic speech is popular with him---:also riddling allswers, as when, asked where his master is, he replics, ' Neither aho\'e ground

, nor ullder ground, drawing out red into white, swallowillg down(' without chawing that was never made without trcading " hy which, as he e\'cntually explains, he means that his master is 'ill his seller, drinking a cup of neate alld hriske claret in a howle of siln'I'.' A delightful example of his allusi,'c method of spcakillg is the way ill

I Lor,Tine, ii. G. 2 'hil!" i. :-:, 3 The Womlln in the Milone (1.'i!)7),

56 THE FOOL IN TIlE ELIZABETl-iAN DRAMA

which hc gets food and drink from the countess by hints- ' Oh what a happie gentlewoman hee you trulie! the world reports this of you, :MistI'cs!'e, that a man can no sooner come to your house but the Butler comcs with a blaeke Jack and sayes, '\V cleomc, friend, hearl's a cup of thc best for YOll." 1 H e is 'swift and sententious' and ready with his answers, as when he proves that, being a horse­keeper, hc is a gentleman, since' they that do good sen-icc in the Commollweale are gcntlemen; but such as rub horses do good sel'\'ice in the Commonwealc; Ergo, tarbox, J\laster Courtier, a Horse­keeper is a Gentleman '. As these remarks suggest, he is important and self-satisfied, especially when ordering h~s new clothes.2 Of moral sense, like most clowns, he is quite destitute. '\iVill I, sir? " he replies eagerly, when offered a bribe to steal his master's letters; , Why, were it to rob my father, hang my mother, or any such like trifles, I am at your commaundement, sir. lrhat will you give me, 'r-?...1---r But one does not <[llarrel with a clown for lack of moral sense,

unless the dramatist fails to make this want amusing, as is the case in , I The Old Law, which appeared a year or two after Jmnes IV. A comic

i dramatist of greater genius than J\fiddleton could have drawn much entertaining matter from Gnotho's attempt to dispose of his old wife in order to marry a new one, but on the whole this clown is not sufficiently humorous to be anything but a distinctly llnpleasant character, He is coarse and shameless, and much of his jesting is either too foolish or too grim to be funny. An example of the latter variety is his explanation of the situation of his two wives to the duke 'As the destiny of the day falls out, my lord, one goes to ,,'edding, another goes to hanging; and your grace, in the due consideration, shall find 'em much alike; the one hath the ring upon her finger, the other a halter about her neck. "I take thee, Beatrice," says the bridegroom; " I tak~ thee, Agatha," says the hangman; and both say together, to have a~d to hold, till death do part us.' He is perhaps most amusing where he moralizes, as at the end, where he poses as a much injured man-' Your grace had been more kind to your young subjects-heaven bless and mend your laws, that they do not gull your poor countrymen in this fashion : but I am not the first, by forty, that has been undone by the law. 'Tis but a folly to stand upon terms,'

Gnotho has been described partly as a warning that Slipper must not be taken as representative of the clown at the end of the sixteenth century. But from about this time we notice a decided general

1 James IV, ii. 1. ~ Ibid., iv. 3.

EVOLUTION I~ CHAHACTEHIZATIO~ 57

impro\'ement ill characterizatioll, accompanyillg" alld pmhahl)' partly consequent Oil that ill1pro\'emcnt in c1l'amatic treatment de~crib('d in thc last chapter, and likc that doubtless partly duc to thc ilIfluC'llce of Shakespeare. In all probability his dowils IlOt only in~pin·d othcr dramatists but also did ~olllething to cultivate the public taste in clo\\'nage. In the first decade of the seventeenth cpntury, though a few crudely-sketched characters still appear,1 the e\'olution of clowns as a class in characterization, as ill other respects, reaches its highest pitch; and from this point it is impossiblc to trace chrolIo­logical developlllent further. All that can be done is to point out some \'arieties of the mature dowll. The nOlI-servant clowns, being

~allel!...class, may be taken first. A character somewhat reminiscent of Gnotho, but decidedly more

amusing, is Scull1hroth, the cOllvent cook in Dekker's play, If tltis be not a Good Play, tlte Dail is in it (1612). Like Gllotho) he is something of a rogue, hut. ulIlike that of Gnotho and sHch characters as tIl{' cowardly, greedy clown of The FOl(}' Prelltices q/ London (c. 1600), SClll11broth's roguery is on the whole rather di\'erting than offensi\'e. Once or t"'icc 11(' appears in a merely ullall1iable light, as when, after receidng half the gold found by the Sub-Prior on the condition that he gives the remainder to the poor, he remarks asidl', C Foole: Ile gi\'e the blill(le a dog to lead 'em. the lame shall to the

whipping-post, the sick shall dye in a cage) and the hungry leap at a crust; I {eede magues) the pox shall'. But as a rule his foihles are amusing, as is his Im'e of good cheer, which makes him .111 ardent ally of the demon Shacklcsoul when the latter sets to work to corrupt the c0\1vel1t. 2 His greed emboldens him to COli verse ('oolly and

impudently with the Golden Hl'ad whell it appears, after the mallller of Miles) as whell he retorts to the remark 'That gold is lIone of thine ') 'But all the craft in that great head of yours callnot get it out of my fingers.' ~Iost amusing of all is the scene where) cl'Ouching ill the tree which he has dim hed in search of more gaill) he listells ill alarm to the devils' conferencp and makes half scared, half satirical remarks thereon, such as (whell they emhrace) 'Sllre these are 110

Christian Divels, they so 100'e one another.' rl'hc situatioll grows ludicrous \"hell to his horror he discO\'ers that his own fate is the subject of their cOII\ersatioll.:J

A more attractive type of character is that represented hy Bamahe BUllch 'the Botc1H'I" in The TVeakest ,floeth to the 117(1// (HiOO).

1 e. g. ClowlJ ill if :1JIJIl kl/ow /I/Jf JIIf' ,7/UII klloll' Xllf,lIdy. 2 Dekker's Works, ell. BlIllCIl, \'01. iii, 1'. 2B:3. S I hill., PI'. 32(i-~.

58 THE FOOL I~ TIlE ELIZABETHA~ DHA~IA

Like most clowlls, hc seems to have a fairly sharp eye on thc main chance, for he asks Lodowick to send hack as many diseases as possible fl"Om Frallce so that he lllay make a good thing of grare­diggillg, but he is ne\'cr grasping or greedy. "Yhy, what do ye think of me ?' he asks when offered a reward, ' a horseleech to suck ye ?' He shares the exile of Lodowick and his family with unselfish deY(>tion, and once shows remarkable delicacy-when he takes thc FlemiIlg aside while Lodowick says farewell to his wife. l Barnabe is always contented and good-tempered. He first appcars singing at his work, his songs being scraps of ballads apparently suggested to his mind by passing e\'ents.2 There is it ludicrous scene of mis­ullderstanding between him and the Fleming,3 and his wistful pane­gyric 011 English ale is also amllsing-' This France I confesse is a goodly Countrey, but it breeds no Ale hearbes, good water thats drinke for a horse, and de vine blanket, and de vine Coverlet, dat is rine Claret for great outrich cobs. ,yo ell fare England, where the poore may have a pot of Ale for a penney, fresh Ale, finne Ale, nap pie Ale, nippitate Ale, irregular, secular Ale, couragious, con­tagions Ale, alcnmistical1 Ale '.

Still more jovial than Barnabe, and more of a clown, is 'Vi1l Cricket, the appropriately-named merry-maker of TVily Beguiled (1606), who is described as 'the merriest wooer in all womanshire '. He constantly acts as jester, and makes some smart answers and comments when in company with the principal characters, whose natures and relations he appears to understand fairly well. But as a lover he is, though successful, utterly ludicrous, as when he analyses his emotions in absurd terms or describes his lady's charms in language worthy of Pyramus :

Then say I, sweet honey, honey, sugar-candy Peg, 'Vhuse face more fair than Brock my father's cow;

Whose eyes do shine Like bacon-rine; \Vhose lips are blue, Of azure hue;

crooked nose down to her chin doth bo·w.4

'Yhen we turn to the servant-clowns w~ find such a bewildering number that it is difficult to make a selection. But in the first place one may be chosen to show what stage had been reached in the development of this type at the beginning of the seventeenth century, and thus about the middle of Shakespeare's career. For this purpose

1 Malone Society Reprints, Sr. "ii. 4 Dousley, ix, p. 244.

2 Ibid., Sc. ii. 3 Sc. iv.

ErOLUTIO~ I~ CliAHACTEHIZ.\TIO~ 59

Pipkin, the SCITant of Young Arthlll' and his wife ill I/ow 10 choose II good I rite .Ii·olll II Bad (1602), may be selected. Ile is onc of the garrulous, good-for-nothing clowns who are more lllischienJlls thall helpful, but Ilcycrtheless h:\\'e many attractirc and ('\'ell lo"abl(' qualities. It takes a considerable time to induce Pipkin to cease his chatter and start Oil all errand; alld ",hell he is at home thl' lIlaid complains that 110 one can' kcep his fingers from the roast', amI also that he is ' such a slo\'en :

That lIothing will sit handsome ahout him; He had a pound of soap to scour his face, And yet his brow looks like the chimney stock.'

As a scholar, too, he is hopeless, judging from the amusillg scclle at ~Iaster Amilladab's school (where, notwithstanding his late arri\'al and his lamentable ignorance of Latin, he mall ages to a\'oid punish­mcnt for onee),1 and also from his own account of his scholastic career-' Let lIle see, what agc am I? some four-and-twenty; and how have I profited? I was five years learning to criss cross from great A, and the years longer coming to F, ... And so forth: so that I am become the greatest scholar ill the school, fur I am bigger than two or three of them.2 , His employment of his scraps of leal'lling:l reminds us of another unsatisfactory scholar, ~Iiles. But though he is incapable of learning, he has wit enough to grasp the state of affairs betweell his master alld mistress. ~IoreO\'cr, he sho\\'s gO(Jd feeling as well as good sense, and seellls really fond of his master and mistress. IIis lamentations whell ~Iistress ArthUl' is supposed to he dead are apparently sincere though extra\'agant,4 ami his attachment to Arthur Illay he inferred from the new wife's order:

Go, turn hilll out of doors; None that loves Arthur shall ha\'e house-room here.

Fleay's assignation of this play to Heywood is probably incorrect, hut it cannot be denied that Pipkin, though his role is smaller thall that of Heywood's best clowns, sho,,"s distillct affinities to them.

Some rcmarks on Heywood's downs will fittingly conclude this study of the evolution of the fool in characterization; for these downs cover practically thc wholc of the remainder of the fool's career, gin' a good idea of the variety in artistic merit shown by the fool e\'en at this period, and indude prohahly the best-developed fools of the whole drama apart from Shakespeare's. In the extant ,,'orks of this most prolific writer at least fifteell downs appeal', ranging over a period of some forty years-roughly, from about 1594 to 16:3+.

Iii. 1. 2 iii. 1. 3 V. 1. • iii. :1.

60 THE FOOL IN THE ELIZABETHA~ DRAMA

As mi~ht bc expectcd, they arc of very unequal merit in character­izatioll as well as in dramatic importallce. One or two are of cxt!'eme crudcness, notably the clown of 'If you kllow not me'. Those of the plays 011 classical subjccts,1 an', as has already heen melltiolled, spoilt by the extremc uwmitahility of their scttillgs, if not by clumsy or careless workmanship. Thus Pompey is not only an exceedingly coarsc and unpleasant charactcr, hut is tota.lly out of place ill such a story as that of Lucrece. Other clowns again, such as the onc in The Royal Ifill!} and lite Loyal Subject, have too little humour or wit to be anything but dull and tediolls.

But Heywood is no more faulty in these respp.cts than many of his contemporaries, amollg whose clO\vns parallels to the imperfect characters just mentioned are easily found. And on the other hand four of his clowns stand ont conspicuously not only alllong his own merry-makers but also among those of the whole period, and Illay be taken as representative in characterization as in other respects of the highest development of the clown along ordinary lines.2 These four, Roger, Fiddle, Clem, and Simkin show distinctly individual character­istics. Roger and Fiddle may he classed together, since each is conspicllons for his wit and his elegant language. Of the two Roger is the more fantastic in speech. He delights in long fanciful accounts of scenes and events. Thus he describes a feast to his mistress in such terms as to make her believe that he has been witnessing all awful massacre, and sustains the illusion for a considerable time.3

His wit is partic\llarly smart and ready, and is continually com­mended:

Dalavill. I doe not think but this fellow in time may fo), his wit and understanding make Almanackes ? .

Clown. Not so, sir, you being much more judiciolls than I, Ill' give you the preeminence in that, because I see by proofe you have s11ch iudgment in times and seasons.

Dal. And why in times and seasons? CI. Because you have so seasonably made choise to come so iust

at dinner-time.

Fiddle's wit is also m\leh admired. One of the best examples is the way ill which he wheedles money out of Berry:

Fid. Have you allY skill in Arithmeticke ? Be';'. VVhy <lost thou aske ?

1 Golden Age (date unknown), Bl'a .~·ell Age (15!),5 ?), Rape of L1lc1'ece (c. 1604) . . ~ 'Vith them may be compared Hobin in "rilkins's Niseries of Eliforced

Marriage (lG07), Shorthose in lVU 1)'ithollt MOlley (1614 ?), and others. ;) The Hng/ish Trm'clle1' (c. 1(27), Heywood's Works, \'01. iv, pp. 25-6.

EVOLUTIO:\ IN CIIAHACTEHIZA'l'IO~ Gl

Fid. Sir, I would ha~'e YOIl to lIlultiply; could you Hot make this OJle shilling two or three? I wonld Ilot he kn()wnc to heg, but if you can doe this trick of multiplication I shall speckc the better .... So, sir, this is l'lultiplicatioll, 1I0W, sir, if yon kllow the Rule of addition you a 1'(\ :tn excellellt ~cholll'r: can you not adde? I

His languagc is \'ery grandiloqucnt and eloqucnt, and his opinion of himself is decidedly high. Aftel' his disagreemcnt with BowdleI' he makes peace magnanimously allli condesccmlingly, though the fault was entirely his own-' 'Vhy, then, allgcr ayoid the roome, melallcholy march away, choler to the lICxt chamber, and here's my hand. I am yours to commalld from this time forth, your ycry morta]] friend and loring enelllY, master Fiddle,' And Bowdler, who, like e\'eryolle else, is fona of him, at once yields: 'Fiddlc, gi\'c IIlC thy hand, a plague 011 thee, thou knowest I 10\'c thec'.

Fiddle has little opportunity for the display of deeper and gravel' qualities, but traces of these appear in hoth Rogcr and Simkin. Roger'S apparent grief at his mistress's sad cnd has already been mentioned 2; and Simkin gh'es e\'en clearer proof of his kindness of heart. Though at first his chief idea appears to be the prospective wedding-feast, as SOOIl as his young maste)' gcts into troublc he is filled with pity which is e\'idently sincere, though extrayagantly expressed, and at once promises his help.3 He shows righteous indigllation, too, at Old Harding's treatmcllt of Philip, and the faith­lesslless of the latter's friends. The way in which he works upon the

friends' greed to illllllce them to help his master is derer, and it is not his fault that his scheme fails,4 At times too Simkin shows COIl­

siderable wit, as when he replies to Philip's remark that:

Nonc but stich a father Could so translate his childrell,

, Oh, ~Ir. Philip! I see your father is no scholar, but a meer dllnce. I protest I lIe\'er read it morc vile translatioll.' I Ie delights in puzzling his hearers by 1'01IIldahout lallguage, often quite ullintelli­gible.5 He is grandiloquent, too, i~1 his speech, sometimes substitutillg a simplcr word' for the vulgar .', in the style of TOllchstone.

Clem, the Fair ~laid's 'drawer', is agaiu of a different type­coarser, Illore \·irill', and perhaps more typically English, alld there­fore in keeping with the play, which brcathes the very spirit of Elizabethall England. He lIses less am hitious langnage than the

) The Fair .Mnid (if the 8 .n·hrlll!JC' (HiOi), Ilcyw()o!l'" WIJl'ks, ii, p. ~!.l,

2 Sec above, p. 51. 3 FortI/lie h.11 1,lIl11lalld :::;ea, ii. 1. 4 ii. 4. G iii. I.

(jQ THE FOOL IN THE ELIZABE'l'HAN DHAl\lA

othcr threc clmnls, and does not so often display the filler varieties of wit, hut sOllle of the jests in which he contillually indulges, in season or out of seaSOll, arc very good, as is his account of the different kimh; of wille,l or his remark when the sailors wish to havc their account scored up-' They took nH' for a simple gull, indeed, that would have had me to have taken chalk for cheese.' ~/roreover,

his adYCntllres whik follmdng his mistress's fortunes Oll land and sea give him wider opportunities for his wit thall fall to the lot of thc other clowns. rrhllS we have the benefit of his opinion of the 'Moors: 'I have obscn'ed the wisdom of these :Moors: for some two days since, being iuvited to one of the chief bas haws to dinner, after meat, seated by a huge fire, and feeling his shins to bum, I requested him to pull back his chair, but he very undcrstalldingly sellt for three or four masons, and removed the chimney.' His ad\'entures also produce some amusing accounts of his misfortunes.2 One at least of these is due to his love of gain, a fairly prominent feature of his character. E"en when his mistress is captured by bandits his chief concern seems to be for his wages.3 But on the whole he selTes her faithfully and cheerfully enough, in adversity as well as in prosperity. His jovial, kindly clowning, sustained throughollt the two 10llg parts of

\ the play, may be taken as typical of the' honest English clown' l at his IJPst.

1 Fair .J/aid ,go the West (before WI';), Shakespeare Society , 18.50, p. 4.5. 2 e. g. p. 59. 3 p. 141.

CHAPTER IV

THE SA:\IE CONTIKUED- SU:\I:\lARY OF

CHAIL\C1'ERISTICS.

THE outline of the dl'wlopment of the stage fool gi,'en in the two preceding chapte)'s is necessarily very incomplete, and call give no clear pictnre of the clown ill general. As an attempt to supply these deficiencies, a sUllllllary will here be given of the principal character­istics of the fool both ill the printed and in the acted play. Some of these qualities are cOlllmon enough in themseln's and by no means essentially comic, though they are converted into comic d(~"ic('s by thc downs. In the first place, the stage fool i~~llnli>stilI;!.J:iably_--'.Lloyer

of creature comforts, hating work~ trav~h a)Ht rrJlysical discomfort of ~ kin(~ 'lEd ma1il~~~erriblc_ fuss. when any such trial falls to his lot. Particular!}' does he obie~t to hu~ger . and thirst) illd~(l, anxiety ahout food and drink is one of his earliest characteristics. It is sug~;d indirectly i~the ~l~lra-et;l~ of tIle ~arlier Vices and directly in that of the later ones; and it figures prominelltly ill the role of Simplicity, thc first pure clown, ,,,ho on making Hospitality's acquaintance promptly invites himself to dinner, but scoms hi3 plaill fare, and after his murder refuses to mourn for him, because:

He was all old churl, with Jlever a good tooth ill his head.

He had lIothing Imt beef, brcad and chet'se for me to eat. Now I would ha,-e had some pies, 01' bag-puddillgs with great

lumps of fat. l

And this characteristic persists throughout the clOWII'S histmy. \Y (' find Simkill gloating o\'er the expected weddillg-fcast, of which he gives a fantastic description: ' This being thc wedding-day of my master's eldest SOil, I expect rmc cheer; as, first, the great ~pic('d cake to go in, cake-bread fashioll, drawll out with l'\1I'1"ants: the jealous furmety mllst put 011 his yellow hose again, alld hot pies COllie mincing after: the boiled muttoll IIIUSt swim ill a rire .. of stewed broth, where the chanllel is made of prunes illstead of pchhle~, and prime raisins and currallts ill thc stead of checker-stones alld gr;n'e!

1 Three /.(lflies qf LOlldoll, J)o(hdc)" vi) p. :318.

/

64 THE FOOL IN THE ELIZABETHAN DRAMA

to omit geese and gulls, ducks and dotterels, widgeons and wood­cocks, of which there will be plenty'. Sometimes food of some kind seems to be Ilsed as a comic propel·ty. III J{ing Darius Iniquity says to Constancy:

Nay, thcn I will give you no bread and butter. Herc, take some-

and the Simpleton!; of the DroUs also appear munching huge slices of bread-and-butter. In connexion with the fool's love of comfort may be mentioned another point already noticed-his preference of urban to rustic life. This is notably the case with Shorthose,1 who laments bitterly on hearing of his mistress's intention to leave town, and rejoices greatly when she changes her mind.

Fine clothes also have considerable attraction for the clown­a characteristic probably &ri-;ed partly from tIle nahlral fools) who seem to have delighted in Qrnaments al)d bdght cQlonrs. Thus Slipper, on receiving his reward from Bartram, promptly lays it out on finery,2 which he never obtai"ns, as he loses his money, so we do not see him flaunting as \ve see Clem 3 and Shadow.4 And since one needs money

II for fine clothes and food and drink, the clown lm'es money too, and

uses all his wits to obtain it. Fiddle's Feste-like mode of begging ~y been quoted. Other fools use more questionable methods. The clown in Sir Thomas TVyat appropriates the price of Homes's betrayal of his master, and Piston rifles Ferdinand's dead body.5 Food and drink the clown often steals outright, as l\Iouse steals the pot of ale. G And for gain or ' preferment', he is often content to be a time-server, as is the case with Lentulo, who readily deserts his old master for Penulo in the hope of a place at court.7 This love of gain sometimes leads him into trouble. An early example of this occurs ill Appius and Virginia, where Haphazard's anxiety to claim his reward brings about his undoing; and in the same way Clem's anxiety for 'honour' gets him into trouble at the court of Fez.

This brings us to another point-t.be ~low!!.. is freJrll .. cntlY-Jilll~d. lieJ~~s to play practical jokes, as when Revenge sets th~ rustics at lo..ggerh-;;Uis, s- mHl Taber gets money from his master on false

1 Fletcher, IVU u'ithollt .... llOIlt'.'I , iii. 1. ~ James IV, iv. 3. 3 Fair ....lIaid of the lVe,s·t, Part I, Act v. 4 Dekker, Old FOl'iUllutll8 (Wor/(.\·, eel. Bullen, yol. i, p. 13D). 5 Solimuu. llnd Persl'r/a, ii. 1. e .JIncedorll.'f, Dodsley, yii , p. 234. 7 Rare Triumphs qf Love awl Fortllue, Dodsley, vi, p. 182. 8 Pickering, Horestes, ed. Collier in lllllstratinws of Old Ellglish Literature,

yolo ii, pp. 5, 6.

SUM?\L\HY OF CIL\IL\CTEHISTICS G.)

pl'etl~S ; 1 lJllt Oil the other halld, he is qllil~ .a~ Jre4ucntly tilt'

victilll himsl'lf, either of~h;.lrl)er wits, as isUrimill DamOJL alld Pl/thius,

£r of his O\~JLgl~ttlt and folly, i~is... the. J,;asc with ~clllllbroth, who mistakes thc echoes of his OWll questions for answcrs, and acts IIpOIl them acconlingly.2

)Iorcon:-r, ~he fool i~ oftClL a. cow<lnl. lIe is rcady ellough to bra~ r 'v'

~~lld threatell-lhe_ Vices arc particularly conspicllolls ill this respect:J -but he usually ll!akes a POOL' show if allyolle cOllfronts him resolutely; e\'cn if it be only a \roman. Strumbo's Falstafl1all beh,l\'iour in battle has alrcady berll describcd. So ill The Blind

Beggar of Bednall Green, though Swash, ",hell cntrnsted with his

master's mOllcy, boasts mightily of his desire to mect a thief and prorc his nllollr, as soon as the desired marauder appears he surrenders with ludicrolls abjectness-' I pl'ay you, do hind IlH' hard, do, good

)Ir. Theef, hardcr yet, Sir.' 'YhCll married, the clown is usually the humhle slil\'c of a shrewish wifc, as is the case with Simplicity and Bullitllrulllble.

Allothcl' elllotion which oftcll cxhibits the fool in a ridiculous light \ is that of Ion'. Someti.lllcs his passioll is hopeless, as in the case of _ '{'!'Otter alld Lellt~lt ~he l-:tillles, \\~ Iu.\I1- it is less alllbitiolls, it is

emincntly successful, as is that uf Cricket. But always it filld~

~~£!'cssioll ill a flood Of-.3~JSU}·l!ly _cxtranlgant exclalllatiolls. SOllle l'xamples of these han~ already beell g-i\'cn, but a quotation frolll Strumbo -1 lllay be added-' Oh wit, Oh pate, 0 Illcmorie, 0 halld,

o illk,,, 0 pap"r!' Thc lm'e-affairs of two dOWJls arc particularlr lloteworthy, ill that they resl'llIble Touchstolle's wooing of ~\.udrl'y.

Frog-'s cOlldescellding address to DOllee, CJl(lillg--' as that

\YOl'thie Philosophel' Hector scs, the words Of the wise do offelld the foolish, so DOllce, ill few words :\lld tediolls talke Tell me when is the day'-

may have beell illspire,l by the tOile of Touchston c's courtship, since The Fair i.llaid of B,'is/oll' appeared some years later than As } 'UIl

Like it. The l} Ilestioll of illdebtedn ess is 1ll0l'e dOllhtful ill n'ganl tll

.. Yobody llnd Somebody, for this play seems to ha\'e heen acted abollt 1592 but revised about IG06. BIlt that there was illdehtedlll'ss Oil

one sidc seems pl'Obablc, for the way ill which t he clown carries lItY the girl from the country fellow to wholll she was betrothcd is decidedly

J IIcywoo,I, lJ'ise lJ'omClII oj' J!o!Jsdo/l, ii. :!, ~ Dekker, If tMs 1)1: 1I0t (l (Jour! jJII1!I, the /J('('if is ill it, 3 c. g. Folly ill The Wurld liml tllI~ ('hild. 4 Lucrille, i, ::.

E

(W TIlE FOOL I~ TIlE ELIZABETIIA~ DRA::\IA

]'('lllini5ccnt of the Illanner in which TonchstOlH' calTies off Audrey

from '" ill iam. l

To come to those characteristics which belong lllore essentially to the clown. Of his llOr~cplay and his more acrobatic tricks we know little, except frolll contemporary references, for IJaturally there are fe,,~_y~conls of these tricks in the printed ,'ersions of t.he plays. 'Ve can 5ec, howeyer, that .!,bel'e was _~ grcat deal of r:~)Ugh-and-tumble _~~~ting,~JiPQeial1yj!l th~~~~!lC Vicc~ and the earlier regular clmyn~ who usually -.S<.'attCLblows n:~ry liberally around them. That this fighting was regarded as a regular source of diversion is clear from such stage-directions as the following (referring to Hapha.lard's fight with :Marian)-' then one on the top of another make pastime'.

ccasionally 'We lUlve gli~npses ~f O!!ler v~ieties~~lery. 'Ve can picture Inclination, bridled, prancing round the stage, neighing ~nd throwing up his heels,2 or Simplicity, blindfolded, charging at a post with his torch. 3 These traces become rarer in the later plays, though they still occur, as in IfYOll know not me, you know .1Yobody, where the clown pulls away Beningfield's chair, remarking, ' God's pity, I think YOll are down '. But that there was a great deal of buffoonery which is not represented in the plays is clear frolll con­temporary accounts, two of which have already been quoted-one concerning the Vice and the other concerning the clown. 1.'he , SCUlTY faces' mentio!led in the latter seem to have been particularly popular. Simon in The lJfayor of Queenbo]'oZlgh objects that the players' clown is ' too 'fair, i'faith, to make the people laugh ..• he will never look half scurvily enough'. A fuller account of the fool's tricks occurs in the Praeludiulll to Goffe's Careless Shepherdess:

Landlord . ••. Fave laughed Un till I cry'd again to see what Faces 1.~he Rogue will make: 0 it does me good 'fa see him hold out's chin, hang down his hands, Aud twirle his Bauble. There is nere a part About him but breaks jests. I heard a fellow Once on this stage cry Doodle, Doodle, Dooe, Beyond compare.4

Similarly, 2UJ1~ clown's_ dancing Eut few !race~r~~llai!l i!lthe plays, but cont~mporary references show that dances accompanied by the Eipe and tabor were sometimes given between the acts, and also

1 Simpson, School of Shakespeare, vol. i, p. 281. 2 Triall of' Treasure, Dodsley, iii, p. ~i9. 3 Tlo"/!e Lords find Three Llldie.<i, Dodsley, vi, p. 501. 4 Cf. JIm·till's .Mullth'8 Nilld for acconnt of the stage fool's tricks.

SU.:\D[AH Y OF CI L\lL\C'l'EHISTICS oi

formed -an -important l~art of the concluding jig,l Kelllp's fam(Jus Illorris-danct' from Londo\} to N OI'wich provt's him to han' oeell all

expert performer. In thc extant plays, Slipper is thc only clown who is represented as dancing with the definitc purpose of gi\'ing entertainment (though one or two others takc part ill danccs ill the course of the play). In thc introductory sccne hc and his brother the dwarf' dance a gig devised for the non~! " and when his father again: calls upon him he enters' with a compallion, boy or wench!~ -d dancing a hOl'llpipc'. ~~

But '}'itILri'gacl.to the songs which were so illlv_ortan~ element ./'" in the clown's role, thcre is no _~_uch--.lu~k_Qf crldence, fOl' bcsidcs""" J I~ forming part of the inter-scenar~ c_~I!t;llldillg cntcrtainments, they were frequently interspersed in th~_vlay~ th~lllseh'es, and hence the record at least has sllr\·jycd. rrhis is notably the case with Vices, \'cry few of wholll do not at least propose a song, e\'ell if it is not gi\·en. _N~iz.lhc.thau.-foo: < such an atmosphere of music to_a playas Feste ~i"es to TwelfUt lYipht, ~several of thcm are lll!!!kedly lllusical. .simplicit)~particular, seems ~~~e_e_dillgly.1Qnd of Illusic, and is undoubtcdly a good singe....!', iQr.-WhcIL he_joins forces with the beggars he earns twice ,~s much by his songs as thcy do, r-~ One spccimen of his songs may be gi\'en :

Silllplicity sings it, and 'spcricllce doth prove, No biding ill Londo)) for COllscicnce and Lore,

The country hath no peer, "There Consciencc cOllies not once a year,

And Love so welcome to every toWJl,

As wind that blows thc houses down. Sing down adowll, down, down, down. Simplicity sings it, and 'speriencc doth pro\'(', No dwelling in London, Jll) bidillg in LOlHlon, for Conscicnce

aJld Lo\'e.

And though the only complete sOllg which wc hear frol11 Pompey is unspeakahly coarse, he too seems to be a lover of lllusic, fOl' he\ t appeals to the' merry lord) Valerius to give one of his songs for his )--

special bcnefit.2 ~par~JrQ!n the cloWJls who sillg whole sougs~ there \ I a~ly_()thcrs ,y.ho-,Jik __ ~ear's fool, freqll~lltly breakinto ,fI'agmcnts I

.of hallads, suggcsted by sOJne remark OJ' passlllg evell.!.z.. ( <is fooles were \\:'Qnt~,_ atLa-1it;llg~direction to The LOllfJeI' thaI/., Lil:~st tlie more FooL t!u-!..'lI:......!!:J.·t informs us. T!lOUgh the trick is nowhcrc so effecti\'ely

j H.sed as in Lear, it is ~~1ll~1\. Bal'llahe BUllch's snaps of b~mt(ls,3 suggested hy illcidcnts which he witnesses, have already been

1 ~l'e IJIll/li If''lItzl'rii Itinerl/ri'l/II (.'erlllfLllia', Allylirl', Itlllie,', ,~c,

2 HfLjle 11' ',w'rcer, ii. !i, 3 W"lIkest guetlt lu tlte Wull, ~(', ii.

E ~

oS THE FOOL I~ THE ELIZABETI-IA~ DHAi\1A

lllClltioIlCd; alld 1\1 lleh 1 too breaks illto song in the midst of his speech to the king-' ~I lIch is my father, and he is olle of your tellllllts, ill Killg's ~Iill at 'Yakefiehl, all Oil a grcell :

o there dwelleth a jolly pinder, At 'Yakcfield, all Oil a green!

I But song§_jtl)c)..-JIallceu~..J~ Xllle~~ath~r ilLthe na91ruf i~ter­

ludes than integral varts_lLf JhUIay. 'Vhat amuse~cnt, then, did the clown prodde for th~~ldience dl!!illg the progress of the action? It mustbe remembered that_ th~ool more than any other performer

,." J ~rhis aud!ence continu,!lJ.y in view. Other ~cto~lig]lt_ fQrget_ the '" f. 's~c~ttors il~eil" l'ole~J. bu~ the ~ol~ of ~e clgwn was to ~member them

and keep them entertained. Often, especially in the case of the later Vices;,ve find direct appeals to particular members of the audience, Nichol N ewfangle 2 being particula.rly remarkable in this respect. His appeals are many aIHI bold-' How say you, little ~leg ?' or:

How say you, \vomun? You that stand in the angle, 'Yere you ne\'er acquainted with Nichol N ewfangle ?

Simplicity too, refers to various spectators, including a fellow 'tl~lt gapes to bite me, or else to eat that which I sing'; and the absence of such appeals from the parts of later clowns probably only implies that the more experienced actors could be trusted to supply them for themselves.

Among the clown's mirth-provoking devices, ,n~nsense of all descriptions figures largely. Sometimes this is Sil!lp)Y __ Un11leaning l:ubbish, possibly an abs~rd questiQI~u~~ha~vhich ~Iiscl~ef addresses to ~f erc)~

I prey yow this question to claryfye: Driffe-draff, mysse-masche, Sume was corll, and snme was chaffe; ~ly dame seyde my llame was Raffe;

Or-schett yower lokke, and take an halpenye.3

Sometimes this nonsen~ takes theJonlLof~_ string _of ..ContradiGtioIlS,­SHch as ~10use's descriptiOl~f 1fucedor!lugiven to M!lccdorus him­se1£)-' A was a little, low,_ broad, tall, narrow, big, well-favoured fellow '-much in the style of the fool ol~he ~1ul11m~rs' plays. A less crude variety is the extravagant ex~ssion_of..1i_~me_ ~1!9tiqn,doubtless it cluu·acteristic of the;wtural fool. Sufficient ~lOtations from tile. down's love-speeches hm:e- rureaoy .-l>J~_en -grvl~lL;_bllt_ he is fully

1 VOtcriflllt of Robert, Earl of Hllntingdon. 2 Like will to Like. 3 .. lIllltkind, eu. Furni\'all anu Pollaru, JJacro Plays, p. :3.

SU~L\[AHY OF CIl..:\HACTEHISTIC~ GD

as ridi~lIlous in sorrow as in Ion'. ]~oth Yices and clowns cOlltillllally Wl:.£J.l or threaten to do so, and the clowns in particular often incllllge in e:xtrayagant laments. These are absurd eyen whell sillcere, as is Pipkm'R'l,lluent for his mistress: 0 mistress! a I-IlIgh! 0 II ugh! o mistress! Hugh, I must needs beat thee; I am lllad! I alll lunatic! I mnst fall lipan thee: my mistress is dead! (BealS flugh) '. And of the mock lament Simkin's is a fair sample: (0 Illy master! my master! what shall I do for my poor master? the kind churl is departed! neyer did poor hard-hearted wretch pass out of the world so like a lamb! alas! for my poor, mmring, extortioning master! many an old widow hast thou turned into the street, and lllany all orphan made beg their bread! Oh, my sweet, cruel, kind, pitiless, loving, hard-hearted master! he's dead; he's dead; he's gone; he's fled; and now full low must lie his head! Oh, my sweet, vile, kind"'--'J . r---flinty, mild, uncharitable master!' lather clowns tell absurd

anecdotes, or gi\'e comic accounts of misadventures, as does ~Iouse I of his encounter with the bear.

Nonsense of another kind~~_ fouIHt in the_1ll2ck prophecies often utter~d ~I_Jh~low~ter the mann~r of Lear's fool. These are paralleled to some extent in the strings of impossible things_ which the fools of the ~~'s som.ctim~clniDLJ(l have_ seen. Haphazard prO\'ides an early example of the prop}wcy :

1Vhen gain is 110 grandsire, And gauds llought set hy;

Nor puddings nor pie-meat Poor knaves will come nigh,

Then hap amI Haphazard Shall have a new coat,

Anel so it may happen To cut cm'etousness' throat.

Yea, tlH'n shall Judge Appius Virginia obtain,

.\nd geese shall crack mussels Perhaps ill the raill;

Larks shall he I(,Y(,I"C'ts , And ski p to aJld fro;

And <;hurls shall he eods-heads, Perhaps ami also.' 2

Some satire is often implied ill these prophecies, as ill Lear. 'rhlls F rog vows fidelity to DOllce until the-tTme :

1Yhen tinkers leave to drinke good ale, And sOllldicrs of t}wil' weapolls faile,

1 Cf. Tromhart's lament in I,orrillr.

2 Ap/d1l8 fill" ' "ir!lilli(f .. Jlod sll'Y , i,·, p. 1:-;0.

70 TIlE FOOL I~ TIlE ELIZABETIL\N DHA:\L\

"~hell pedlcrs go without there pack, AmI water is more deare than sack, 'Yhrn shoemakers drink that is small, And lawiers have no tongues at all. l

.A rather similar type of nonsense speech is a mock 'bill' or pro­clamation, an amusing example being Slipper's' bill '-' If any gentle­man, spirituall or temporall, will entertaine out of his service a young stripling of the age of thirty yeal'es, that can sleep lrith the soundest, I

eate with the hungriest, work with the sickest, lye with the lowdest, face with the proudest, &c., that can wait in a gentleman's chamber when his maister is a myle of, keepe his stable when tis emptie, and ' his purse when tis full, and hath many qualities worse than all these, let him write his name and goe his way, and attendance shall be giyen '. An example of the proclamation is found as early as the fifteenth century in Colle's ambiguous description of his master's

~'vers.2 DlP sllbject Of--l2r..oclamatieHs-l)l~ings-llUCL.!·ulOther point-:Jh~ _:

clown's delight in perversions and p-retended misunderstaILdiDg~ . ...... The perversion of a dictated address or a procl<!-mation which he is ordered t~=-=.,~favourite devic~Qf th~sJown throughout his career. The later Vices proyide_scre.raLexalllples,-the 1110St_ quotable b~~khol Nen'fangle's perversion of the address dictated by Lucifer: 3

Luc{fer. All hail, 0 noble prince of hell! N. N. All my dame's cmvs' tails fell down 111 the well.

L. I will exalt thee above the clouds. N. N. I will salt thee, and hang thee in the shrouds.

L. Thou art the enhancer of mv renown. N. }l. Thou art Hance, the hangm;n of Calais town.

And at the end of the clown's career this device still appears, as when Simkin is set by the pursuivant to make a proclamation I

offering a reward to anyone' that can bring in these pirates' ships or heads', which he renders as 'that can bring in these pie-crusts or I

sheep's heads'. ~nders-taJJllings are a part of the common stoc.kdn-tr.ad~f t~

clown. 'Yith the stupider_ !Jl?~ of clown these blunders are uninten­tional. Thus nI nch, when told by his nli~~~r _t~ l11ilk~a cry', immediately begins to lamf'nt alld roar, 'Help, help, help! I am undone, I am undone!' ~I uch more common, however, are inten­tional blunders. To pretend tomisunderstand a simple remark or order,

1 Fair },fnid of BristOlI'. · 2 Ploy of the SncramclIt. ~ce aboye, p. 26. 3 Cf. Sin in Al!for .J1fJnc.1J and TdleuC'ss in Wit and Wisr/fJlII.

SU~Dl.AHY OF CHAHACTEHISTICS 71

or to play at cross-purposes with ~\I) intel'loclltor, is the dowll's great delight. Cricket, whell ord(lred to brillg sack, illljllin.'s, '",Yould YOll

havc a sack, sir?' and when Gripcs rcplies tlllgrily, ' Away, fool; • a cup of sack to drillk " explaills, '0, I had tho1lght you \\'01l1d iIa"e had it sack to h:n'c put this law-cracking cog-foist ill, instcad of a pair of stocks '.1 In Robin's sparring with Ilforu and his cOlllpalliolls, thc dedce of quibhlillg and pretended misunderstandillg is 1l101'C suhtly claboratcd.~ ~Iistlllderstalldillgs of a cruder type arc foulld in sccnes between cloWJls alld fOl'E'igners, such as Bamabe ilullch's cOII\'ersation with Yacob thc Flellling.3

Anothcr ty~c of bl!lIHlcr S.OI.!.l~!iIllCS c.qmlllittcd by thc clown is V a srfi) of the tongue. Here l~'2- thcrc are both rcal and prctended ~ullders)b~t tl~;"~ the first class predominatcs. Slips of the tongue appcar first in thc rulcs of the stupidE'l' Viccs sllch as AduIa-tion,4 who forget their parts, and e,'cn c1e"crer latcr Viccs ha,'c occasional lapses. In the roles of thc regular clown neither typc appears of tell. An example of the intelltional slip is Simkin's reference to his mastcr as a 'most tyr;ulllical old f01"llicator-0l<l

master, I would say'. Somcwhat akin to tilt' pretended slip is the ambiguolls remark that suggests lIlI illsult hut can bc illteq>reted harmlessly. Clcm is all ('xpert ill this art.

Clem" You lie, sir. R071ghman. How! lie! Clem. Yes, sir, at thc Rayell ill the High Strect, I WlIS at your

lodging this 1ll0rIlillg for a pottle pot.

lt is impossiblc to dassify c<.?mi<:~vices '"L~~ordillg J..Q thc differcnt !)])es of fools, Si~lCC the majori!y- of thcm are COlllmon to all classes, but tl!.~r~ i.§. Qne set wh~ch belollgs 011 thc whole) though hy no means in~ril~' rather ill-the_ subtler and more highly deyc10ped characters. r~ools l1SuallyJl~e a high 9..l2inioll qf their OWII importance and qualitie~ ~rllis <jll!.l"lt..ctC1j§tic is probably partly dcrin~d from tile

court fool) whose .i!nportance was generally acklHndedged; and tli(lrc i:. ~l._~gestion.J)fjt,_too,jll thQ speeches of thosc Vices who hoa~t of their pr~'alen~~and power. Thus Stnlllluo descrihes himself ill his love-letter as 'a gentleman of good fame allll ll:J.llle, lllaiesticitll, in parcll comely, ill gate portlie', alld so 011; :tll.d Clem in the days (If his prosperity at Fez goes so far as to adopt the royal' wc' :

J lVily 1/('9"i/('d, DOI} sley, ix , 1'. :!:l!l. 2 \\rilkiIlS, ..IliNcri('s of EI(/ilJ'f"Ct/ Jfllrrill!}c , J\t·t I. !I Th(' Wellkl'st !Jodit tn tlw Wo /l, :-;.'. i\' , ·1 HCilfI"blic(l , cd. ;\Iaglllls, I~·. I':. T. s., p. l!l .

I

THE FOOL IN TIlE ELIZABETHAN nRA:\lA

"~here be my Bashawes? usher lIS in statC', An(} when we sit to banquct see you waite.

1\lorC'O\'C'1", the fool oft.en, jJlsi~~s_ on his O\\R wisd~m, _~)ecially as contrasted \riththe folly of others-a vcry f~'n'ollrite joke. Some-

__ --,. timcs tricld~a is e\'idC'ntly a delusion, as when Simplicity advises Fraud to 'take a wisc fellow's connsei '. But other remarks are olH'iOllsk illteIH~c~.Li!L1c.§t. Haunce lamC'nt;'~ '0 wl;;t a pitifull case is this! "That might I h,we donc with this wit if my friends had bestowed learning upon me? ,\Yell, when all's done, a natul'all gift is worth all'; and Robin 1 brings ont the contrast between himself and Ilford and his friends by retorting to tl:e comment 'This is a philosophical fool', 'Then I, that am a fool by art, am better than you, that are fools by nature'. I! is almost unnecessary to add that this ide.a is llsed constantly by Shakespeare's_fo_ols, who ilevelQP its l;~ssibilities to the utmost.

Robin also provides an example of another fm'ourite trick-that of arguing and chopping logic, in the manner of Touchstone. 'Vhen Ilford grows impatient with his replies, this dialogue ensues:

I{fO'J'd. "That am I the better for thy answer? CI. ,\Yhat am I the better for thy question? I(t: 'Vhy, nothing. CI. 'Yhy, then, of nothing comes nothing.

Sir Sidney Lee has pointed out tlutt Larivey's influence is probably largely responsible for the introduction of whimsical quibbling and chop-logic into the speech of the English clown, since it was from him that Lyly, probably the first to naturalize the fashion in England, seems to have derived it. Some of the clowns' dispntations hlwe more than a suspicion of parody of the school men, and this quality is still more marked in their frequent mock-learned dissertations on varions subjects. These, as has already been mentioned, undoubtedly owe much to the 'sermons joyeux', in which the Fool-Societies parodied both the offices of the Church and the rhetoric of the schools. It is the latter which is the more frequently tra\'estied in the discourses of the fools. l.'he most formal of these orations is the' argument in the defence of drunkennes' pronounced by Bosse in Every 1Voman in her Humour (too long to quote) in which he proves that drunkenness is a virtue and that it 'ingcnde;s with two of the 111orra11 virtues, and six of the lyberall sciences'. But there are also a host of shorter speeches of the same nature, such as Pompey's account of ale:

: JJi~icric.y nf Ell}'orrerl Jlarriagc, Act 1.

SU:\DIAI{Y OF CIL\IL\CTEIUS'1'ICS

Pomp, Is it not strange, my lord, that so lIlallY I\lCII lon' ale that know lIot what ale is?

roll. 'Yin'. what is alc ? POIIII" 'YI;y, ale is a killd of juice made of the tU'eeiolls grain

callrd malt; and what is malt? ~lalt 's ~l A L T: aIHI what is ~I ~\ L T? :\1 mllch, A al(', L little, T thrift: that is, milch all', litt Ie thrift. 1

Sometimes these discoursrs take the form of ingenious comparisons, as when Slipper proves the resemblance between a ,,"oman alld

~ors('. \ --"':::::::SCntelltiousness of anotlwr kind appears in the Illoral speeches

in which the fools not infrequently indulge. Cricket moralizes on money,2 and Baunce 011 the untrustworthiness of lllankind,3 and

--Firestone on drunkards: 'How apt and ready is a drunkard now to reel to the de"il ! '4 Here again one is reminded of that most senten­tious of fools, TOllchstone.

/

In Illany of the speeches included undel' the aboye heads, another clement appears-that of_~c, which) as was shown ill an earlier chapter, was nlso probahly bequeathed to the stage clown by the Fool-Societies. III the Yice, as was natural, considering the III Ol'a I purpose of the plays in which he appears, satire is particularly prominent-indeed) the Vice is perhaps most to be esteemed as a satlrlst. I T1 their accounts of their travels, sllch characters as Folly ill The TVorid and the Child imply the pl'enllence of their particular vice in all classes of society, and Courage in Tide larrieth no JIlln gi,'cs us a list of the occupants of his' Barge of Sin', aftcr thc manner of thc Ship of Fools. And again and agaill the Church recel,'es a shrewd hit in the ~Ioralities, sometimcs in the ,'ery moral of the play, sometime~ ill an incidental remark, such a~ Infidelity's slap at the friars:

Lyke obstinate Friers I tcmper my looke, \Vhich had Ol1e eie on a wCl1eh, alld allot her 011 a boke,li

Occasionally thc Vice's satire is political, as in King Darius. Bcsid('s these deeper kinds of satirc, there is a lighter and more purposeless variety, usually directcd, according to imlllemorial clIstom, agaillst women. Rc\'cTlge, whell dismissed from IJorest('s-'s service, allTlOllIlCeS

intention of bctakillg himself to women, since they arc usually

1 Hape of I,ucrccc, ii. 1. Wily /lc!Jlliler/, DorIslcy, ix, p, ~4A.

3 Wi,w/flnt of /Jr, jJor/.'/IJo/l, ell. Bullen, Old HII!Jlish l'Iil!l'~' \"Ill. iii , p, lUI, 4 l\1irlrllcLoII, The Witch, i. ~,

5 \ \' ag-cr, HI'prllf(lIIf'c n( Jlrll'y J/"flr/alcl/(' , crI, ( ';lrpCnlcl' .. p, :3 1.

7 ,~ TIlE FOOL I~ TIlE ELIZABETI-IAN DHA?\L\

kind to him, beillg' 'for thc most part ... borne malitious '. It is this lighter kind that is most popular with the regular clowns, except in plays likc 1.Yobody alld Somebody which arc in themsclycs satirical. The allcient gibes at women continually recur. Thus Ralph Simnell consents to ha\'c Elinor of Castile for his mistress if

, shee will neyer scold with Ned or fight with mc. - Sirah Harry, I ha\'c put her do.wne with a thing impossible.

Henry. "'hat's that, Raphe? Ralph. 'Yhy, Harry, didst thou e\'er sec that a woman could

both hold her tongue and her hands? ]

The most definite and elaborate_ social satire srJoken by a clown in any play apart from Shakespeare's is Pompey's court, camp, city,

\.. and country 'ne~v~~, which is much too long to quote. 2 But though r;- the plays tl~emseh'es satire of the more bitter kind is usually absent, it undoubtedly formed a part of the clown's role. The jigs, judging from the little that we know of them, seem to have been largely topical and satirical. There is evidence to show that Kemp participated in the attack on '~Iartin ~Iarprelate', and that he and his fellow-clowns did much to embitter the Puritans and the cidc authorities against the stage. ~ Tarlton's jig, A Horse-load ~l Fools, includes an unflattering portrait of a Puritan Goose-son (GOSSOll) :

Squeaking, gibbering, of everie degree; A most notorious pied balde foole. For sure a hippocrite; Of a "erie numerous familie.

Attacks of this kind were d'oubtless partly responsible for the issuing in 1612 of an order suppressing all ' Jigges, Rymes and Daunces' at the end of plays.

Nothing has been said in these 110tes of the ordinary repartee which plays so prominent a part in the clown's role, since that point was sufficiently illustrated in the last chapter. The fool carried on this play of wits not only with the other characters, but often also, as we learn from contemporary references, with the spectators themselves. Sometimes these contests are carried 011 in rime, as when 'Yill Summers matches his wit ctgainst 'Yolsey's :

TVols. The bells hang high, And loud they cry. 'Vhat do they speak?

I Friar Baron alld Friar Bllngay (Represelltatire Comedies, i, p. 480). 2 Rape of Lucrel'f', ii. 1. 3 ~ee E. N. S. Thompson, The COII[rol'er.~y hc[u'cel! [he Puri[fllls alld the S:[({ge.

SU:\DIAHY OF CIIAIL\CTEnISTIC~ 75

1 rill. If YOU should die, Th~rc 's 1I0lle would cry, Though yOUl" lIeck should break. l

It apI~ar~.l t02L that the fool sometimes retorted ill rime to the r~~'n~;~'ks of the spectators, and it is c1ear that the extemporizing of \. H'~'ses Oil subjects ghell by the audience was one form of the jig.

The· subject of rime introduces another point~.t.beJ.ill!gl!ag<; ()~ the. 1(-' S £lo,,"n. This naturally ~iessonsidcrably with different ty~s of c10WIl.l. but certain general characteristics may he poilltecl out. The medium ~ 'i is always prose or rime, whate\"cr that of the principal part of the play m~_~-On the whole th~ Vices tend to speak ill rime and the rc~u~al' clmnls i'~ro~. No rule can be prm'ed to have existed for the differclltiation of th~ "crs~Bpokell by the Vice from that of the other characters in those. plays whi~h G.<)l)sist entirely of rough rime, thoug-h there arc occasional traces of sllch differentiation. Puttellham referred to the use of rime 'both in the' end and middle of a \'erse' as being' commonly more comlllodiously uttered by these buffoolls or vices in playes than by any other person', but this ntriety of metre doe~ not occur often enough to be eOllsidered really characteristic of the Vice. Nash points O{lt a more constallt quality of the Vice's style whell he characterizes it as being' as right up and downe as Illay be', 2 for 'up and dowll' it uIl(loubtedly is, as a general rule. It is true that the same may be said of other Morality charactel's of it very different type, but the Vice (especially, perhaps, the later Vict') appears to have a special predilcctioll for H'rse of this killd. Hap-hazard exhibits this tendency in a marked degree. IIis prophecy, quoted above, is an unusually regular example; but the same pl'illciple goveflls all the ,'erse of his part:

Then charge you the father his daughter to bring; Theil do you detain her, till proved be that thing: "Thich well you may win her, she presellt ill hOllse. It is but haphazard, a man 01' a mouse.

The serious characters in Appius and Virginia almost im'ariably usc the popular' fourtecllcr' line.

In the earlier ~[oralities there are fewer traces of differentiation ill metrc. As a rule Vices and VirtlIes alike llse short, rough rime. perhaps the most characteristic tendellcy of these Vices is to break into stallZ<lS, as does IIypocrisy:

1 ){owh.y, lI'hell .'I'm N('C 11/(' .1/011 kl101I' 1//(' .

:! StrllllrJr XCII'S of illtcr('('jllill!1 ('('rlllill I.t'/It 'r s (1 :,)!)2)

-, ),

7(; TIlE FOOL I:\, TIlE ELIZABETHAN DHA~lA

~ I ethough t hy your face, Ere you came in place, I t should he you: Therefore I did abide Here i 11 this tide FOI· your coming, it is tru(,.1

Short rime appcarR still in Moralities of a lat('r <latC' as a fanmritc metre \yith the Vice. On the whole, though by no means invariahly, he tends to l1se short metre when talking to the audience or to his confederates, amI longer, more imposing verse in conversation with his dctims.

In style as in other respects Simplicity represents a transitional stage. In The Three Ladies of London he speaks in~', but in the sequel, written six years later, his {ordillary medium is ErQse, though he~n;etimes breaks into( rill1~. "These-- occasional snatches of yer~~ ar~a~istic of the 'croWn. He uses it fl·equently in his nonsense pa~ages, _ especially loye-n~ptures and laments. Speci­mens of the former ha"e already been quoted,2 amI of the latter Trombart's lament o,'er Strumbo may be taken as typical:

And is my master dead? o sticks and stones, brickbats and bones, and is my master dead? o you cockatrices and YOll bablatrices that ill the woods dwell: Yoi} briers and brambles, you cookes shoppes and shambles, come

howle and yell. 'Yith howling and screeking, with wailing and weeping, come you

to lament,

~o colliers of Croydon, and rusticks of Royden, and fishers of Kent.

I EEophecies too arLalwa):§. .. in -litILe..-usually in short couplets, as is

, Frog's address to Douce, already quoted, or that of Lear's fool! And in addition to these common uses of rime, and the riming contests alld extemporized verses mentioned in the last section, fragments of verse are scattered promiscuously throughout the clowns' parts. Thus Strulllbo after describing the burning of his house in his usual prose breaks into a kind of stallza:

'-__ Alld that which grieves me most, Jly loying wife (0 crnel strife!)

The wicked flames did roast. And therefore, Captain Crust,

"\Ye will continually cry Except you seek a remedy, OUl· houses to re-edify,

'Yhich ]10\" are bUl"Ilt to dust.

l Cf. Trotter and Cricket.

SUi\E\L-\.HY OF CIIAHACTEHISTICS 77

~I lH.:h, 011 thc other hand, onec begills to speak ill verse hut n'\'('rts to prose, remarking' I'll speak in proSt', 1 miss this verse vill'ly '.

Some of tile HTses found in the plays arc curiolls llIixturt's of English a])(l Latill. The earliest specimens of these llIacarollic l'illH's in the drama occur in the .i\Ioralitics. Infidclity rccites or challts :

'Yith heigh down down, and <lo\\'ne a dowll a, Saluator nHIIHli Domine, K vri clerson,

ltc, .i\lissa est, "Tith pipc lip Aileluya: Sed libera nos a malo, and so let liS he at one. 1

Thcre are not lllUllY specilllens ill the later drama, but Miles the scholar speaks throughout a whole scene ill such vcrse as the following:

And I with scientia and grcat diligentia, 'Yill conjure and charme, to kcepe you from hanne; That utrulll horulll maris, your ,'cry great navis, Like Bartlet's ship, from Oxford cJo skip 'Yith colleges awl schooles, full load en with fooles. Quid dicis ad hoc, worshipfull Domine Dawcocke?

and the scene at .:\Iaster Amilladab's school is a similar medley.!! ~Iock declcnsions also scem popular. SClllllbroth's rillled 'declen­sion of a gallant' is un(}uotable, but Simplicity's prose declension lllay be givcn :

( 0, singulariter nominati,'o, wise Lord Plcasure: genitin), bind him to that post: datiro, gi"e me my torch: accusati,'o, for I say he's a cosener: vocativo; 0, gire mc roolll to l'lm at him: abla-tivo, take ,1IId blind me. PIlll'aliter per onllles caSllS, \

Laugh all you to see me, in my choler adust, '7/ To bum and to broil that false Fraud to dust '. v(/

For Latill tingcs thc clowll's prose evell more thall his "crse. Then' is h,~rdly it Vicc 01' fool_of eyell the crtlde~ alld lllost~ttlpid type who docs IlOt introduce at least one Latill quotatioll illto his specches­tlsua.Dr ~l m is(luotatiOlLin thc casc of thc clown. Scraps of eh urch­Latin alld law-Latill predolllinatc-'Xolllinlls patms', 'hahis corpus', and the like.

Allother fairly constant characteristic of the clown's spccch is l1is lIse of pro-"cr~ c=9?!cssiolls-solllctimcs Latil~ proverbs ill the ease of more lcarned clowns or Vices, but lllorc oftcn popular sayings, gleaned frolll the COllllllon speech of the people. Amollg the "ices, Hc-;cnge is particlilarly lIoticeable for his use or such saws as ,; Good slepinge ill a hole skYlllle'. So, too, CIt'Ill the clowll supports

1 RepenlUlu'c of .Vllry J/llgdll/I'lIC. Cf, mac':!rollk letter i1l J/III/kind (J/Ilcru

Plays, 1" 25). 2 1I0u' to choose Il Good lVifefl'o/ll Il l1ad, ii. I.

78 TI-IE FOOL IN TIlE ELIZABETHAN DHAl\IA

'If ~t suggestion with thc old provcrh, ' \Yhat thcy want ill meat let them V Us..c out ill drink',

~ But in ~pite of thesc common characteristics thcre are t\\'o distinct f .!.)]~e~u)Wo_"2!Jallg~age-thc rl1de but often vigorous vernacular and

~~~lllcliloq!:1~lt strl~ It must be remembered, however, that ~~~'~I~ cal~lOt be eIassifled according to ~~il' speech) fOt, many of

\ t~~ll~_bothJ"i~Hls illlpartial1y~ suiting thcir . lang_uage to their companions, In the first type pron'rbs arc particularly commOIl,

. and thel'c is often an abundance of racy idiom. An early fore-shadowing of this style is that of the minor Vices of fll ankind, already noticed, Perversion of words or of wholc sentences is frequent ill the language of such clowns as l\10use, who refers to a hcrmit as 'an emmet ',-though this occurs too as an absurd COIl­

trast to the grandiloquence or would-be grandiloquence of more imposing clowns, such as Slipper or Turnop, Rustic dialect appcars at times, and in the case of Tavie in Club Law and Jockey in Edward IV much of the humour of the characters depends upon their very marked 'Yelsh and Scotch accents. In the earlier plays language of this rougher type is often dull and conunonplace enough, but when llsed by dramatists of g,'eater skill and experience it becomes very effective, and well-adapted to the essentially nati,'e and popular character of the clown.

:Much more ambitions is the other type of speech-:a pompous, artificiD.l..§.t~h~~lightinR-ill __ imp~~QK wqrds and flov~'~ry-ph.rase.s. This char'acteristic has already been noticed in regard to Fiddle, and many of his brother clowns show the same propensity to use the most elaborate expressions which they can devise. Thus Taber when about to fetch drink remarks, ' I will first acquaint your lips with the virtue of the cellar'. Connected with this delight in elabomte phrases is the clown's predilection for a roundabout, riddling manner of speech. Guatto describes his mistress's playing on the lute as 'making wood speake and guts sing '/ and Simkin announces his intention of cleaning out the hen-house in SUC!l enigmatical language that his interlocutor is quite unable to understand him.2 Sometimes in the elegant speeches of the clown there is distinct imitation of Euphuism, already noticed with reference to Strumbo. Learned allusions (accurate or otherwise) are someti mes introduced, snch as Strulllbo'~ to Diana and Actaeoll-' Ah, Strumbo, what hast thou seell, not Dina with the Asse Tom? '-and technical terms are also

1 A Knack to ]{1/0W an Honest .Jian, 11. 88-94 (Malone Society), :.! Purtune fly Land and Sea, ii. 1.

SU~Il\I.AH Y OF ClIAIL\CTEHISTICS 7U

employed, usually absurdly, as ill Scumbroth's astl'OlIolllical jal'g-fllI,l

Occasionally the c10WJl quotcs frolll othel' play~, as does ClclIl frolll Jeronimo:

'Yhcl1 this ct£'l'nal substance of Ill" sOlll Did li,'c imprisolled in this wanto,; Ileslt, I ",as a cO\lltier in the court of Fez,

Another characteristic of the elegant style is !hG loyc._ot repetition. \., $()metil.ll~ word is rcpe,~ted with ,'ariations, as in the qnotatioll from Tul'llop ill-tile last chapter. ~Ior~lIently a S~ri!lg of prac-=_ tiea]]y sY.!l9!!YJUoIlS \\'Qnl~j~in the manner of 'l'0\lChstolle,2 as 1Il Fl'og's summoning of the guests:

'1'0 make a step, to walke, or as it wcre to Comc, 01' approach, to dillller.

Frog exelllplifies another ,'ariety of repetition also relllllllsccnt of 'l'ouchstolle-repetition of the llame of tlIe person addressed-ill bis speech to Doncc beginning:

'Yhy Douce. this day of wedlock, Douce, 'l'his day of going together, Douce.

/

,The clowll loxes.. tiliLto_harp or-jest OIl hisJ)wn llame if it is a suitable subject for j(~ke..& as it very frequelltly is. Fiddle ",hen called hy his master retorts-( Here's a Hdlillg indeed, I thinke your tongue he

made of nothing but fhldle strings, I hope thc fiddle must hare some l rest as well as the fiddle-sticke: well, Crowde; what say YOIl to Fiddle now?' It may be noticed that here as often the clown speaks of himself in the thinl person. This repetition of his Ilame the fool

probably (leri\'cd largely from such Vices as Haphazard, who harp contillually on their namcs and theil' l1lpallings,

From the Vice, too, the clowll probably illiJerited another character- --J istic of his style, the }requent use of alliteration. The Vice employs this trick continually, particularly ill his accounts of his tr:l\'els, which are usually 10llg lists of alliteratillg ll:UllCB. Such is ~Iery Itepol't's beginning:

At LOllvain, at LOlldon and ill Lombardy, At Baldock, at Btlrfold, aBel ill ilarbary.

Of the regular clowns the most notcworthy ill this r('speet is th(' clown in Love's J.llisil·ess. 3 Ill' sums up the mcrits of the poets ill alliterative phrases, alld gives an accollnt of Cupid's qualities which is stl'OlIgly reminiscent of Berowllc's outblll'st Oil the same subject-l-

1 Dekker, Work~, iii, I'l" 311-12. :s Heywood, Works, v.

2 Cf, As rlill Uk,' It, \', 1. 4 1.11/' /;,\' 1.1I6uII r' .... Lust, iii, 1.

SO TIlE FOOL I~ TIlE ELIZABETHAN DHA~IA

' I gire you his stile ill Folio: lIee is King of cares, cogitatioIls, allll coxcolllbcs; Vice-roy of vowes awl vanities; Prince of passiolls, prate-apaccs, and pickled lovers; Dnke of disasters, dissemblers, and drown'd eyes; IVlarqucsse of melancholIy, and mad-folkes; Grand Signior of griefes and grones; Lord of lamentations, Heroc of hie­hoes, Admil'all of aymees and ~lotlnsie tlr of mutton-lac'd '.

As an illustration of the remaining characteristics of the fool's style which call be noticed here, one quotation from H eywood will ser\'e­Roger's soliloquy at the inn while young Geraldine is reading the letter which he has brought. 1 He begins-' This is Market-day, and heere acquaintance commonly meet; and whom ha,·e I encounter'd ? ~1y gossip Pint-pot, and brim full; nay, I mean to drinke with you before I part, and how doth all your worshipfull kindred? YOUl'

sister Quart, your pater-Pottle (who was ever a Gentleman's fellow) and your old grandsier Gallon; they cannot chuse but be all in health, since so many healthes have been drunk out of them: I could wish them all heere, and in no worse state than I see you are in at this present'. Then Roger <h:inks to his ' gossi P " and makes her pledge him in retul'll, and concludes with' one health to you and all your society in the Cellar, to Peter Pipe, Harry Hogshead, Bartholo­mew Bntt, and little maister Randall Rundlet, to Timothy Taster, and all your other great and small friends'.

j J In the first place, this speech is a good example of the }nonolog~es whic4_ are ~_o p_opular with _the fool. Sometimes, as here, tJ~j~st Qf tht~}Q1lQlogu~J.~Ql1Jy to amuse ; ~ut sometimes, as was indicated

) illa former chapter, the~re of dran~.~tic value, i rl !ha~_ theJ~se!.ve to __

I inform the spectators of t~Erog~ of. !he a~ioJ!, ~2F (notably in the case of the Vice, who habitually reveals his true character in his soliloquies) to put the audience at the right point of view. Often they are dull enough; but often too, especially when the clown gives them dramatic form by addressing some object or imaginary persoll, as _ do Roger and Miles, they reach the level of true comedy. Shakespeare's humorous monologues are unrivalled, but the materials

1 of which they were composed may be found in those of his predecessors \ and contemporaries, and by no means invariably in crude or unworked \ furm. - I

VR~;;PeechalSo';};~ws a ~-;:;l~OUS but common clown-trick-J.he ".\ ll;lhiLoLaddLessing~.~l~j~ of dumb or inanimate_thin~!La~ if they

were human, The same characteristic appears to some extent in Sim­kin' s description of the feast, quoted at the beginning of this chapter,

1 The EJ/g!i.~h Trat'eller, Heywood's lVoi'k.~, i,', p. 58.

SP:\I~IARY OF CIIAHACTEHISTICS HI

and we tiJl(l it :lgaiIl iII Jcnl~in'R account of filldillg' the straIlgc' Il(mH's,l

or Ho(}lre's 1>ll1H>(r\'ric Oil tht, "ood-natlJre of the dust ~ __ :-- o. ~ ' --:---'

It is hardly Ill'cessary to point out the resl'lIlhlalll'C l)('tW('I'1l i{og"( 'r's iIlquiries after 'g"os~ip Pint-pot's' family and Bott()IIl's ill quiries "f( 'I' Pcase-blossolll's I'l'lath'c~; hut. olle 1Il00'(' poillt Illay bc lIotic('cl ill this l'()llnpxi()n-th~ dOWJl's 100'c of givillg nick-nallll's, pn,fer;d)ly I allitemtin', aftC'1' the st):fCOF'Petl'lPipc' ,lJid t lraii<lalTRuiimrr-in-+­this passage, This trick seems to han' originated in the Vice's habit of bllrling del'isi,'e amI often abusive epithets at his OPP()lICllts­'Pl'tel' Blowbo\\'le', "1~0111 Narl'()\\'lIosC', 'Nicol-Noddy', alld 111t,'

like, Sometinll's he l'xtends these fa\'ollrR to the' audielH.'C', as wben Nicbol N ewfangle nddresses a spcetatOl' as ' 'Vat 'VaghaltPI".

'rhis description of the characteristics of the stagl~ fool would not

be complete without ~(2.!.~..ill'col1n,t of hi~ dJ'(~!U, but t~llrri\'e at any '/ ;~fillite conclusions Oil ~his Eoint i~ 110 easy task. The nature of tht' Vice's dress is particularly doubtful. III many plays there is 110

melltioll of it, and references ill other works arC' ll)ostly too late to he of any sen-icc in rcgnrd to thc earlier Vices, It is clear that the Vice cannot have constantly worn fool's dress, In order to dccein' his victims he Illust h:n'e been disguised ill part of the play at least, either as n virtue or ns an ordinary gallant of the day. This disg'llis-illg is often expressly mentioned. :~ But what did be wear when appearing in his own character? Galey states that he did 1I0t appc:ll' in reglllntion fool's dress ulltil the last third of the ~ixtcellth ccntury; lllltil thnt period Ill' ",as attired as 'SOllIe typical fool of e,-ery-day life, some social crank '. But here mllst be mentioned oncl' marc Skelton's Vices, Fancy nIH1 Folly, of the nature of whose dres~ there call be no doubt-also Mery Report, whose' light array' offends Jupiter, ~fery Report, it is truc, is not a 'Mornlity Vicc, and Cacurgus and Hardy-Dardy, who also undoubtedly appeared as fools, are not Vices in the ol'dinnry sense of the term. But it is clear that they arc all related to the Vice of the Moralities, and their appl'arallCl' in fool's dress (in the case of ~Iery Report, at all early datl') is suggesth'e. The ollly other ~lorality Vict' who certainly \\'()J'(' 1l1otky i:-; Illjury ill Albion J(nigltt (15G5-G), J IIstice cOlllplains or his

, Iygllt apparail " and he retorts:

'Vhy should ye hylll declllc of lIature fray It, Though a~ w)'sc as ye walde were a Foxtayle Or a cotl' aftcr thl' COlllell IIsagc'?

I GI.'OI'!Ji'-fl-("I'U1}1.' (Am:il'1/l J/ri{islt Dmmfl, i, 1', 447), 2 Porter, 1'u'o Anyry lVomell oj' AMI/yll/II (/(I'III'I':;l'IIll1lil'l' ('UlIlI'djl'~' , i, 1" tal!I),

!I l', g, NI'pel/lmlcl' '1' J[III'Y .1[IIY"II/I.'III',

F

8Q THE FOOL I\," THE ET.IZAnETIIA~ DRAMA

Injury appt'ars to scorn disg-uise; and thp eonfnsion in latCl' references lwtwef'Jl Yiet's alld fools supports the vip\\, that the later Yil'e8 appeared as a rlllt· :u; fools. In The DedI is an A.'I·s, Satan speaks of the time

When eH'ry great man had his Vice stand hy hilll In his long coat, shaking his woodell dagger.

That the VicE' wore the long dress charaeterh,tic of the natural fools is suggested hy otllPr passages, notably ~firth's allusion ill The Staple of .. ,Vews to 'the old ,,-ay ... whell Iniquity camp in like Hokos Pokos, in a jugler's jerkin with false skirts, like the knave of cluhs '. Possihly, therefore, Collier is right in his conjecture that:m entry ill a list of 'Garments for Players', dating from 1516-' a long garment of peces and tyed with reband of hlew satten, cutt '-refers to a sort of motley dress for the Vice, in which case Fanl'y and Folly were not the only Vices of their time to wear some kind of fool's costume.

No more information can be gleaned in regard to the Vice's dress as a whole, hut there are a considerable number of allusiolls, especially in the case of later Vices, to articles of dress which we know from ancient sketches of professional fools (such as those collected hy , Gazeau 1 or the woodcuts in Barclay's Ship of F'ools) to have often, if no always, formed part of their costume. Harsnett 2 refers to ( long Asses' ears " as being characteristic of the Vice, so he mt.!§t frequently l~rQrlLa fool's ~ap. _Hi§. dagger was one of his most important pl·operties. The earliest certain reference to it occllrs in Impatient Poverty (1560), but possibly one is implied in llJankind, nearly a century earlier. In Mankind, too, purses, frequently mentioned by later Vices and fools, figure prominently. Except in the case of Fancy and Cacm'gus there is no definite mention of a bauble, but Nichol Newfangle brings in a '~lla,-c of clu~s_', which, in view of the reference in The Staple q/, Jllews quoted above, may perhaps he assumed to mean the figure of a fool. Perhaps too the 'flap for a flie' for which Sin begs a piece of the dedI's tail 3 may be onf' variety of the flapper poplllar with the fool. The foxtail occasionally worn by Vices and downs has already been noticed in connexioll with the buffoolJ of the folk-plays. The spectacles ,,"om hy Inelination 4

likewise find parallels in the folk-drama-also in :tnciellt. prillts of fools. These scraps of eddence go to pro\'e that the l'ostnme of the Viee was at least partially inflllenced hy that of the professional fool.

1 Les ROlljf'ons. 2 Declaration lif l'.Yregiolls Popi~h Til/post II res. 3 All for .Money, ed. Halliwell, Litel'lltm'I' (!f tht' Sixteellth lIlifl Seren{eelltli

rPlituries 1III1stratt'll, p. 127. ~ Triall of Treasllre, Dodsley, iii , p. 2G9.

Then' is ullcertainty again in rt'gard to the dress ol lIll' Vitl'lOUS

typcs of fool foulld ill the rcgular drama, ll1J.hc absell~(, of ('videllc£', i!.... Ci!J!llot_ be safely aSSllllled th(~ hecause a charade)' is Illldoubtedly

~'~_o.!' <!Qllle~i(:s~llC "ill'~th~ r~gula~ioll lIIotley, £01' it is clear that this ,,"as not always ""OJ'll by the historical fools. 'Yill SllIlllllers's po)'trait slJows him in ol'dillary comt dress; alld though l'lItries ill cOlltemporary accollllt books mentioll fools' coats alld hoods for him ami other jest('rs, thcse arc for llIascl'.les or other ren'18, alld th" OCCUl'fCnCe of these entries mthe)' supports the view that thcse fools wcre Bot ordinarily dressed ill motley. It appears, howc"er, t.hat it "'as IlIOst usual for the court or domestic fool of the drama to weal' ordinary fool's dress. Chambers points (Jut in regard to Shakespeare's practicc in this respect that possibly this idea was derin'd 'less from cOlltelllporary custolll) for indeed we hear of 110

fool at Elizabeth's conrt, than frolll the abulldant fool literat lire' ,

cOlltillental alld English '. HO\,'c\'c~ this may bc, Shakespeare's '_~~ky- fo~c.c.rta.i.uly.JoWld_ coullterparts in dress :lII1011g their contemporaries BahultLlwd thc.-1i!:age 'Vill SlImlllers undollhtcclly wore motle):, alld therc are iJl _dicatio)l~ill th~ l~ll!)'s that othcrs did the ~~ 'Ve find too ill Hellslow's Diary an entry dating f/'Olll 1602 referring to 'a sewtt of motley fol' the scotchman for thc play called til(' malcolm kyllgc of scotes'.

The pcrsollagcs whose dress is most difficult to detcrmille are the douhtful characters, particularly the earlier examplcs of the serv<tllt­clown, Thus Saullders in The Taming of a Shrew, deflllitely called the fool, wears' a blew coat', alld illsists 011 the fact that he is wcar­iug his master's (livery coat', while Oil the other balld, PiStOIl, ill retlll'll for srl'\'ices re)](iered J is promised 'a guarded coat', ,~hicll appears to IIIcan a fool's coat. l All tbat call be said is that thcre is III) I'ule for characters of this kind, But fortunately there is 110 lack of eddence as to the dress which hecallle popular, with the most C0ll1lll011 type of clOWlI, COlltelllporal,), rci'erellces tllld illustratiom; leave little doubt 011 the subject, particlllarly ill regard to that most popular clown Tarltoll, who may ha\'e illtroduced thc fasllioll. '" e see him drcsscd ill rustic style-a suit ur russet, with ellorlllOUS hreeches, a 'buttoned c;~p' (tlie lIsual headgear of cOlllltryllH'1I at that tillle), clulIlsy shoes, alld a large pOlich at his si<i('.:! It is dear

) ( 'f, BeaUlllont alHI Flctcltcl', Thl' .;Yohi(' (:"lItkll/(lII, \', J : .\econliI1;! to hi~ l1lcrib !t.l ~!tOl\ ld \\'ear .\ ;!uanlc.l coat, all.1 a ;!reat \\OOr!Cll da;!/! .....

z ~ce frolltisl'iccc to Tfl"'If)II '~ JI'~ls, TlLr!tl)l/'~' XI'U'S IIllt "tl Jl/r,lllItl)r,'I, ( 'IH,ttle':.

A."ind-lIar!':> Drealll, (,'/lCk-«'Il'Ul/eb' III/IL ('III'k/J!t!:J t:rJ'(lIIts, awl \\'ri~!tt\ lJI/Mil/lI,~

of'the Jlind.

v

\

84 T1IE FOOL I~ TilE ELIZAnETIIA~ DHAl\IA

i that this dress was characteristic of the most popular type of stage fool at that period-that is, at the end of thc sixteenth century and the beginning of the next. The picture of Miles strongly rcsem hIes that of Tarlton (possibly, of coursc, Tarlton played that role); and references to various parts of thc dress are frequent, both ill the plays and elsewhere. 'I swear hy this hutton-cap', says 'Vill Crickct, and Henslowc's Diary contains a refcrence to 'a payer of gYC'llts hose' for Kemp. These enormm"s hose or 'slops' are pal'ticularly emphasized by contemporaries. Rowland remarks that 'Clownes knew the clowne by his great clownish slop' 1; and a German description of the' English clown' dating from 1597 runs as follows:

:Many a clownish trick he knows, 'Veal's shoes that don't much pinch his toes. His breeches could hold two or more, And have a monstrous flap before. His jacket makes him look a fool ~Tith all the blows he takes so coo1.2

! Even fools of this type show traces of the influence of the ordinary . fool's dress, similar to those mentioned ill connexion with the Vice.

The dagger appears still, though less frequently, and the pouch, 01'

great purse, is very prominent. Cricket, too, mentions his 'fair ~l'.

Two chief types, then, of fool's dress ha,'c been dcscribed, but no hard-and-fast rule for their use can be laid down-indeed, in the majority of cases, as with Heywood's clowns, there is not the slightest clnc to the nature of the drcss worn. In all probability, however, the costume of the ordinary type of clown at the period of his greatest popularity followed to some extent at least the fashion particularly associated with Tarlton, while thc domestic fool propcr tended to keep the traditional cap and bells.

1 Lettillg of HI/mollr ... Blood in the Hrnd rail/c, Epig-ram 31. 2 Quoted by Colm, Shakc:spearc in Germany, p. Ix.

CONCLU~ION

,y E han: 1I0W tl'llced thc e\'Ollitioll of the Ellglish sta~c fool fWIll

his hegillllillgs to his fullest development. "r c ha\'c witllcsscd his gradual transformation from a crudely sketchcd persollage,jlltrodU.c!.:d almost at haphazard into a play to entertain thc audicllce.-lvi~h the rlldcst and coarscst of buflooll_erIL!-02 charact~L posses~ing truc dr'l'llatic \'allle, di§!;illguishcd by illdi\' i~Ju.al chal~~cteristh:s_alld endowed !IUIO meall degrec wit!l _~cell_ wit and g~lIiaLJlUI}10111" But the pel'iod that witnesscd thc highest development of the stagc fool ill gelll'ral also sa\\" the begillnillgs of his decay. This decay was not so mm:h a deterioration in quality as a dccrease in qualltity, After the 11rst decade of the sc\'ellteeJlth l~cntlll'y thc clown appears more alld 1l1O1'l'

rarely, and ill the courRC of the next twcnty years he hCl'ollles practically cxtinct, The cause of this graduallJut completc disappear­allcc is not casy to determinc. The most usnal explalll~as already been hinte(l at-tJlc-uccay_of the- court and dOIl}cstic fools. But It secms unlikely that tltis was thc only cause, though it mar ha\'e been in some degree I'espunsible, for the dumcstic fool lingered 011 until the eighteenth l'cntury, and evell thc court fool did not fillally disappear !lIltii thc fall of Charles I, whell the stage fool had IOllg becn doomed. Another suggcstioll which Sl'elllS still le~s feasible is that a<i\'allced by Drake I-that the rc-eminence of Shakespeare's fools led to the extindioll 0 the chara~ter.l sillce i~ was illlpossib~r to kel.1) up thc standard which they h,~ l'l'eatsd.

It seellls most probable that the decay of the stage fool was largely the rcsult of a gradual dCl'rease ill the demand for him, (~ollsequellt Oil a change which came o\'el' the drama in gelleral ill the e;u'Iy da)JS­

of the Stuart~!3Y that tillle the llatiollal illter~st ill the dl';ulla whic h had heen so characteristic of Elizabeth's reitrll had \\'('(lkelll'd, alul

-t-h-c-stage was bCCOlIllllg ~~lerl'tlsillgb~ d~.Pl' IHlSllt ~)Il COlll't faroHr. Early III James '8 reign all the LOlldoll l'olllpallies call1e' to h(' directly under royal patl'Ollage, ami the productioll of their plays was slIhjcl'tl'd to the control of the :\laStl'l' of the Revels; cOllseqlll'lItly the youllger dramatists l'amc lllore alld lllore Ilmlcrll iCilllllll'JIl'C or the l'omt- ol' a l'ourt, 1110reover, that was becomillg ill('J'easillgly slI)lerticial alld

1 Shakcl;pcare Ilwi lIi8 Ti llla ,

s6 TilE FOOL II': TIlE ELIZ.ABET))A~ ))HA~IA

frivolons. \Vith the cllsnillg corrllptioll of the drama in general there is 110 IIl'ed to deal hel·e-the important poillt for thc clowlI is the fad that from 1 his time the drama begall to lose its Jlational character, and to hc("'ome a more artificial and cOlIrtly literary form. III sHch a dr:lI11a there was no place for the clown, who was, as we have seen, all e~sl'lItially native and PQ~lla\' charad<7r~ be~ slllted to a socicty ·i~yet too sophisticated or too highly developcd. For the fool hill _­self has a good deal of ~~.hHd, of th~ l.!.lI~eveJgp~( creature, ill his

"'"N aturc.. ~allklless , that most strikillg characteristic . of the primiti-ve heilig, is ~collEnllally notict'able in him-in his criticislliSOfot11crs apa ~ictI..i1LgCllcral~jIL th~_ c~pressioll of his passions, notal)ly his

. / greed, alld ill hi, 00 f)'('quent coarsellesi: Thus hc was well suitcd \,( () the Elizahethan age, which~}ot, on the whole, highly sophisti--=-

'-eail'd; but -\\'<0:; out of'=place ill the more artificial state of society ~ / which (,.(_llll~ ill with the Stuarts and was speedily r('flected in the

;' orama. Thc court gallants who then became the chief patr()I]s of the stage demallded, not the sallies of the clown, but a constant flow of smal·t dialogue, enlivcned by flashes of sparkling but oftell sllperfieial wit. Cartwright extols the superiority of this new style to the old in an address to Fletcher:

Shakespeare to thee was dull, whose bcst wit lies l' the ladies' (luestions and the fools' rcplies, Old-fashioned wit, which walk'd from town to town III trunk-hose, which our fathers call'd the clowll.

A gcneration which could speak thus of Shakespeare's fools could have little use for those of his successors.

Fletcher and his collaborator Beaulllont were alllong the first to caier for the new taste in drama. In their joint works but one fool appears, and that a pOOl' one. And from their time onward the stage dowll was doomed. As has already been pointed out, he was ~ely replaced by the' estin(T illtri(Tuillo~ .~erv(u~t, Ilot unlike the Italian type. N atUl"a y this change was gradual, for tl; -~l~kr -~lra~ll(~tistsJ such as Heywood, still dung to old-fashioncd ways; but by the.time of the closillg of the play-houses the once belon~d dOWll was banished from the regular drama for eyer. It is true that during the period of tlte prohibition of plays, the • drolls' by means of which lovers of thl' drama managed to satisfy their desires in spite of the act, perpetuated some of the Imffooneries of the ancient fools; but these wcre Ollly a stop-gap. After the Rcstoration, when a yet Illore artificial society prevailed than in pre-Commonwealth days, we filld but oue isolated attempt to re\'ive the down-Lobster ill Thorny-Abbey. A significant scene occurs in Shadwell's play, The lroman Captain (1680). At

CO~CLnSIO~

thr op('nin~ of the play. ",hrl1 yOllllg- Scattl'rg-ood is (li~lllissillg" tIll' old sr)'\':tllts of his father, a deHllPstic fool app('ars, alld ple'ads to II(' al"J,,"('(1 to stay; hut in spite of his protests Ill' is S(,lIt pal'killt.:' wit h the rest, because' 'tis ont of fashioll fo), g-I'eat 1IH'1l to kl'('P fools ...

'tis exploded e"en npon th(':;.s:,:t:::t.og.:,.e_'.:,' __ -------H('ncr we may say that tIl(' English stage fool rose and fell with

the Elizaheth:lll drama, as b('fitted snch a true child of his age. lIe' had sened his turn, and had becollH' snpersl'ded by it lie\\, order of things. It is difficult for the modeI'll read('r t.o lllldl'l'st.alld tl)(' stt'('lIgth

lof the fascination which Ill' exerted ill his day. J:Iis co:trsenes~H'S re.\:olt us, jIJ)(l his rUtle-jokcs-oftcu_fajl to :till usc. Bnt coarsl' as thc elOWIIS frequently arr, they compare fa\'()ul'ably as regards morality with thc characters which snceceded tlH'1l1 011 the stage; ami Oil the other hand, as we have seell, they at'(' hy no mealls destitllte or rlldnrillg- merit. Some of their sallics and shr(·\\'(l hits retaill their freshlH'sS :m(1 force to-day, alld alllollg these 1I11'lTy-makers of ..--

~l bygone ag-(' there are not a few whose aequaintallce we make with pleasure, alld whom we rememher with affection. "Tithout Babllio and Tu)')}op and the clowns of Greelll' and Heywood the drama would , be the poorer. And if this ,,"ere not the ease, if we sought ill "aill ill the works of Shakespeare's (,Olltelllpor~ll'ies fo), a fool of allY COII­

siderable intrillsic merit, we should still Ill' ohliged to reg-ard thl' Elizabethan down with some llleaSlIl'l' of gl'atitlHIl' and respect, sillcc' it is to the tradition l'lllhodi('d ill him that Wl' OWl' the fools of

Shakespeare. _ s-

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--,lizabethan drama