PROLOGUE: THE FOOL
guocggeueeeeuuuusNsueCIED
‘Tue traditional mocto of the
bistrionem, reterited an observation
lobe Theatre, torus mundus agit
xe men have made about their
Lives since elasial a
to have asked if he had ac
Greek poet wortiy o
iquity. As Caesar Augustus lay dying, he is sad
dl the play of life properly; and the last
ne, Palladas of Alexandria, as he beheld
the ruins of his Hlllenistic world, philosophized thar all life was a
stage and that a man must either learn to pur aside his seriousness and
play or else endure the pains of existence. Throughout the Middle
Ages and the Renaissance, the simile, with its somber attitude toward
illusion and realty, continued to capture men's imaginations; and
when, as late as the seventeenth century, Don Quixote borrows it
from Exasmus to expound it to his simple squire as though it were
original with him, Sancho, who is something of an
proverbs, causticilly replies, “A brave c
to me, chat have heard it often.
Even as he has sat in the theat
the presence of the gods in their the
Tey la Comedie apparoist un exemple
(Ok clzeun de son fait les actions eonternple
Le monde est le Theatre, & les hommes, ators.
TEs Fortune qui est maitese dela Scene
Apress les habite, & de la vie humaine
tear & les destin sont les grands spectateurs,
watching the actors, man has felt
, watching him enact his part:
The metaphor, in pondering the insubstantial pageantry of life, sug
gests thatthe life enacted on the great globe itself is no more lasting
or significant than that enacted on the stage and concludes that what
we live is merely a play or an illusion or @ dream. Turning upon thePRAISERS OF FOLLY
ne on to make other plays in on
ms are made on, that Ja vida es suefio,
aplication may or may not be that we
metaphor, men have g
that We are such scuff as dre
der Traum ein Leben, The
bur che emphasis of anima
shall wake in another, more lasting
that sees life asa play is upon the brevity of this life, upon its lusory
or illusory character, and upon the fact that the curtain will finally
ker Rates
fall and the play end — that we only lve, in V
Thus masch we playing 1 our latest rest,
Onely we dye in earnest, at's no les!
and the metaphor, th
infer th
Yee if life is short, artis Ion
the mortality of life, manages at the same time ro
tality of art. For to say that everyone phys a role in the drama of
life is to explain life with the imagery of art and to preserve life's
transitory moment in the amber of arts eternity. As such, che meta-
phor also implicitly contains the basic assumption of all art, that it is
‘ow in that art which is literature, man has tried
plays in the drama of life, and in doing so he
ether intentionally of unintentionally, a mimetic
an imitation of life,
ta describe the role
has thereby left
chronicle of his existence. If all the world is indeed a stage
of looking at this chronicle is to see it as a succession of personae,
s who pass across the stage. Though the number
of literary protagonist
of roles that men and women play is infinite and though all of
are being enacted all the time, man, in his literary imitations 0
drama, has given the part of the protagonist nov’ to one and now t0
another of the actors. Certain figures, that is, have at certain times
been chosen from among the infinite variety of roles for positions of
predominance on the stage of literary history, because they have
somehow seemed to represent symbolically ‘the assumptions and
arguments, the aspirations and nostalgia of their 3
“Tbe Poems of Sir Waltr Rlegh oA. M.C. Lam (London, 920) 48
stibed query of Augurae Caan ate Suetonius, De city Cacsoram, ty
remark, Tia; for Ronse pac, see Ociorer complete, ed. Pas
EStmonice Garni), XIN sae A conenene cxalogu of ease expres:
ons ofthis topes proved fa Rudalps Him, Lucian to AMeipp ip and
Bete is) foe anf. For ner gecurenees te Jean Jarquot; “Le ‘Tate da
Mond’ de Saltire & Cadet” Revue del brane compar, SOXXL (95)
acpi and Ancorlo Vara oF Tens del Gra Testo dt Sunde? Boletin de
RETA de Buona Len de Barecons, YXIM (930, 1538
TE
FOOL 3
En gests differen, en diferens langages,
Roys Princes & Bergers jouéne leurs personnages?
aladin, the shepherd, che savage, the artist, the
ach with his characteristic scenery, gestures,
age, has had his particular moment on the stage when he
‘erter able to articulate che thoughts of his time than any of
the other dramatis personae.
At one moment, for example, the curtains part to reveal a_pilgrim
moving along a road. He is middle-aged, and the season is spring; and
whether he descends the winding path to carth’s infernal core or
climbs the craggy Mountain of Virtue or rides the fabled roads
eastward to Canterbury or south to Compostela, it isthe same man,
from the same time, on his way to God. He is Everyman, the symbolic
pprotagonise for his age. Many scenes late, the curtains pare again to
reveal a man moving along a road, but itis neither the same man nor
the same road. This time he is young, and the season is late summer.
His sep is firms his pockets are empty; his mind is filled with thoughts
of Napoleon, ot with Wertherian dreams of love and poetry, or with
great expectations. Behind him he leaves the blacksmith’s forge or the
printer’s shop in the provincial town, a devoted friend, a tearful
mistress, a loving family; and che road is the coach road to London
or Paris. As spectators, we are able to determine many things about
his time from the particular gure who is chosen, the landscape against
which he moves, and the way in which he behaves. For each of them
lls us not only his own personal story, bue something about his world
as well. He is, ag Taine called him, the personnage régnant of his
epoch; “his sentiments and his ideas are those of an entire genera-
Ie is with another such symbolic actor, the fool, that this study is
concerned. Like all the others, the fool also has his moment as
personnage régnont, and when he docs we may see in him too the
embodiment of one aspect of an age and the articu
‘of thought characteristic of that
thing surprising about the fact that this should be so, and of all such
ly some-
personae perhaps none comes to the front of the stage quite so un-
The icy of the
Pl amr at (Pai
ronoage régnnt is developed in Hippolyte Tsine, De
eas4 PRAISERS OF FOLLY
expectedly. We are generally prepared to aceept almost any literary
Ihero as spokesman for his age, and as ws look back over the centuries
ie seems understandable that such figures as the shepherd and the
ienight should have had, at particular gines such predominant roes
conferred upon them. But for the fool it seems an unlikely assignment.
Not only would his folly sem to make him unworthy of such a part
bat also is role would seem, by its very nature, to be subservient to
those roles given to figures of greater dignity. Consequently, when
hie finally does begin to play the protagonist, he denies certain of our
assumptions about him and to some degree violates our sense of
decorum: we are aware that something extraordinary has happened.
Yet move to the center of the stage i precisely what he does. And
jse as the medieval pilgrim as protagonise would claim that c0 go
through life was to be a pilgrim, so the fool as protagonist has the
tudacity to invoke the classical image of the world a5 a stage and
Claim that to be a foo! isto act the pliy of life.
ie was the Renaissance that brought the fool into the limelight on
the stage of literature; and chough he has antecedents as far back as
the world of classical antiquity, the figure evoked by the word foo!
js really a creation of the late Middle Ages. When we hear the word,
‘we think of a smal, dwarfish man, often hunchbacked, who wears 2
‘cout of motley with its asinine hood and bells and carries a bauble
fr marotte, OF course, there is also 2 less specific connotation to the
Word fool. proverbially it refers simply to any human being who is
eprived of reason — the stupid, the ignorant, the mad, the foo! sh
‘The Rigoleto-type fool evoked by the word — the coure jester of
the fifteenth century —is in fact only the formal, atficial imitation
ff the actual fools, the madmen and idiots, who wandered loose
through the medieval world, Between the two extremes of the village
Fdioe and the court jester, the nacural and the artificial fool, there are
fs many degrees of fooldom and foolery as there are degrees of
madness; but whoever is called foolisi, whether the lover, the dupe,
the sinner, or the theatrical clown, i called so because he acts like a
man deprived of his wits —like the natural fool. Upon this “bell
‘without a clapper,” as he was sometimes called, the Middle Ages rang
many changes, and when the first major fool of the Renaisance
txelims, “Good lorde, what a Theatre is this worlde? how many,
THE FOOL s
and divers are the pageants that fooles phic therin?” * she calls to
mind all of the many fools that the Middle Ages had developed.
“These types and their socal, terary, and theatrical histories have been
carefully raced and catalogued, notably by Olive Busby, Barbara
Swain, and Enid Welford, and their studies are an essential incro-
duction to any examination of the Renaissance fool. To reiterate all
that has been written on this would require a lengthy digression from
four subject, and there is litle need to repeat what has been so
Sulequately set foreh elsewhere. Ie may be useful, however, to sum-
inane briefly whae the Middle Ages thought a fool was, especially
‘nce the Renaissance authors whom we shall be considering assumed
thar thee readers had a certain image of the foo! in mind.
‘Since it upon the protorype of the natural fool that al che more
sophisticated and artfiial fools are based, we may sce these atrades,
Inost clearly and in their most pristine form if we consider what the
Middle Ages thought of the simple idiot. The first point eo be made
fs that they knew him well. Indeed, i is hard for ws co imagine how
‘common the spectacle of idiocy or insanity must have been in @ world
that knew nether the techniques of modem medicine nor those ofthe
payehological clinic, Generally such ereatures could be seen almost
Grerywhere. Violent madmen, of course, who were thought to be
possesed by devils, were crtured and incarcerated, frst in the monas-
ries and later in such insirtions as that celebrared etymological
Source, the Hospital of St, Mary of Bethlehem in London On the
‘ther hand, the feeble-minded were simply allowed to roam free, for
they were harmless, Their heads seemed as empey a8 a pair of bellows,
nd accordingly from the Latin word for bellows the name foo! ot
fou was coined for them. Set apart fom normal human beings by
bis empry-headed irrationality, the innocent fool was to the Middle
‘Ages more of a thing than a being, and he became ro them simply an