"Then," replied Rees, "it will be the first time in your life that you ever fitted any one." Another Welshman called Will the taborer was retained in a similar capacity, about the beginning of the last century, by Sir Edward Stradling, of St. Donat's castle, in Glamorganshire. He is said to have been a very witty fellow, and man of strong intellects. Lord Bussy Mansel, of Margam, had likewise in his service one Robin Rush, an idiot by nature, but who often said very witty things. There are people now alive in Wales, or lately were, who well remembered him.
The sort of entertainment that fools were expected to afford, may be collected in great variety from our old plays, and particularly from those of Shakspeare; but perhaps no better idea can be formed of their general mode of conduct than from the following passage in a singular tract by Lodge, entitled Wit's miserie, 1599, 4to: "Immoderate and disordinate joy became incorporate in the bodie of a jeaster; this fellow in person is comely, in apparell courtly, but in behaviour a very ape, and no man; his studie is to coine bitter jeasts, or to shew antique motions, or to sing baudie sonnets and ballads: give him a little wine in his head, he is continually flearing and making of mouthes: he laughs intemperately at every little occasion, and dances about the house, leaps over tables, out-skips mens heads, trips up his companions heeles, burns sack with a candle, and hath all the feats of a lord of misrule in the countrie: feed him in his humor, you shall have his heart, in meere kindness he will hug you in his armes, kisse you on the cheeke, and rapping out an horrible oth, crie God's soule Tum, I love you, you know my poore heart, come to my chamber for a pipe of tabacco, there lives not a man in this world that I more honor. In these ceremonies you shall know his courting, and it is a speciall mark of him at the table, he sits and makes faces: keep not this fellow company, for in jugling with him, your wardropes shall be wasted, your credits crackt, your crownes consumed, and time (the most precious riches of the world) utterly lost." This is the picture of a real hireling or artificial fool.
As the profession of these hirelings required a considerable degree of skill and dexterity to amuse their employers, so it would in some instances fail of success, and the want of the above talents would excite considerable disgust and dissatisfaction. Cardinal Perron being one day in company with the duke of Mantua, the latter, speaking of his fool, said that he was un magro buffone & non haver spirito. The cardinal remarked that nevertheless he had wit. "Why so?" demanded the duke. "Because," replied the other, "he lives by a trade which he does not understand."[60] The liberties allowed them were necessarily very great; but this was not always a protection to them. Every one knows the disgracefully severe conduct of archbishop Laud to poor Archee. The duke d'Espernon, though a man of great haughtiness of spirit, conducted himself on a similar occasion with much more discretion. His Gascon accent was a constant subject of raillery on the part of Maret, the fool of Louis XIII., whose great talent lay in mimicry. Cardinal Richelieu, who took upon him to give the duke some pointed admonitions, ordered him among other things to endeavour to get rid of his provincial tones, at the same time counterfeiting his speech, and sarcastically intreating him not to take his advice in bad part. "But why should I," replied the duke, "when I bear as much every day from the king's fool, who mocks me in your presence?"[61] Selden has remarked, on a similar occasion, that a gallant man is above ill words, and has left us a story of the forbearance of the old lord Salisbury, whom he calls a great wise man, towards Stone, a celebrated fool in the reign of James the First.[62] Fools, however, did not always escape with impunity; they were liable to, and often experienced, very severe domestic castigation. Whipping was the punishment generally inflicted.[63] On the other hand they appear to have been sometimes used with great tenderness. This is very feelingly exemplified in the conduct of Lear. Stafford in his Guide of honour, 1634, 18mo, tells us, that he "had knowne a great and competently wise man who would much respect any man that was good to his foole." An opportunity here presents itself of explaining the old proverb of "five pounds; you've bled a fool," which, adverting to the usual privilege or allowance belonging to this character, seems to demand a forfeit from whoever had infringed it by inflicting an improper and unlawful chastisement. This exposition derives support from a passage in Ben Jonson's Fox, and also contributes to its illustration. In the second Act there is a song describing a fool, in which it is said that he "speaks truth free from slaughter." This has been with some ingenuity supposed to mean "free from hurting any one." The other construction may perhaps be thought as plausible.
With respect to his office on the stage, we may suppose it would be nearly the same as in reality; the difference might be that his wit was more highly seasoned. Mr. Malone has already cited a very curious passage on this subject from the play of The careless shepherdess, 1656.[64] In Middleton's Mayor of Quinborough, a company of actors with a clown make their appearance, and the following dialogue ensues:
First cheater.
This is our clown, sir.
Simon.
Fye, fye, your company
Must fall upon him and beat him; he's too fair, i' faith
To make the people laugh.
First cheater.