{The fool folds his arms, and begins to cry bitterly.}
Christina. What now, Aleftson? I never saw you sad before—What’s the matter?—Speak.
{Fool sobs, but gives no answer.}
Helm. Why do you weep so bitterly?
Aleft. Because I am a fool.
Helm. Many should weep, if that were cause sufficient.
Eleon. But, Aleftson, you have all your life, till now, been a merry fool.
Fool. Because always, till now, I was a fool, but now I am grown wise: and ‘tis difficult, to all but you, lady, to be merry and wise.
Christina. A pretty compliment; ‘tis a pity it was paid by a fool.
Fool. Who else should pay compliments, lady, or who else believe them?