Act II.  Scene IV.

Jaques. A fool! a fool!—­I met a fool i’ the forest, A motley fool:—­a miserable fool!—­ As I do live by food, I met a fool:  Who laid him down, and basked him in the sun, And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms.  In good set terms—­and yet a motley fool.  “Good morrow, fool,” quoth I.  “No, Sir,” quoth he, “Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune.”  And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking on it with lack lustre eye, Says very wisely, “It is ten o’clock;” “Thus we may see,” quoth he, “how the world wags; ’Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more t’will be eleven, And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot, And thereby hangs a tale.”

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

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

Clown. God bless thee, lady.

Olivia. Take the fool away.

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

* * * * *

Good Madonna, why mournest thou?

Oli. Good fool, for my brother’s death.

Clo. I think his soul is in hell, Madonna.

Oli. I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

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

In King Lear.

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

     Lear. No, lad, teach me.

     Fool. That lord that counselled thee

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

     Lear. Dost thou call me fool, boy?

     Fool. All thy other titles thou hast given away that thou wast
     born with.

     Kent. This is not altogether a fool, my lord.

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