THE FOOL
(Bits of Dialogue from an Unpublished Morality Play)
FOOL—I have a question for you.
Philosopher—I have many, for myself. Do you happen to have heard that a fool can ask what a philosopher is unable to answer?
F.—I happen to have heard that if that is true the one is as great a fool as the other.
Ph.—What presumption! Philosophy is search for truth; folly is submission to happiness.
F.—But happiness is the sole desire and only possible purpose of man.
Ph.—Has virtue no other end?
F.—The other end of virtue is the beginning.
Ph.—Instructed, I sit at your feet.
F.—Unwilling to instruct, I stand on my head.
Philosopher—You say that happiness is the sole desire of man. This is much disputed.
Fool—There is happiness in disputation.
Ph.—But Socrates says—
F.—He was a Grecian. I hate foreigners.
Ph.—Wisdom is of no country.
F.—Of none that I have observed.
Philosopher—Let us return to our subject, happiness as the sole desire of man. Crack me these nuts. (1) The man that endures a life of toil and privation for the good of others.
Fool—Does he feel remorse for so doing? Does he not rather like it?
Ph.—(2) He who, famishing himself, gives his loaf to a beggar.
F.—There are those who prefer benevolence to bread.
Ph.—(3) How of him who goes joyfully to martyrdom at the stake?
F.—He goes joyfully.
Ph.—And yet—
F.—Did you ever talk with a good man going to the stake?
Ph.—I never saw one going to the stake.
F.—Unfavored observer!—you were born a century too early.
Philosopher—You say that you hate foreigners. Why?
Fool—Because I am human.
Ph.—But so are they.
F.—I thank you for the better reason.
Philosopher—I have been thinking of the pocopo.
Fool—So have I; what is it?
Ph.—The pocopo is a small Brazilian animal, chiefly remarkable for singularity of diet. A pocopo eats nothing but other pocopos. As these are not easily obtained, the annual mortality from starvation is very great. As a result, there are fewer mouths to feed, and by consequence the race is rapidly multiplying.
F.—From whom had you this?
Ph.—A professor of political economy.
F.—Let us rise and uncover.
Fool—A foreign student of the English language read the report of a colloquy between a fool and a philosopher. The remarks of the fool were indicated by the letter F; those of the philosopher by the lettersPh—as ours will be if Heaven raise up a great, wise man to report them.
Philosopher—Well?
F.—Nothing. Ever thereafter the misguided foreign student spelled “fool” with ph and philosopher with an f.
Ph.—Neo-Platonist!
Fool—If I were a doctor—
Doctor—I should endeavor to be a fool.
F.—You would fail—folly is not achieved, but upon the meritorious it is conferred.
D.—For what purpose?
F.—For yours.
Fool—I have a friend who—
Doctor—Is in need of my assistance. Absence of excitement, absolute quiet, a hard bed and a simple diet; that will cure him.
F.—Hardly. He is dead—he is taking your prescription.
D.—All but the simple diet.
F.—He is himself the diet.
D.—How simple.
Fool—What is the nastiest medicine?
Doctor—A fool’s advice.
F.—And what the most satisfactory disease?
D.—The most lingering one.
F.—To the patient, I mean.
D.—Paralysis of the thoracic duct.
F.—I am not familiar with it.
D.—It does not encourage familiarity. Paralysis of the thoracic duct enables the patient to overeat without taking the edge off his appetite.
F.—What an admirable equipment for dining out! How long does the patient’s unnatural appetite last?
D.—The time varies; always longer than he does.
F.—As an hypothesis, that is imperfectly conceivable. It sounds like a doctrine.
Doctor—Anything further?
Fool—You attend a patient; nevertheless he recovers. How do you tell if his recovery was because of your treatment or in spite of it?
D.—I never do tell.
F.—I mean, how do you know?
D.—I take the opinion of a person interested in such matters: I ask a fool.
F.—How does the patient know?
D.—The fool asks me.
F.—You are very kind; how shall I prove my ingratitude?
D.—By close attention to the laws of health.
F.—God forbid!
Fool—Sir Cutthroat, how many orphans have you made to-day?
Soldier—The devil an orphan. Have you a family?
F.—Put up your iron; I am the last of my race.
S.—What!—no more fools?
F.—Not one, so help me! They have all gone to the wars. By the way, you are somewhat indebted to me.
S.—Let us arbitrate your claim: arbitration is good for my trade.
F.—The only arbiter whose decision you respect is on your side. It hangs there.
S.—It is impartial: it cuts both ways. For what am I indebted to you?
F.—For existence. Prevalence of me has made you possible.
S.—Possible? Sir, I am probable.
Soldier—Why do you wear a cap and bells?
Fool—The civic equivalent of a helmet and plume.
S.—Go “hang a calf-skin on those recreant limbs.”
F.—’Tis only wisdom should be bound in calf, for wisdom is the veal of which folly is the matured beef.
S.—Then folly should be garbed in cowskin.
F.—Aye, that it may the sooner appear for what it is—the naked truth.
S.—How should it?
F.—You would soon strip off the hide to make harness and trappings withal. No one thinks what conquerors owe to cows.
Fool—Tell me, hero, what is strategy?
Soldier—The art of putting two knives to one throat.
F.—And what is tactics?
S.—The art of drawing them across it.
F.—Fine! I read (in Joinville, I think) that during the Crusades the armament of a warship comprised two hundred serpents. These be strange weapons.
S.—What stuff a fool may talk! The great Rameses used to turn loose lions against his enemies, but no true soldier would employ serpents. Those snakes wereused by sailors.
F.—A nice distinction, truly. Did you ever employ your blade in the splitting of hairs?
S.—I have split masses of them!
Fool—Speaking of the Crusades—at the siege of Acre, when a part of the wall had been thrown down by the Christians the Pisans rushed gallantly into the breach, but the greater part of their army being at dinner, they were bloodily repulsed. Was it not a shame that those feeders should not stir from their porridge to succor their allies?
Soldier—Pray why should a man neglect his business to oblige a friend?
F.—But they might have conquered, and the city would have been open to sacking and pillage.
S.—The selfish gluttons!
Fool—Why is a coachman’s uniform called a livery and a soldier’s livery a uniform?
S.—Your presumption grows insupportable. Speak no more of matters that you know nothing about.
F.—Such censorship would doom all tongues to inactivity. Test my knowledge.
S.—What is war?
F.—An acute stage of logical politics.
S.—What is peace?
F.—A suspension of hostilities. An armistice for the purpose of digging up the dead.
S.—I do not follow you.
F.—Then I have security without exertion.
S.—You damned half-ration!