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THE pliments of the season to my worthy masters, and a merry first of April to us all!Many happy returns of this day to you -- and you --and you, Sir -- nay, never frown, man, nor put a long face upoter. Do not we know one another? what need of ceremony among friends? we have all a touch of that same -- you uand me -- a speck of the motley. Beshrew the man who on such a day as this, the general festival, should affect to stand aloof. I am none of those sneakers. I am free of the corporation, and care not who knows it. He that meets me in the forest to-day, shall meet with no wise-acre, I tell him. Stultus sum. Translate me that, and take the meaning of it to yourself for your pains. What, man, we have four quarters of the globe on our side, at the least putation.
Fill us a cup of that sparkling gooseberry -- we will drink no wise, melancholy, politic port on this day -- a us troll the catiens -- duc ad me -- duc ad me -- how goes it?
Here shall he see
Gross fools as he.
Now would I give a t<mark></mark>rifle to know historically and authentically, who was the greatest fool that ever lived. I would certainly give him in a bumper. Marry, of the present breed, I think I could without much difficulty name you the party.
Remove your cap a little further, if you please; it hides my bauble. And now each maride his hobby, and dust away his bells to what tune he pleases. I will give you, for my part,
_______The crazy old church clock,
And the bewildered chimes.
Good master Empedocles, you are wele. It is long since you went a salamander gathering downa. Worse than samphire-pig by some odds. `Tis a mercy your worship did not singe your mustachios.
Ha! brotus! and what salads in faith did you light upon at the bottom of the Mediterranean? You were founder, I take it, of the disied sect of the turists.
Gebir, my old free-mason, and prince of plasterers at Babel, bring in your trowel, most A Grand! You have claim to a seat at my right hand, as patron of the stammerers. You left your work, if I remember Herodotus correctly, at eight hundred million toises, or thereabout, above the level of the sea. Bless us, what a long bell you must have pulled, to call your top workmen to their nun on the low grounds of Sennaar. Or did you send up yarlid onions by a rocket? I am a rogue if I am not ashamed to show you our Mo on Fish-street Hill, after your altitudes. Yet we think it somewhat.
What, the magnanimous Alexander in tears ? -- cry, baby, put its finger in its eye, it shall have anlobe, round as an e, pretty moppet!
Mister Adams -- odso, I honour your coat -- pray do us the favour to read to us that sermon, which you lent to Mistress Slipslop -- the twenty and sed in your portmahere -- on Female Intinence -- the same -- it will e in most irrelevantly and impertily seasoo the time of the day.
Go Master Raymund Lully, you look wise. Pray correct that error. -
Duns, spare your definitions. I must fine you a bumper, or a paradox. We will have nothing said or done syllogistically this day. Remove those logical forms, waiter, that lemahe tender shins of his apprehension stumbling across them.
Master Stephen, you are late. -- Ha! Cokes, is it you ? -- Ague-cheek, my dear knight, let me pay my devoir to you. -- Master Shallow, your worships poor servant to and. -- Master Silence, I will use few words with you. -- Slender, it shall go hard if I edge not you in somewhere. -- You six will engross all the poor wit of the pany to-day. -- I know it, I know it.
Ha! ho R--, my fine <big>藏书网</big>old Librarian of Ludgate, time out of mind, art thou here again? Bless thy doublet, it is not over-hreadbare as thy stories -- what dost thou flitting about the world at this rate ? -- Thy ers are extinct, defunct, bed-rid, have ceased to read long ago. -- Thou goest still among them, seeing if, peradvehou st hawk a volume or two. -- Good Granville S---, thy last patron, is flown.
King Pandion, he is dead,
All thy friends are lapt in lead. -
heless, noble R --, e in, and take your seat here, between Armado and Quisada: for in true courtesy, in gravity, in fantastic smiling to thyself, in courteous smiling upon others, in the goodly ornature of well-apparelled speech, and the endation of wise sentehou art nothing inferior to those aplished Dons of Spain. The spirit of chivalry forsake me for ever, when I fet thy singing the song of Macheath, which declares that he might be happy with either, situated between those two a spinsters -- when I fet the inimitable formal love which thou didst make, turning now to the one, and now to the other, with that Malvolian smile -- as if Cervantes, not Gay, had written it for his hero; and as if thousands of periods must revolve, before the minor of courtesy could have given his invidious prefereween a pair of so goodly-propertied aorious-equal damsels. . . . . .
To desd from these altitudes, and not to protract our Fools Ba beyond its appropriate day, -- for I fear the sed of April is not many hours distant -- in sober verity I will fess a Truth to thee, reader. I love a Fool -- as naturally, as if I were of kith and kin to him. When a child, with child-like apprehensions, that dived not below the surface of the matter, I read those Parables -- not guessing at their involved wisdom -- I had more yearnings towards that simple architect, that built his house upon the sand, thaertained for his more cautious neighbour; I grudged at the hard sure pronounced upon the quiet soul that kept his talent; and -- prizing their simplicity beyond the more provident, and, to my apprehension, somewhat unfeminine wariness of their petitors -- I felt a kindliness, that almost amouo a tendre, for those five thoughtless virgins. -- I have never made an acquaintance sihat lasted; or a friendship, that answered; with any that had not some tincture of the absurd in their characters. I vee an ho obliquity of uanding. The more laughable blunders a man shall it in your pany, the more tests he giveth you, that he will not betray or overreach you. I love the sa<dfn>9９liｂ?</dfy, which a palpable halluation warrants; the security, which a word out of season ratifies. And take my word for this, reader, and say a fool told it you, if you please, that he who hath not a dram of folly in his mixture, hath pounds of much worse matter in his position. It is observed, that "the foolisher the fowl or fish, -- woodcocks, -- dotterels, -- cods-heads, &c. the fihe flesh thereof," and what are only the worlds received fools, but such whereof the world is not worthy? and what have been some of the ki patterns of our species, but so many darlings of absurdity, minions of the goddess, and her white boys? -- Reader, if you wrest my words beyond their fair stru, it is you, and not I, that are the April Fool.
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