Once many years ago lived an old, old man With a pointed hat and a gypsy caravan. All through his early years at his father's knee He had learned his trade, certain one day also he Would be a fool as his father was a fool As his grandfather had been before him. Always a fool, with the tricks and with the songs And the Ladies of the Court to adore him - So, when his father died on a winter's night On a damp bed of straw in the dim candlelight, There, with the tricks and songs so an oath he swore Not to end his days on a damp bed of straw. He would be a fool as his father was a fool As his grandfather had been before him. Always a fool, with the tricks and with the songs And the Ladies of the Court would adore him. He took his tricks and songs and his old caravan To the Courts of the Barons and the Lords of the land, And the Ladies laughed at the antics of the knave, And he ate all the scraps of the venison they gave. Oh, he was such a fool as his father was a fool As his grandfather had been before him. Always a fool, with the tricks and with the songs - How the Ladies of the Court, they adore him! So, slow did his great fame grow, one day so to bring All his tricks and songs to the notice of the King. "Sire," said a noble Lord, "you should see the clown With the paint upon his face and his trousers fallen down! Oh, he's such a fool as his father was a fool As his grandfather has been before him. Always a fool, with the tricks and with the songs - How the Ladies of the Court, they adore him!" The King stamped his glee, and he took the fool along To the palace of the great, where the jester sang his songs; And he stayed through the years 'til his eyes were growing dim And the King knew all the tricks and grew tired of all the jokes... and tired of him. He said, "You've been a fool as your father was a fool As your grandfather has been before you. Always a fool with the tricks and with your songs And how the Ladies of the Court, they adored you... But now you're growing old, your tricks are growing few And I want to laugh again and I want somebody new." "Sire," said the knave, "don't send me to my grave - I've the greatest trick of all, and I've made it just for you! I know you've heard all my jokes and you've heard all my songs, But Louis' Fool is still unique - Behold, my greatest trick, my Lord! I'll teach your horse to speak!" The eyes of the King opened wide, and he readily agreed And he asked of the fool, was there anything he'd need? "Sire," said the fool, "'tis Spring. 'Til Spring returns is the only thing. For in that year, Sire, you may die Or on my grave might even walk; Or even this world might cease to spin... And even the horse might talk... Ha ha ha...