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and to stop up the displeasure he hath conceiv'd against your Son, there is no fitter matter. How do's your Ladyship like it?

Count. With very much content, my Lord, and I wish it happily effected.

Laf. His Highness comes poft from Marfeilles, of as able a body as when he number'd thirty; he will be here to morrow, or I am deceiv'd by him that in fuch intelligence hath feldom fail'd.

Count. It rejoices me, that, I hope, I fhall fee him ere I die. I have letters, that my Son will be here to night I shall beseech your Lordship to remain with me 'till they meet together.

Laf. Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might fafely be admitted.

Count. You need but plead your honourable privilege.

Laf. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but, I thank my God, it holds yet.

Enter Clown.

Clo. O Madam, yonder's my Lord your Son with a patch of velvet on's face; whether there be a scar under't, or no, the velvet knows, but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet; his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare.

Count. A fcar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour. So, belike, is that.

Clo. But it is your carbonado'd face.

Laf. Let us go fee your Son, I pray you: I long to talk with the young noble Soldier.

Clo. 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em with delicate fine hats and most courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every man.

[Exeunt.

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A CT V.

SCENE, the Court of France, at
Marfeilles.

B

Enter Helena, Widow, and Diana, with two
Attendants.

HELEN A.

UT this exceeding Pofting day and night
Muft wear your fpirits low; we cannot help it.
But fince you've made the days and nights as

one,

To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs;
Be bold, you do fo grow in my requital,
As nothing can unroot you. In happy time,-

Enter a Gentleman.

This man may help me to his Majefty's ear,
If he would fpend his power. God fave you, Sir.
Gent. And you.

Hel. Sir, I have feen you in the Court of France.
Gent. I have been fometimes there.

Hel. I do prefume, Sir, that you are not fallen
From the report that goes upon your goodness;
And therefore, goaded with moft fharp occafions
Which lay nice manners by, I put you to
The ufe of your own virtues, for the which
I fhall continue thankful.

Gent. What's your will?

Hel. That it will please you

To give this poor petition to the King,
And aid me with that ftore of power you have,

To come into his presence.

Gent. The King's not here.

Hel. Not here, Sir?

Gent.

Gent. Not, indeed.

He hence remov'd last night, and with more hafte
Than is his use.

Wid. Lord, how we lose our pains!

Hel. All's well, that ends well yet,

Tho' time seem so adverse, and means unfit:
I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Roufillon,
Whither I'm going.

Hel. I beseech you, Sir,

Since you are like to fee the King before me,
Commend the paper to his gracious hand 1;
Which, I prefume, fhall render you no Blame,
But rather make you thank your pains for it.
I will come after you with what good speed
Our means will make us means.

Gent. This I'll do for you.

Hel. And you fhall find your felf to be well thank'd,
What-e'er falls more. We must to horse again.
Go, go, provide.

Par.

SCENE changes to Roufillon.

Go

Enter Clown, and Parolles.

[Exeunt.

OOD Mr. Levatch, give my Lord Lafe this letter; I have ere now, Sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with frefher cloaths; (36) but I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's moat, and smell somewhat ftrong of her strong difpleasure.

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Clo.

(36) But I am now, Sir, muddied in Fortune's Mood, and fmell fomewhat ftrong of her firong Difpleafure.] Fortune's Mood is, without Queftion, good Senfe, and very proper and yet I verily believe, the Poet wrote as I have reftor'd in the Text; in Fortune's Moat: because the Clown in the very next Speech replies, I will henceforth eat no Fish of Fortune's buttering, and again, when he comes to repeat Parolles's Petition to Lafeu, — that bath fall'n into the unclean Fishpond of her Difpleafure, and, as he fays, is muddied withal. And again, Pray you, Sir, ufe the Carp as you may, &c. In all which Places, 'tis obvious, a Moat, or Pond, is the Allufion. Befides, Parolles fmelling

ftrong,

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Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but fluttish, if it fmell fo ftrongly as thou speak'ft of: I will henceforth cat no fish of fortune's butt'ring. Pr'ythee, allow the wind.

Par. Nay, you need not to ftop your nose, Sir; I fpake but by a metaphor.

Clo. Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor ftink, I will ftop my nose against any man's metaphor. Pry'thee, get thee further.

Par. Pray you, Sir, deliver me this paper.

Clo. Foh! pr'ythee, ftand away; a paper from fortune's close-stool, to give to a Nobleman! look, here he comes himself.

Enter Lafea.

Here is a pur of fortune's, Sir, or of fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat;) that hath fall'n into the unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he fays, is muddied withal. Pray you, Sir, use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rafcally knave. (37) I do pity his diftress in my Similes of comfort, and leave him to your Lordship. Par. My Lord, I am a man whom fortune hath crùelly fcratch'd..

Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you play'd the knave with fortune, that the fhould fcratch you, who of her felf is a good Lady, and would not have

ftrong, as he fays, of Fortune's ftrong Displeasure, carries on the fame Image: For as the Moats round old Seats were always replenish'd with Fish, fo the Clown's joke of holding his Nofe, we may prefume, preceeded from Thisbecause la Chambre baffe was always over the Moat: and therefore the Clown humouroufly fays, when Parolles is preffing him to deliver his Letter to Lord Lafeu. Fob! prythee, ftand away: A Paper from Fortune's Clofeftool, to give to a Nobleman!

(37) I do pity his Diftrefs in my Smiles of Comfort,] This very humourous Paffage my Friend Mr. Warburton rescued from Nonfenfe moft happily, by the Infertion of a fingle Letter, in the Manner I have reform'd the Text. Thefe Similes of Comfort are ironically meant by the Clown; as much as to fay, you may perceive, how much I think he deferves Comfort, by my calling him Fortune's Cat, Carp, rafcally Krave, &c.

knaves thrive long under her? there's a Quart-d'ecu for you: let the Juftices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business.

Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one fingle word.

Laf. You beg a fingle penny more: come, you fhall ha't, fave your word.

Par. My name, my good Lord, is Parolles.

Laf. You beg more than one word then. Cox' my paffion! give me your hand: how does your drum? Par. O my good Lord, you were the firft, that found

me.

Laf. Was I, infooth? and I was the firft, that loft thee.

Par. It lyes in you, my Lord, to bring me in fome grace, for you did bring me out.

Laf. Out upon thee, knave! doft thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the Devil? one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [Sound Trumpets.] The King's coming, I know, by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me, I had talk of you last night; tho' you are a fool and a knave, you fhall eat; go to, follow.

Par. I praise God for you,

[Exeunt,

Flourish. Enter King, Countefs, Lafeu, the two
French Lords, with attendants.

King. We loft a jewel of her, (38) our esteem
Was made much poorer by it; but your Son,

our Efteem

(38) Was made much poorer by it; -] What's the Meaning of the King's Efteem being made poorer by the Lofs of Helen? I think, it can only be understood in one Sense; and That Sense won't carry Water: i. e. We fuffer'd in our Estimation by her Lofs. But how fo? Did the King contribute to her Misfortunes? Nothing like it. Or did he not do all in his Power to prevent them? Yes; he married Bertram to her. We must certainly read therefore;

We loft a Jewel of her; our Eftate
Was made much poorer by it:

That's the certain Confequence of any one's lofing a Jewel, for their Eftate to be made proportionably poorer according to the Value of the Lofs.

Mr. Warburton.

As

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