Gen. And you. Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. Gen. I have been sometimes there. Hel. I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen From the report that goes upon your goodness; And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, Which lay nice manners by, I put you to The use of your own virtues, for the which I shall continue thankful. Gen. What's your will? Hel. That it will please you To give this poor petition to the king, And aid me with that store of power you have, To come into his presence. Gen. The king's not here. Hel. Gen. Not here, sir? Not, indeed: He hence removed last night, and with more haste Than is his use. Wi. Lord, how we lose our pains! Hel. All's well that ends well, yet; Though time seem so adverse, and means unfit.— I do beseech you, whither is he gone? Gen. Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon, Whither I am going. Hel. I do beseech you, sir, Since you are like to see the king before me, Our means will make us means. Gen. This I'll do for you. Hel. And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd, Whate'er falls more.-We must to horse again ; Go, go, provide. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Rousillon. The inner court of the Countess's palace. Enter CLOWN and PAROLLES. Par. Good monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu this letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in Fortune's mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure. Clown. Truly, Fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell so strong as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat no fish of Fortune's buttering. Pr'ythee, allow the wind.1 Par. Nay, you need not stop your nose, sir; I spake but by a metaphor. Clown. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor. Pr'ythee, get thee farther. Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. SHAK. 1 Stand to the leeward of me. V. H Clown. Foh, pr'ythee, stand away! A paper from Fortune's close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself. Enter LAFEU. Here is a pur of Fortune's, sir, or of Fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat) that has fallen into the unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal. Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, and leave him to your lordship. [Exit Clown. Par. My lord, I am a man whom Fortune hath cruelly scratched. La. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with Fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu1 for you. Let the justices make you and Fortune friends: I am for other business. Par. I beseech your honor, to hear me one single word. La. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't: save your word. Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles. 1 Worth about eight-pence of our money. La. You beg more than one word then.-Cox' my passion! give me your hand.-How does your drum? Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found me. La. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee. Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring me out. La. Out upon thee, knave! dost 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. [trumpets sound.] The king's coming, I know, by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire farther after me: I had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat: go to; follow. Par. I praise God for you. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. A room in the Countess's palace. Florish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, Lords, Gentlemen, Guards, &c. King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem 1 Was made much poorer by it: but your son, As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know Her estimation home.2 Reckoning or estimate. 2 Completely, in its full extent. Count. 'Tis past, my liege: And I beseech your majesty to make it Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth; King. My honor'd lady, I have forgiven and forgotten all; Though my revenges were high bent upon him. La. Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive; King. Praising what is lost, Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither : We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill All repetition.1-Let him not ask our pardon; 1 Recollection. |
