Page images



Enter Clown and Parolles. Par. Good Mr. 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, fir, muddy'd in fortune's moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.

Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but Nuttish, if it smell so strongly as thou speak’st of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. Prythee, ' allow the wind.

Par. Nay, you need not to stop your nose, fir ; I spake but by a metaphor.

Clo. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prythee, get thee further.

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

Clo. Foh! prythee, 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, fir, 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 muddy'd withal : Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decay'd, ingenious, foolish, rafcally

[ocr errors]

muddy'd in fortune's moat, ]—fortune's mood under the frowns of fortune. i allow the wind. 1-stand to windward of me. k pur of fortune's, ]-kitten-puss.

knave. I do pity his distress in 'my similies of comfort, and leave him to your lordship.

[Exit Clown. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratch'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 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'ecu for you: Let the

justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business.

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

Laf. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't ; save your word. Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles.

Laf. 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.
Laf. Was I, in footh ? 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.

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: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you.


my fimilies of comfort, -those comfortable epithets which I have just bestowed upon him (ironically)-in my smiles.

m one word eben.)- Parolles-words.


S CE NE III. Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafeu, Lords, Attend

ants, &C.


King. We loft a jewel of her; and our esteem
Was made much poorer by it: but your son,
As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know
• Her estimation home.

Count. 'Tis paft, my liege :
And I beseech your majesty to make it
Natural rebellion, done i' the P blaze of youth ;
When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
Oerbears it, and burns on.

King. My honour'd lady,
I have forgiven and forgotten all :
Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
And watch'd the time to shoot.

Laf. This I must say, -
But first I beg my pardon,-The young lord
Did to his majesty, his mother, and his lady,
Offence of mighty note; but to himself
The greatest wrong of all: he loft a wife,
Whose beauty did astonish the survey
Of 9 richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive;
Whose dear perfection, hearts that scorn'd to serve,
Humbly call'd mistress.

King. Praising what is lost,
Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hi-

ther ;We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill

n our effeem]-our own dignity suffered through Bertram's misconduct. Her estimation home. ]—The full extent of her worth. p blade. 9 richef]-most discerning.


All' repetition : Let him not ask our pardon; .
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion we do bury
The incensing relicks of it: let him approach,
• A stranger, no offender; and inform him,
So 'tis our will he should.

Gent. I shall, my liege.
King. What says he to your daughter? have you spoke?
Laf. All that he is hath reference to your highness.
King. Then shall we have a match. I have letters

sent me,
That set him high in fame.

Enter Bertram.
Laf. He looks well on't.

King. I am not 'a day of season,
For thou may'st see a sun-fhine and a hail
In me at once : But to the brightest beams
Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth,
The time is fair again.

Ber. My " high-repented blames,
Dear sovereign, pardon to me.

King. All is whole;
Not one word more of the consumed time.
Let's take the instant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
The inaudible and noiseless foot of time
Steals, ere we can effect them: You remember
The daughter of this lord ?

Ber. Admiringly, my liege : at first
I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart

' repetition:]—recollection of what is paft.

A stranger, no offender ;]~As though I was unacquainted with his guilt. ' a day of seafon, ]-made up altogether of fair weather. bigh-repented ]-deeply, fincerely.


Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue :
Where the impression of mine eye enfixing,
Contempt his fcornful perspective did lend me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour:
* Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it ftol'n ;
Extended or contracted all proportions,
To a most hideous object: Thence it came,
That she, whom all men prais'd, and whom myself,
Since I have lost, have lov'd, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.

King. Well excus'd:
That thou dost love her, strikes fome scores away
From the great compt: But love, that comes too late,
Like a remorseful pardon Nowly carried,
To the great sender turns a sour offence,
Crying, That's good that's gone : our rash faults
Make trivial price of serious things we have,
Not knowing them until we know their grave:
Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
Destroy our friends, and after weep their duft :

Our old love waking cries to see what's done,
While shameful hate neeps out the afternoon.
Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her.
Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin;
The main consents are had; and here we'll stay
To see our widower's second marriage-day.

Count. Which better than the first, О dear heaven bless! Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cease!

Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my houfe's name Must be digested, give a favour from you,


w warp'd the line of every other favour : )-distorted the features of every other face,

* Scorn'd a fair colour, or expressd. it ftol'n ;]—Taught me to treat disdainfully, or ascribe to art, the faireft complexions.

T Our own.

« PreviousContinue »