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Clown. 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every .man.
Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two Atten
dants. Hel. But this exceeding posting, day and
night, Must wear your spirits low: we cannot help it; But; since you have made the days and nights
Enter a gentle Astringer.
sir, Gent. Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of
France. Gent, 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 occa"
sions, Which lay nice manners by, I put you to
God save you,
The use of your own virtues, for the which
Gent. What's your will ?
Hel. That it will please you To give this poor petition to the king; Andaid me with that store of power you havo, To come into his presence.
Gent. The king's not here. Hel. Not here, sir ?
Gent. Not, indeed : He hence remov'd last night, and with more
haste Than is his use.
Wid. 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 be gone?
Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon; Whither I am going.
Hel. I do beseech you, sir,
Gent. This I'll do for you.
thank'd, What-e'er falls more.-We must to horse again ;Go, go, provide.
SCENE II, Rousillon. The inner Caurt of the Count's Palace.
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, sir, muddy'd in fortune's mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.
Clown. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, 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, sir; I spake but by a metaphor.
Clown. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's me. taphor. Pr’ythee, get thee further. Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.
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 - čat,) 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, 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 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’écu 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 sooth ? and I was the first that lost thee.
Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for
did bring me out. Laf. 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 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 [Exeunt.]
S CE NE II 1.
A Room in the Count's Palace.
Flourish. Enter King, Countess, LAFEU, Lords, Gon
tlemen, Guards, etc.
Count 'Tis past, my liege :
When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, O'erbears 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: be lost a wife, Whose beauty did astonish the survey Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took cap
tive; 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
hither; We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill 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. [Exit Gentleman.) 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.