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Cio. O madam, yonder's my lord your fon 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 fee your fon, I pray you; I long to talk with the young noble foldier.
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,
A CT V. SCENE I.
The court of France at Marfeilles.
Enter Helena, Widow, and Diana, with two Attendants, HELENA.
UT this exceeding pofting, day and night
Muft wear your fpirits low: we cannot help it; But fince you have made the days and nights as one, To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
Be bold, you do fo grow in my requital,
But it is your carbonado'd face.] Mr. Pope reads it carbinado'd, which is right. The joke, fuch as it is, confifts in the alJufion to a wound, made with a carabine; arms, which Henry IV. had made famous, by bringing into ufe amongft his horfe. WARBURTON. Carbonade'd means fcotched like a piece of meat for the gridion, and is, I believe, the true reading. STEEVENS.
As nothing can unroot you.
In happy time,
Enter a Gentleman 7.
This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
If he would spend his power.
Gent. And you.
God fave you, fir.
Hel. Sir, I have feen you in the court of France. Gen. I have been fometimes there.
Hel. I do prefume, fir, that you are not fallen From the report that goes upon your goodness; And, therefore, goaded with most sharp occafions Which lay nice manners by, I put you to The use 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;
Gent. The King's not here,
Hel. Not here, fir?
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;
Tho' time seems fo adverfe, and means unfit.-
Whither I am going.
Hel. I beseech you, fir,
Since you are like to fee the King before me,
"Enter a gentleman.] Inftead of this notice of the entry of a gentleman, the folio fays,
Enter a gentle Aftringer.
Perhaps a gentle firanger, i. e. a stranger of gentle condition, a
Commend this paper to his gracious hand;
Gent. This I'll do for you.
Hel. And you fhall find yourself to be well thank'd, What-e'er falls more. We must to horse again. Go, go, provide.
Enter Clown and Parolles.
Par. Good Mr. Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu this letter: I have ere now, fir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes: 9 but I am now, fir, muddied in fortune's
8 Our means will make us means.]
Shakespeare delights much in this kind of reduplication, fome times fo as to cbicure his meaning. Helena fays, they will follow with such speed as the means which they have will give them ability to exert. JOHNSON.
9 In former editions,
—but I am now, fir, muddied in fortune's mood, and smell feme‐ what firing of her fireng difpliojure.] I believe the poet wrote, in fortune's moat; becaute the clown in the very next speech replies, I will henceforth cat no fish of fortune's butt'ring; and again, when he comes to repeat Parolles's petition to Lafeu, that bath fall'n into th unclean fithpond of her difpleasure, and, as be fays, is muddied witha!. And again, Pray you, fir, use the carp as you may, &c. In all which places, 'tis obvious a moat or a pond is the allufion. Befides, Parolles fmelling ftrong, as he fays, of fortune's ftrong difpleafure, carries on the fame image; for as the mats round old feats were always replenish'd with fish, fo the Clown's joke of holding his nofe, we may prefume, proceeded from this, that the privy was always over the moat; and there, fore the clown humouroufly fays, when Parolles is preffing him
moat, and smell fomewhat ftrong of her ftrong dif pleasure.
Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but fluttish, if it fell fo ftrongly as thou speak'ft of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. Pr'ythee, allow the wind.
. Par. Nay, you need not to stop your nofe, fir; I fpeak but by a metaphor.
Cle. Indeed, fir, if your metaphor ftink, I will top my nofe; or against any man's 'metaphor. Pr'ythee, get thee further.
Par. Pray you, fir, deliver me this paper.
Clo. Foh! pr'ythee, ftand away; a paper from fortune's close tool, to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself.
Here is a pur of fortune's, fir, or fortune's cat, (but not a mufk cat) that hath fallen into the unclean fish
to deliver his letter to lord Lafeu, Foh! pr'ythee, ftand away; a paper from fortune's clofeftool, to give to a nobleman?
Indeed, fir, if your metaphor fink, I will frep my nose against any man's metaphor.] Nothing could be conceived with greater humour, or juftnefs of fatire, than this fpeech. The ufe of the finking metathor is an odious fault, which grave writers often It is not uncommon to fee moral declaimers against vice, describe her as Hefiod did the fury Tristitia :
Τῆς ἐκ ῥίνων μύξαι ῥέον.
Upon which Longinus juftly obferves, that, instead of giving a terrible image, he has given a very nafly one. Cicero cautions well against it, in his book de Orat. Quoniam bec, fays he, vl fumma laus eft in verbis transferendis ut fenfum feriat id, quod tranflatum fit, fugienda eft omnis turpitudo earum rerum, ad quas eorum animes qui audiunt trahet fimilitudo. Nolo morte dici Afri ani caAratam fe rempublicam. Nolo ftercus curiæ dici Glauciam. Our poet himself is extremely delicate in this refpect; who, throughput his large writings, if you except a paffage in Hamlet, has Scarce a metaphor that can offend the most fqueamish reader.
pond of her difpleasure, and, as he fays, is muddied withal. Pray you, fir, ufe the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decay'd, ingenious, foolish, rafcally knave. I do pity his diftrefs in my fmiles of comfort, and leave him to your lordship.
[Exit Clown. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly 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 herself is a good lady, and would not have 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 bufinefs.
Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one fingle word.
Laf. You beg a fingle penny more. 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 first that found
Laf. Was I, in footh? and I was the firft that loft thee.
Par. It lies 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.
I pity bis diftrefs in my SMILES of comfort,] We should read, SIMILIES of comfort, fuch as the calling him fortune's cat, carp, WARBURTON.
The meaning is, I teftify my pity for his diftrefs, by encouraging him with a gracious fmile. The old reading may stand.