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I tell thee fo before, becaufe I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways, let my horfes be well look'd to, without any tricks.

Clo. If I put any tricks upon 'em, they fhall be jades tricks, which are their own right by the law of nature. [Exit.

Laf. A fhrewd knave, and an unhappy.

Count. So he is. My Lord that's gone made himself much fport out of him; by his authority he remains here, which he thinks is a patent for his fawcinefs; and indeed he has no place, but runs where he will.

5

Laf. I like him well, 'tis not amifs, and I was about to tell you, fince I heard of the good Lady's death, and that my Lord your fon was upon his return home, I mov'd the King my mafter to speak in the behalf of my daughter; which in the minority of them both, his Majefty, out of a felf-gracious remembrance, did first propofe; his Highnefs hath promis'd me to do it; and to ftop up the displeasure he hath conceiv'd against your fon, there is no fitter matter. How do's your Ladyfhip like it? Count. With very much content, my Lord, and I wish it happily effected.

Laf. His Highness comes poft from Marseilles, 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 fon 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 fon with a

5 pace;

patch

patch of velvet on's face; whether there be a fcar 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, his but 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 carbinado'da face.

Laf. Let us go 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 moft courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every man.

[Exeunt.

ACT V.
V.

SCENE I.

MARSEILLES.

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

HELENA.

UT this exceeding posting day and night
Muft wear your spirits 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.

(a) A quibble is here intended from a wound given with a Carabine.

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 prefence.

Gent. The King's not here.

Hel. Not here, Sir?

Gent. Not indeed.

He hence remov'd laft 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 feem fo adverfe, and means unfit:
I do befeech 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,
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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

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Par.
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ROUSILLON.

Enter Clown and Parolles.

Ood Mr. Levatch, give my lord Lafeu this let ter; I have ere now, Sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher cloaths; but I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's

moat, and fmell fomewhat ftrong of her ftrong difpleasure.

Clo. Truly fortune's difpleafure is but fluttish, if it fmell fo ftrongly as thou speak'ft of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's butt'ring. Pry'thee, allow the

wind.

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

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

further.

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

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

Enter Lafeu.

Clo. 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, 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 fimilies of comfort, and leave him to your Lordship.

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

6 mood, old edit. Warb. emend.

to

to pare her nails now. Wherein have you play'd the knave with fortune, that fhe fhould fcratch you, who of her felf 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: come, you shall 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. The King's coming, I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me, I had talk of you laft night; tho' you are a fool and a knave, you fhall eat; go to, follow.

Par. I praise God for

you.

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[Exeunt.

Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafeu, the two French
Lords, with Attendants.

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 fenfe to know
Her eftimation home.

Count. 'Tis paft, my Liege;

And I beseech your Majefty to make it
Natural rebellion, done i'th' 7'blaze` of youth,
VOL. II.

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.. old edit. Theob, emend.

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