A CT V. SCENE, the Court of France, at Marseilles. Enter Helena, Widow, and Diana, with two Attendants. B H E L E N A. Muft wear your Ipirits low; we cannot help it. But since you've made the days and nights as one, Enter a Gentleman, Gent. And you. Hel. I do presume, Sir, that you are not fallen your will? Gent. The King's not here. Gent. 1 Gert. Not, indeed. Wid. Lord, how we lose our pains ! Hel. All's well, that ends well yet, Gen. Marry, as I take it, to Roufillon, Hel. I beseech you, Sir, Gent. This I'll do for you. Hel. And you shall find your self to be well thank'd, What-e'er falls more. We must to horse again. Go, go, provide. [Exeunt. SCEN E changes to Rousillon. Enter Clown, and Parolles. Par. OOD Mr. Levatch, give my Lord Lafeu this letter; I have ere now, Sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher cloaths ; (23) but I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure. Cla. G (23) But I am now, Sir, muddied in Fortune's Mood, and smelt somewhat strong of her strong Displeasure.] Fortune's Mood is, without Question, good Sense, and very proper : and yet I verily believe, the Poet wrote as I have restor'd in ihe Text; in Foriune's Moat: because the Clown in the very next Speech replies, I will henceforth eat no Filh of Fortune's buttering, and agaio, when he comes to repeat Parolles's Petition to Lafeuthat hath fall'n into the unclean Fishpond of her Displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied wirbal. And again, Pray you, Siro use the Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but fluttish, if it smell so strongly as thou speak'st of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's butt'ring. Pr'ythee, allow the wind. Par. Nay, you need not to stop your nose, Sir ; I fpake but by a metaphor. Clo. Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose against any man's metaphor. Pry'thee, get thee further. Par. Pray you, Sir, deliver me this paper. Clo. Foh! prythee, stand away ; a paper from fortune's close-itool, to give to a Nobleman! look, here he comes himself. Enter Lafeu. Here is a pur of fortune's, Sir, or fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat;) that hath fall’n into the unclean fish pond 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, ralcally knave. (24) I do pity his diftress in my fimilies of comfort, and leave him to your Lordfhip. Par. My Lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratch'd. the Carp as you may, &c. In all which Places, 'cis obvious, a Moat, or Pond, is the Allusion. Besides, Parolles smelling strong, as he says, of Fortune's strong Displeasure, carries on the same Image: For as the Monts round old Seats were always replenift'd with Fish, so the Clown's joke of holding his Nose, we may presume, proceeded from This -because la Chambre base was always over the Moat: and therefore the Clown humourously says, when Parolles is presling him to deliver his Letter to Lord Lafcu. -Foh! po'yihee, stand away: A Paper from Fortune's Closeftool, to give to a Nobleman! (24) I do pity his Distress in my Smiles of comfort,] This very humourous Passage my Friend Mr. Warburton rescued from Nonsense most happily, by the Insertion of a single Letter, in the Manner I have reform'd the Text. These Similies of Comfort are ironically meant by the Clown; as much as to say, you may perceive, how much I think he deserves Comfort, by my calling him Fortune's Cat, Carp, rascally Knave, &c. Laf. Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too Jate to pare her nails now. Wherein have you play'd the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of her self is a good Lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her ? there's a Quart-d'ecu for you: lec 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 fall ha't, save 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 me. Laf. Was I, insooth ? and I was the first, that loft thee. Par. It lyes in you, my Lord, to bring me in some grace, for you 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. [Sound Trumpets.] The King's coming, i know, by his trum· pets. Sirrah, inquire further after me, I had talk of you last night; tho you are a fool and a knave, you fall eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you, [Exeunt. Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafeu, the two French Lords, with attendants. As (25) ony Efteem Was made much poorer by it : --) What's the Meaning of the King's Efteem being made poorer by the Loss of Helen? I think, it can only be understood in one Sense; and that Sense won't carry Water: i. e. We fuffer'd in our Enimation by her Lorse As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know Count. 'Tis paft, my Liege ; King. My honour'd Lady, Laf. This I must say, King. Praising what is loft, hither ; Gent. I shall, my Liege. Loss. But how to: Did the King contribute to her Misfortunes? Nothing like it. Or did he not do all in his Power to prevent them? Yes; he married Bertram to her. We must certainly read therefore; We lost a Jewel of her ; our Eftate Was made much poorer by it : Thu's the certain Consequence of any one's losing a Jewel, for their Eftate to be made proportionably poorer according 10 the Value of the Loss. Mr. Warburt un. |