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Clo. Why, Sir, if I cannot ferve you, I can ferve as great a Prince as you are.

Laf. Who's that, a Frenchman?

Clo. Faith, Sir, he has an English name; but his 'phifnomy is more hotter in France than there. Laf. What Prince is that?

Clo. The black Prince, Sir, alias the Prince of Darknets, alias the Devil.

Laf. Hold thee, there's my purfe; I give thee not this to feduce thee from thy Mafter thou talk'ft of, ferve him ftill.

Clo. I'm a woodland fellow, Sir, that always lov❜d a great fire; and the Mafter I fpeak of ever keeps a good fire; but, fure, he is the Prince of the world, let his Nobility remain in's Court. I am for the House with the narrow gate, which I take to be too little for Pomp to enter: fome, that humble themfelves, may; but the many will be too chill and tender, and they'll be for the flow'ry way that leads to the broad gate, and the great fire.

Laf. Go thy ways, I begin to be a weary of thee, and I tell thee fo before, because 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.

'his phis'nomy is more HOTTER in France than there.] This is intolerable nonfente. The ftupid Editors, because the Devil was talked of, thought no quality would fuit him but hotter. We should read,—more HONOUR'D. A joke upon the French people, as if they held a dark complexion, which is natural to them, in more eftimation than the English do,

who are generally white and fair.
WARBURTON

2 I'm a woodland feller, Sir, &c.] Shakespear is but rately guilty of fuch impious trash. And it is obfervable, that the he always puts that into the mouth of his fools, which is now grown the characteristic of the fine gentleman.

WARBURTON.

Laf

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Laf. A fhrewd knave, and an 3 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 fawciness; and, indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will.

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 Son was upon his return home, I mov'd the King my Master to speak in the behalf of my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, his Majesty, out of a felf-gracious remembrance, did firft propofe; his Highness has promis'd me to do it; and to ftop up the difpleasure 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 fhall befeech 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 patch of velvet on's face; whether there be a fcar

Unhappy.] That is, mischievously haggish; unlucky.

under't,

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 fcar, is a good livery of honour. So, belike, is that.

4

Clo. But it is your carbonado'd 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 most courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every man.

ACT V.

B

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

The Court of France, at Marseilles.

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

HELEN a.

UT this exceeding pofting day and night Muft wear your fpirits 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,

4 But it is your carborado'd face.] Mr. Pope reads it carbinad'd, which is right. The joke, fuch as it is, confifts in the allufion to a wound made with a

carabine; arms, which Henry IV. had made famous, by bringing into ufe amongst his horse.

WARBURTOS.

If he would fpend his power. God fave you, Sir,
Gent. And you.

Hel. Sir, I have feen you in the court of France.
Gen. I have been fometimes there.

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 ufe.

Wid. Lord, how we lose our pains!

Hel. All's well, that ends well yet,
Tho' time feems fo adverfe, and means unfit :
I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Roufillon,
Whither I am going.

Hel. I befeech you, Sir,

Since you are like to fee the King before me,
Commend this 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
s Our means will make us means.

5 Our means will make us means.] Shakespeare delights much in this kind of reduplication, fometimes fo as to

4

Helena

obfcure his meaning.
fays, they will follow with fuch
freed as the means which they have
will give them ability to exert.

Gent.

Gent. This I'll do for you.

Hel. And you fhall find yourself to be well thank'd, What-e'er falls more. We muft to horfe again. Go, go, provide.

Par.

G

SCENE II.

Changes to Roufillon.

Enter Clown, and Parolles.

[Exeunt.

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 frefher cloaths; but I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's moat, and smell fomewhat ftrong of her ftrong displeasure.

Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it fmell fo ftrongly as thou speak'ft of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's butt'ring. Pr'ythee, allow the wind.

Par. Nay, you need not to ftop your nose, Sir; I fpeak but by a metaphor.

• In former editions,

but I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's Mood, and smell fomer hat strong of her ft ong difpleasure.] I believe the poet wrote, in fortune's moat; because the Clown in the very next fpeech replies, I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's butt'ring; and again, when he comes to repeat Parolle's petition to Lafeu, that bath fall'n into the unclean fifhpond of her difpleasure, and, as be Jays, is muddied withal. And again, Pray you, Sir, ufe the carp as you may, &c. In all which places, 'tis obvious a moat

or pond is the allufion. Befides, Parelles fmelling ftrong, as he fays, of fortune's ftrong difpleafure, carries on the fame image; for as the moats 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 therefore the Clown humourously fays, when Parolles is preffing him to deliver his letter to Lord Lefeu, Fob! prythie, ftand away; a paper from fortune's closeftool, give to a Nobleman!

to

WARE.

Laf.

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