S C E NE II.

Changes to Roufillon.

Enter Clown, and Parolles.

Par.G this letters I have ere now, Sir, been better

OOD Mr. Levatch, give my Lord Lafeu

known to you, when I have held familiarity with. fresher cloaths; but I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's moat, and smell fomewhat ftrong of her ftrong displeasure.

Clo. Truly, fortune's difpleasure is but fluttish, if it smell fo ftrongly as thou fpeak'ft of: I will henceforth eat no fifh of fortune's butt'ring. Pr'ythee, allow the wind.

Par. Nay, you need not to ftop your nofe, Sir; I fpake but 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.

1 but I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's Mood, and sme!! fomewhat frong of her firong difpleasure.] I believe the poet wrote, in fortune's moat; becaule the Clown in the very next speech replies, I will henceforth cat no filh of fortune's butt'ring; and again, when he comes to repeat Parolles's petition to Lafeu, that bath fall'n into the unclean fishpond of her difpleasure, and, as he fays, 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 strong, as he fays, of fortune's ftrong difpleasure, 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 humouroufly fays, when Parolles is preffing him to deliver his letter to Lord Lafe, Fob! pr'ythee, ftand away; a paper from fortune's clofeftool, to give to a Nobleman!

z Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor flink, I will flop my nofe against any man's metaphor. Nothing could be conceived with greater hus mour, or juftnefs of fatire, than this fpeech. The ufe of the VOL. III.

H

Linking

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

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

Enter Lafeu.

LA

Here is a pur of fortune's, Sir, or fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat ;) that hath fall'n into the unclean fishpond of her difpleafure, and, as he fays, is muddied withal. Pray you, Sir, ufe the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rafcally knave. I do pity his diftress 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 to pare her nails now. Wherein have you play'd the knave with fortune, that fhe 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 business.

Alinking metaphors is an odious fault, which grave writers often commit. It is not uncommon to fee moral declaimers against vice, defcribe her as Heftod did the Fury Triftitia:

Τῆς ἐκ ῥίνων μύξαι ῥέον.

Upon which Longinus juftlý obferves, that, inftead of giving a terrible image, he has given a very nafty one. Cicero cautions well against it, in his book de Orat. Quoniam hæc, fays he, vel fumma laus eft in verbis transferendis ut fenfum feriat id, quod tranflatum fit, fugienda eft omnis turpitudo earum rerum, ad quas eorum animos qui audiunt trabet fimilitudo. Nola morte dici Africani caftratam eje rempubli cam. Nolo ftercus curia dici Glauciam. Our poet himself is extremely delicate in this refpect; who, throughout his large writings, if you except a paffage in Hamlet, has fcarce a metaphor that can offend the molt fqueamish reader.

31 pity his diftrefs in my SMILES of comfort,] We should read, SIMILIES of comfort, fuch as the calling him fortune's cat, carp, &C.

Par.

Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one fingle word.

Laf. You beg a fingle penny more: come, you 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 firft that found me.

Laf. Was I, infooth? 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. [Sound Trumpets.] 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 praife God for you.

S CE NE III.

[Exeunt

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

4

King. We loft a jewel of her, our esteem Was made much poorer by it; but your fon, As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know Her eftimation home.

Count. 'Tis paft, my Liege;

And I beseech your Majefty to make it

aur esteem] Efteem is here ufed for eftimation, in the

fenfe of zwarth, eftate.

s Natural rebellion, done i'th' blade of youth, 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;

Tho' 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 Majefty, his mother, and his lady,
Offence of mighty note; but to himself
The greatest wrong of all. He loft a wife,
Whofe beauty did aftonifh the survey

Of richeft eyes; whose words all ears took captive;
Whofe dear perfection, hearts, that scorn'd to serve,
Humbly call'd mistress.

King, Praifing what is loft,

Makes the remembrance dear. Well call him hither;"

We're reconcil'd, and the firft view fhall kill
All repetition: let him not ask our pardon.
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion we do bury
Th' incenfing relicks of it. Let him approach,
A ftranger, no offender; and inform him,
So 'tis our will he should.

Gent. I fhall, my Liege.

King. What fays he to your daughter? Have fpoke?

you

Laf. All, that he is, hath reference to your Highness.

5 Natural rebellion, done i'th' BLADE of youth,] The whole figure here employ'd fhews we should read,

ith BLAZE of youth,

i. e. in fervour, flame. So in Troilus and Creffida,

For Hector, in bis blaze of wrath, subscribes
To tender objects

King. Then fhall we have a match. I have letters

fent me,

That fet him high in fame.

SCENE IV.

Enter Bertram.

Laf. He looks well on't.

King. I'm not a day of feason,

For thou may'ft fee a fun-fhine and a hail
In me at once; but to the brightest beams
Distracted clouds give way; fo ftand thou forth,
The time is fair again.

Ber. My high repented blames,
Dear Sovereign, pardon to me..
King. All is whole,

Not one word more of the confumed time,
Let's take the inftant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick'ft decrees
Th' inaudible and noifelefs foot of time
Steals, ere we can effect them. You remember
The daughter of this Lord?
Ber. Admiringly, my Liege. At first
I ftuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
Durft make too bold a herald of my tongue:
Where the impreffion of mine eye enfixing,
Contempt his fcornful perfpective did lend me,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
Scorch'd a fair colour, or exprefs'd it ftoll'n;
Extended

6 SCORN'D a fair colour, or exprefs'd it foll'n;] Firf, it is to be obferved, that this young man's cafe was not indifference to the fex in general, but a very strong attachment to one; therefore he could not fcorn a fair colour, for it was that which had captivated him. But he might very naturally be faid to do what men, strongly attach'd to one, commonly do, not allow beauty in any face but his mistress's. And that this was the thought here, is evident, 1. From

H 3