not this to suggest thee from thy master thou talk'st of; serve him still.

Clo. I am a woodland fellow, Sir, that always loved a great fire; and the master I speak of, ever keeps a good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the world, let his nobility remain in his court.

for the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pomp to enter: some, that humble themselves, may; but the many will be too chill and tender; and they'll be for the flowery 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 so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways; let my horses be well look'd to, without any tricks.

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

Laf. A shrewd knave, and an unhappy.

Count. So he is. My lord, that's gone, made him self much sport out of him: by his authority he remains here, which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will.

Laf. I like him well; 'tis not amiss: and I was about to tell you. Since I heard of the good lady's death, and that my lord your son was upon his return home, I moved the king my master, to speak in the behalf of my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, his majesty, out of a selfgracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness hath promised me to do it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against your sen, there is no fitter matter. How does your ladyship like it?

Count. With very much content, my lord, and I wish it happily effected.

Laf. His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able body as when he number'd thirty; he will be here to-niorrow, or I am deceived by him that in such intelligence hath seldom fail'd.

Count. It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I die. I have letters, that my son 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 safely be admitted.

• Mischievously unhappy, waggish.

Count. You need but plead your honourable pri vilege.

Laf. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but, I thank my God, it holds yet.

Re-enter CLOWN.

Clo. O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under it, 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. Laf. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour: so, belike, is that.

Clo. But it is your carbonadoed⚫ face.

Laf. Let us go see your son, I pray you; I long to talk with the young noble soldier.

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. [Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I-Marseilles.-A Street.

Enter HELENA, WIDOW, and DIANA, with two
Attendants.

Hel. But this exceeding posting, day and night,
Must wear your spirits low: we cannot help it;
But, since you have made the days and nights as

one,

To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,

Be bold, you do so grow in my requital,
As nothing can unroot you. In happy time ;-

time;—

Enter a gentle ASTRINGER †.

This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
If he would spend his power.-God save you, Sir.
Gent. And you.

Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.
Gent. I have been sometimes there.

Hel. I do presume, Sir, that you are not fallen From the report that goes upon your goodness And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions Which lay nice manners by, I put you to The use of your own virtues, for the which I shall continue thankful.

Gent. What's your will?

Scotched like a piece of meat for the gridiron.
A gentleman falconer.

VOL. II.

N n

Hel. That it will please you

To give this poor petition to the king;

And aid me with that store of power you have,

To come into his presence.

Gent. The king's not here.

Hel. Not here, Sir?

Gent. Not, indeed:

He hence removed 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;

Though time seem so adverse, and means unfit.-
I do beseech you, whither is he gone?

Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon;
Whither I am going.

Hel. I do beseech you, Sir,

Since you are like to see the king before me,
Commend the paper to his gracious hand;
Which, I presume, shall 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 shall find yourself to be well.

thank'd,

Whate'er falls more.-We must to horse again;
Go, go, provide.

[Exeunt. SCENE II.-Rousillon.-The inner Court of the COUNTESS's Palace.

Enter CLOWN and PAROLLES.

Par. Good monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu this letter: I have ere now, Sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong dis pleasure.

Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smells so strong as thou speak'st of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. Pr'ythee, allow the wind.

Par. Nay, you need not stop your nose, Sir; I spake but by a metaphor.

Clo. Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or 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-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself.

Enter LAFEU.

Here is a pur of fortune's, Sir, or of fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat,) that has fallen 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, decay'd, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, and leave him to your lordship. [Exit Clown.

Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratch'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 she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d'cou for you: let 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 shall ha't; save your word.

Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles.

Laf. You beg more than one word then.-Cox' my passion! Give me your hand :-How does your drum?

Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found me.

Laf. Was I, in sooth? And I was the first that lost thee.

Par. It lies 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. [Trumpets sound.] The king's coming, I know by his trumpets.-Sirrah, inquire further after me; I had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you.

[Exeunt. SCENE III.—The same.-A Room in the COUNTESS'S Palace.

Flourish.-Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, LORDS, GENTLEMEN, Guards, &c.

King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem

Was made much poorer by it: but your son,
As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know
Her estimation home.

Count. 'Tis past, my liege;

And I beseech your majesty to make it
Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze 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;

Though 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 majesty, his mother, and his lady,
Offence of mighty note: but to himself
The greatest wrong of all: he lost a wife,
Whose beauty did astonish the survey

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

King. Praising what is lost,

Makes the remembrance dear.-Well, call him —Well, call him

hither;

We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill

All repetition +:-Let him not ask our pardon;
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion do we bury
The incensing relics of it: let him approach,
A stranger, no offender; and inform him,
So 'tis our will he should.

Gent. I shall, my liege.

[Exit Gentleman. King. What says he to your daughter? Have you spoke ?

[ness.

Laf. All that he is hath reference to your high. King. Then shall we have a match. I have letters.

sent me.

That set him high in fame.

Enter BERTRAM.

Laf. He looks well on't.

King. I am not a day of season ‡,

So in As you like it to have seen much and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor

hands.'

ti. e. The first interview shall put an end to all recollection of the past.

e. Of uninterrupted rain.