ture had praise for creating: if she had partaken of my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted love.

Laf. 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a thousand salads, ere we light on such another herb.

Clo. Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjorum of the salad, or rather the herb of grace.1

Laf. They are not salad-herbs, you knave; they are

nose-herbs.

Clo. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much skill in grass. 2

Laf. Whether dost thou profess thyself; a knave, or a fool?

Clo. A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's.

Laf. Your distinction ?

Clo. I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his service.

Laf. So you were a knave at his service, indeed. Clo. And I would give his wife my bawble,3 sir, to do her service.

Laf. I will subscribe for thee; thou art both knave and fool.

Clo. At your service.

Laf. No, no, no.

Clo. Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as great a prince as you are.

Laf. Who's that?

A Frenchman?

4

Clo. Faith, sir, he has an English name; but his phisnomy is more hotter in France, than there.

1 i. e. rue.

2 The old copy reads grace. The emendation is Rowe's; who also supplies the word salad in the preceding speech. The clown quibbles on grass and grace.

3 The fool's bawble was "a short stick ornamented at the end with the figure of a fool's head, or sometimes with that of a doll or puppet. To this instrument there was frequently annexed an inflated bladder, with which the fool belabored those who offended him, or with whom he was inclined to make sport. The French call a bawble, marotte, from Marionette."

4 The old copy reads maine.

Laf. What prince is that?

Clo. The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of darkness; alias, the devil.

Laf. Hold thee, there's my purse. I give thee not this to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest 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. I am 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 looked 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 [Exit.

nature.

Laf. A shrewd knave and an unhappy.2

Count. So he is. My lord, that's gone, made himself 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.

3

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 self-gracious remembrance, did first propose. His highness hath promised me to do it; and, to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived

1 Steevens thinks, with Sir T. Hanmer, that we should read since. 2 i. e. mischievously waggish, unlucky.

3 No pace, i. e. no prescribed course; he has the unbridled liberty of a fool.

against your son, there is no fitter matter. your ladyship like it?

How does

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 numbered thirty; he will be here to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such intelligence hath seldom failed.

Count. It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I die. I have letters that my son will be here tonight 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.

Count. You need but plead your honorable privilege.

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 honor; so, belike, is that.

Clo. But it is your carbonadoed1 face.

Luf. 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.

1 Carbonadoed is "slashed over the face in a manner that fetcheth the flesh with it," metaphorically from a carbonado or collop of meat.

ACT V.

SCENE I. Marseilles. A Street.

Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two Attend

ants.

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;-

Enter a gentle Astringer.1

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?

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.

Gent.

Not here, sir?

Not, indeed :

1 i. e. a gentleman falconer, called in Juliana Barnes's Book of Huntyng, &c. Ostreger. The term is applied particularly to those that keep goshawks.

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 seems 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.1

Gent.

This I'll do for you.

Hel. And you shall find yourself to be well thanked, We must to horse again;

Whate'er falls more.

Go, go, provide.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. Rousillon. The inner Court of the Countess's Palace.

Enter Clown and PAROlles.

Par. Good monsieur Lavatch,2 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 mood,3 and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.

Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell so strong as thou speakest of: I will hence

1 i. e. "they will follow with such speed as the means which they have will give them ability to exert."

2 Perhaps a corruption of La Vache.

3 Warburton changed mood, the reading of the old copy, to moat, and was followed and defended by Steevens; but the emendation appears unnecessary. Fortune's mood is several times used by Shakspeare for the whimsical caprice of fortune.