Gent. This I'll do for you.

Hel. And you fhall find yourself to be well thank'd, We must to horse again.

What-e'er falls more.

Go, go, provide.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Changes to Roufillon.

Enter Clown, and Parolles.

OOD Mr. Levatch, give my Lord Lafet

Par. G this letter; I have ere now, Sir, been bet

6

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

Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but fluttish, if it fmell fo ftrongly as thou fpeak'ft 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.

6 In former editions,

but I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's Mood, and jmell Jomewhat firong of her ftreng difpleafare.] I believe the poet wrote, in fortune's moat; because the Clown in the very next fpeech replies, I will henceforth eat no fifh of fortune's butt'ring; and again, when he comes to repeat Parolles's petition to Lafeu, that hath 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

Laf.

or pond is the allufion. Befides, Parolles fmelling ftrong, as he fays, of fortune's strong difpleafure, carries on the fame image; for as the meats 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 Parelles is preffing him to deliver his letter to Lord Lafeu, Foh! pr'ythee, ftand away; a paper from fortune's clofestool, to give to a Nobleman! WARB.

frink,

Laf. Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor ftink, I will ftop my nose 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 fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat ;) that hath fall'n into the unclean fishpond of her displeasure, 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 diftrefs 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

7 Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor ftink, I will stop my nofe against any man's metaphor.] Nothing could be conceived with greater humour, or juftness of fatire, than this speech. The ufe of the flinking metaphor is an odious . fault, which grave writers often commit. It is not uncommon to fee moral declaimers against vice, defcribe her as Hefiod did the Fury Triftitia :

Τῆς ἐκ ρίνων μύξαι δέον. Upon which Longinus justly 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 trahet fimilitudo. Nola morte dici Africani caftratam effe rempublicam. Nolo ftercus curia d'ci 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 moft fqueamish reader.

WARBURTON.

8 I pity his difirefs in my MILES of comfort,] We should read, SIMILIES of comfort, fuch as the calling him fortune's cat, carp, Soc. WARBURTON.

the

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.

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 first that found

me.

Laf. Was I, in footh? 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 last night; tho' you are a fool and a knave, you fhall eat; go to, follow.

Par. I praife God for you.

9 you fhall eat;] Parolles has many of the lineaments of Falstaff, and feems to be the character which Shakespeare delighted to draw, a fellow that

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

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

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 fense to know Her estimation home. 2

Count. 'Tis paft, my Liege;

And I beseech your Majefty to make it
Natural rebellion, done i'th' blade of youth, '
When oil and fire, too ftrong for reafon'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 fhoot..

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,
Whose beauty did aftonish the furvey

Of richest eyes; whofe words all ears took captive;
Whose dear perfection, hearts, that fcorn'd to ferve,
Humbly call'd miftrefs.

1

King. Praifing what is loft,

-efleem] Dr. Warburton king of, is much poorer than be

home.] That is, completely, in its full extent.

in Theobald's edition altered this fore.
word to eftate, in his own he lets
it ftand and explains it by worth
or eftate. But efteem is here
reckoning or estimate. Since the
lofs of Helen with her virtues and
qualifications, our account is funk;
what we have to reckon ourselves

VOL. III.

3 blade of youth,] In the Spring of early life, when the man is yet green. Oil and fire fuit but ill with blade, and therefore Dr. Warburton reads, blaze of youth. C c

Makeş

Makes the remembrance dear. Well

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

call him

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 you fpoke?

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

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 season,
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,

kill

the firft view fball

All repetition: ] The firft interview fhall put an end to all recollection of the paft. ShakeSpeare is now haftening to the end of the play, finds his matter fufficient to fill up his remaining scenes, and therefore, as on other fuch occafions, contracts his dialogue and precipitates his action. Decency required that

Bertram's double crime of cruelty and difobedience, joined likewife with fome hypocrify, fhould raife more refentment; and that though his mother might easily forgive him, his king fhould more pertinaciously vindicate his own authority and He len's merit: of all this Shakespeare could not be ignorant, but ShakeSpeare wanted to conclude his play.

The