SCENE V. Rousillon.

A Room in the Countess's Palace.

Enter Countess, LAFEU, and Clown.

Laf. No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipttaffata fellow there; whose villanous saffron1 would have made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at this hour; and your son here at home, more advanced by the king, than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of.

Count. I would, I had not known him! it was the death of the most virtuous gentlewoman, that ever nature 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-marjoram of the salad, or rather the herb of

grace 2. 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 3.

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

1 It has been thought that there is an allusion here to the fashion of yellow starch for bands and ruffs, which was long prevalent and also to the custom of colouring paste with saffron. The plain meaning seems to be-that Parolles's vices were of such a colourable quality as to be sufficient to corrupt the inexperienced youth of a nation, and make them take the same hue. 2 i. e. rue.

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

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 bauble*, 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

as great a prince as you are.

Laf. Who's that? a Frenchman?

you, I can serve

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

4 The fool's bauble 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 belaboured those who offended him, or with whom he was inclined to make sport. The French call a bauble marotte, from Marionette.' The representation of several forms of it may be seen in Mr. Douce's Illustrations of Shakspeare. The covert allusion of the clown is not worth explaining.

5 The old copy reads maine.

6 Warburton thought we should read, 'honour'd;' but the Clown's allusion is double. To Edward the black prince, and to the prince of darkness. The presence of Edward was indeed hot in France: the other allusion is obvious.

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 nature.

Laf. A shrewd knave, and an unhappy3.

[Exit.

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 9, 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 self-gracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness hath promised me to do it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against your son, there is no fitter matter. How does your ladyship like it?

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

7 Steevens thinks with Sir T. Hanmer that we should read since.

8 i. e. mischievously waggish, unlucky.

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

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 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.

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.

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 10 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.

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

VOL. III.

F F

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;-

Enter a gentle Astringer1.

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?

1 i. e. a gentleman falconer, called in Juliana Barnes' Book of Huntyng, &c. Ostreger. The term is applied particularly to those that keep goshawks. Cowel, in his Law Dictionary, says that we usually call a falconer who keeps that kind of hawk an austringer. Nicot tell us that in the Salique Law the goshawk is called acceptor, from whence by contraction astor. Astringer is autrucier, and auturisier, in old French, and the goshawk is called austour and autour; in Italian astorre. In our old records asturcus, austurcus, osturcus, hostricus, and estricus.