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youth of a nation in his colour. Your daughter-inlaw had been alive at this hour; and your son here at home, more advanc'd by the King than by that redtail'd 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 fallets ere we light on such another herb.
Clo. Indeed, Sir, she was the sweet-marjoram of the fallet, or rather the herb of grace.
Laf. They are not fallet herbs, you knave, they are nose-herbs.
Clo. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, Sir, I have not much skill in grass.
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.
Cló. 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.
temper and disposition. Here.
the warden Pyes. the general custom of that time,
WARBURTON. of colouring paste with saffron, is 9 I would, I had not known alluded to. So in the Winter's bim.] This dialogue ferves to Tele :
connect the incidents of Parolles I must have fuffron to colour with the main plan of the play.
Clo. Why, Sir, if I cannot serve you,
I can serve as great a Prince as you are.
Laf. Who's that, a Frenchman ?
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 seduce thee from thy Mafter thou talk'st of, serve him ftill.
Clo. · I'm a woodland fellow, Sir, that always lov'd 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's Court. I am for the House with the narrow gate, which I take to be too little for Pomp to enter : fome, that humble themselves, may ; but the many will be too chill and tender, and they'll be for the flow'ry 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 fo 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, they shall be jades' tricks, which are their own right by the law of Nature.
' his phis’r.omy is more HoTT R who are generally white and fair, in France thrine here.] This is
WARBURTON intolerable nonsense. The Au · I'm a woodland fellow, Sir, pid Editors, because the Devil &c.] Shakespear is but rarely was talked of, thought no quali- guilty of such impious trah. ty would fuit him but hotter. We And it is observable, that then he thould read,
;-more HONOUR'D. always puts that into the mouth A joke upon the French people, of his fools, which is now grown as if they held a dark complexion, the characteristic of the fine-gerwhich is natural to them, in more tleman. WARBURTON eitimation than the English do,
Laf. A shrewd knave, and an ' unhappy.
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 fawciness; 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 mov'd the King my Master to speak in the behalf of my Daughter ; which, in the minority of them both, his Majesly, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did first propose ; his Highness has promis'd me to do it; and to stop up the displeasure he hath conceiv'd against your son, there is no fitter matter. How do's your Ladyship like it?
Count. With very much content, my Lord, and I wish it happily effected.
Laf. His Highness comes poft from Marseilles, of as able a body as when he number'd thirty; he will be here to morrow, or I am deceiv'd 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.
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.
Clo, O Madam, yonder's my Lord your son with a patch of velvet on's face; whether there be a scar * Unhappy. ] That is, mischievously haggish; unlu kı'.
under't, 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.
Count. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour. So, belike, is that.
Clo. But it is your + carbonado'd 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.
The Court of France, at Marseilles.
Enter Helena, Widow, and Diana, with two
UT this exceeding posting day and night
Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it. But since you've made the days and nights as one, To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs ; Be bold, you do fo grow in my requital, As nothing can unroot you. In happy time,
, — Enter a Gentleman. This man may help me to his Majesty's ear,
4 But it is your carbonado'd carabine; arms, which Herry face.} Mr. Pope reads it carbi- IV. had made famous, by bringxado'd, which is right. The ing into use amongst his horse. joke, such as it is, consists in the
WARBURTON. allufion to a wound made with a
If he would spend his power.
God save you, Sir.
Hel. I do presume, Sir, that you are not fallen
Gent. What's your will?
Hel. That it will please you
Gent. The King's not here,
Gent. Not, indeed.
Wid. Lord, how we lose our pains !
Hel. All's well, that ends well yet, Tho'time feems so adverse, and means unfit: I do beseech you, whither is he gone ?
Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon,
Hel. I beseech you, Sir,
s Our means will make us , obscure his meaning. Helena
means. ] Shakespeare de- fays, they will follow with luch lights much in this kind of re- speed as ihe means which they have duplication, sometimes so as to will give them ability to exert.