[Unmuffling him.

1 Sold. That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. So, look about you: Know you any here? Ber. Good morrow, noble captain.

2 Lord. God bless you, captain Parolles. 1 Lord. God save you, noble captain.

2 Lord. Captain, what greeting will you to my lord Lafeu? I am for France.

1 Lord. Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the count Rousillon? An I were not a very coward, I'd compel it of you; but fare well.

you

[Exeunt BERTRAM, Lords, &c. 1 Sold. You are undone, captain; all but your scarf, that has a knot on't yet.

Par. Who cannot be crushed with a plot ?

1 Sold. If you could find out a country where but women were that had received so much shame, you might begin an impudent nation. Fare you well, sir; I am for France too; we shall speak of you there.

[Exit. Par. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great, 'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more; But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft As captain shall: simply the thing I am

Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,
Let him fear this; for it will come to pass,
That every braggart shall be found an ass.
Rust, sword! cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live
Safest in shame! Being fooled, by foolery thrive!
There's place, and means, for every man alive.
I'll after them.

[Exit.

SCENE IV. Florence. A Room in the Widow's House.

Enter HELENA, Widow, and Diana.

Hel. That you may well perceive I have not wronged you,

One of the greatest in the Christian world

Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful,
Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel.
Time was, I did him a desired office,
Dear almost as his life; which gratitude
Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth,
And answer, thanks. I duly am informed
His grace is at Marseilles ;1 to which place
We have convenient convoy. You must know,
I am supposed dead: the army breaking,

My husband hies him home; where, Heaven aiding,
And by the leave of my good lord the king,
We'll be, before our welcome.

Wid.

Gentle madam,

You never had a servant to whose trust

Your business was more welcome.

Hel.

Nor you, mistress,
Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labor
To recompense your love. Doubt not but Heaven
Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,
As it hath fated her to be my motive2

And helper to a husband. But, O strange men!
That can such sweet use make of what they hate,
When saucy trusting of the cozened thoughts
Defiles the pitchy night! So lust doth play
With what it loathes, for that which is away:
But more of this hereafter.You, Diana,

1 Marseilles, in the old copy, is written Marcella and Marcellus. 2 i. e. to be my mover.

3 Saucy was used in the sense of wanton. We have it with the same meaning in Measure for Measure.

Under my poor instructions, yet must suffer
Something in my behalf.

Dia.

Let death and honesty

Go with your impositions, I am yours,'
Upon your will to suffer.

Yet, I pray you,

2

Hel.
But with the word, the time will bring on summer,
When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns,
And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
Our wagon is prepared, and time revives us.

All's well that ends well: still the fine's the crown ;3
Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. [Exeunt.

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 snipttaffeta fellow there; whose villanous saffron1 would have made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his color: 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 na

1 i. e. let death, accompanied by honesty, go with the task you impose, still I am yours, &c.

2 The reading proposed by Blackstone,

"Yet I fray you

But with the word: the time will bring, &c."

seems required by the context, and makes the passage intelligible.

3 A translation of the common Latin proverb, Finis coronat opus; the origin of which has been pointed out by Mr. Douce, in his Illustrations, vol. i. p. 323.

4 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 coloring paste with saffron. The plain meaning seems to be that Parolles's vices were of such a colorable quality as to be sufficient to corrupt the inexperienced youth of a nation, and make them take the same hue.

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

nature.

Laf. A shrewd knave and an unhappy.2

[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, 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.