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Clo. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee get thee further.
Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.
Clo. Foh, prithee stand away: A paper from fortune's close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself.
Here is a pur of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat,) that has fallen into the unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal: Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, and leave him to your lordship.
[Exit. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched.
Laf. And what would you have me to do? 't is too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch 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 justices make you and fortune friends; I am
for other business.
Par. I beseech your honour to hear me one single word.
Laf. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha 't; save your word.
Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles.
Laf. You beg more than word then.—Cox' my passion! give me your hand: How does your drum?
Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found me. Laf. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee.
Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring me out.
Laf. Out upon thee, knave! dost 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. [Trumpets sound.] The king 's coming, I know by his trumpets. -Sirrah, inquire further after me; I had talk of you last night though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow.
Par. I praise God for you.
SCENE III.-The same.
A Room in the Countess's
Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, Lords,
King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem
"T is past, my liege : And I beseech your majesty to make it Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth; When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,
O'erbears it, and burns on.
My honour'd lady,
Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
This I must say,
Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive;
Praising what is lost,
Makes the remembrance dear.-Well, call
We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill
I shall, my liege.
Laf. All that he is hath reference to your highness. King. Then shall we have a match.
That set him high in fame.
I have letters
He looks well on 't.
King. I am not a day of season,
For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail
In me at once: But to the brightest beams
My high-repented blames,
All is whole;
Dear sovereign, pardon to me.
Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first
I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
a A day of season-a seasonable day. Sunshine and hail mark a day out of season.
Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue :
To a most hideous object: Thence it came,
That thou didst love her strikes, some scores away From the great compt: But love that comes too late, Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
To the great sender turns a sour offence,
Crying, That's good that 's gone: our rash faults
Count. Which better than the first, O dear Heaven, bless!
Or, ere they meet in me, O nature cesse.
Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's name Must be digested, give a favour from you,
To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,
e.-By my old beard,
That she may quickly come.
And every hair that 's on 't, Helen, that 's dead,
Hers it was not.
King. Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye, While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to it.— This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen, I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood Necessitied to help, that by this token
I would relieve her: Had you that craft, to reave her Of what should stead her most?
My gracious sovereign,
Son, on my life,
I am sure I saw her wear it. Ber. You are deceiv'd, my lord, she never saw it : In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain`d the name Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought I stood ingag'd: but when I had subscrib'd To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully, I could not answer in that course of honour As she had made the overture, she ceas'd, In heavy satisfaction, and would never Receive the ring again.
That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine,
Than I have in this ring: 't was mine, 't was Helen's,
That you are well acquainted with yourself,
Confess 't was hers, and by what rough enforcement
a Ingag'd. We think that the lady is represented by Bertram to have considered him “ingag'd"-pledged-to herself.