Parolles.
Par.
Good Mr. Levatch, give my Lord Lafeu
this letter; I have ere now, Sir, been better
known to you, when I have held familiarity with
fresher cloaths; 6 note
but I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's
moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong
displeasure.
Clo.
Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it
smell so strongly as thou speak'st 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
spake but by a metaphor.
-- 383 --
6Q0133
Laf.
Indeed, Sir, if your metaphor stink, I will
stop my nose against any man's7 note
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 says, is muddied
withal. Pray you, Sir, use the carp as you may; for
he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally
knave. 8 noteI do pity his distress in my similies of
comfort, and leave him to your Lordship.
Par.
My Lord, I am a man whom fortune hath
cruelly scratch'd.
Laf.
And what would you have me to do? 'tis too
late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you play'd
-- 384 --
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 one 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.
[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 shall eat;9 note go to, follow.
Par.
I praise God for you.
[Exeunt.
-- 385 --
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
