Clown.
Laf.
No, no, no, your Son was mis-led with a
snipt-taffata fellow there, 9 note
whose villainous
saffron would have made all the unbak'd and dowy
youth of a nation in his colour. Your daughter-in-law
had been alive at this hour; and your son here at
-- 92 --
home, 1 notemore advantaged by the King, than by that
red-tail'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 sallets ere we light on such another
herb.
Clo.
Indeed, Sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the
sallet, or rather the herb of grace.
Laf.
They are not sallet-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 thy self, 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 folly, 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.
-- 93 --
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
2 notephisnomy is more honour'd 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 Master thou talk'st of,
serve him still.
Clo.
3 noteI'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: some, 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 so 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.
[Exit.
-- 94 --
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 sawciness;
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 Majesty, out of a self-gracious
remembrance, did first propose; his Highness hath
promis'd me to do it; and to stop up the displeasure
he hath conceived 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 post 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.
4 noteIt rejoices me, that hope, that 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.
-- 95 --
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'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.
5 noteBut it is your carbinado'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.
[Exeunt.
Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
