SCENE 5. Rousillon. A room in the COUNTESS'S palace.
[Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and CLOWN.]
No, no, no, son was misled with a snipt-taffeta fellow there,
whose villanous saffron would have made all the unbaked and
doughy youth of a nation in his colour: 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-tail'd humble-bee I speak
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.
'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a thousand
salads ere we light on such another herb.
Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the salad, or,
rather, the herb of grace.
They are not salad-herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs.
I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much skill in
Whether dost thou profess thyself,--a knave or a fool?
A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's.
I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his service.
So you were a knave at his service, indeed.
And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service.
I will subscribe for thee; thou art both knave and fool.
At your service.
No, no, no.