| ACT V.
SCENE 2.  Rousillon. The inner court of the COUNTESS'S palace.
 [Enter CLOWN and PAROLLES.]
 PAROLLES.
Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this letter: I have
 ere now, sir, been better known to you, when I have held
 familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in
 fortune's mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong
 displeasure.
 
 CLOWN.
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 buttering. Pr'ythee, allow the wind.
 
 PAROLLES.
Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake but by a
 metaphor.
 
 CLOWN.
Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or
 against any man's metaphor. Pr'ythee, get thee further.
 
 PAROLLES.
Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.
 
 CLOWN.
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 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 similes of comfort, and leave him to your lordship.
 
 [Exit.]
 
 PAROLLES.
My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched.
 
 LAFEU.
And what would you have me to do? 'tis 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.
 
 PAROLLES.
I beseech your honour to hear me one single word.
 
 LAFEU.
You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't: save your
 word.
 
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