They're here with me already; whispering, rounding,
Sicilia is a so-forth. 'Tis far gone,

When I shall gust it last.-How came't, Camillo,
That he did stay?

Cam. At the good queen's entreaty.

Cannot be mute,) or thought, (for cogitation
Resides not in that man, that does not think it,)
My wife is slippery? Ifthou wilt confess,
(Or else be impudently negative,

To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought,) then say,
My wife's a hobbyhorse; deserves a name
As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight; say it, and justify it!
Cam. I would not be a stander-by, to hear
My sovereign mistress clouded so, without
My present vengeance taken. 'Shrew my heart,
You never spoke what did become you less
Than this; which to reiterate, were sin
As deep as that, though true.

Leon. Is whispering nothing?

Is leaning cheek to cheek, is meeting noses,
Kissing with inside lip, stopping the career

Leon. At the queen's, be't: good, should be pertinent; Of laughter with a sigh, (a note infallible

But so it is, it is not. Was this taken
By any understanding pate but thine?
For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
More than the common blocks. Not noted, is't,
But of the finer natures? by some severals,
Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes,
Perchance, are to this business purblind; say.
Cam. Business, my lord? I think, most understand
Bohemia stays here longer.

Leon. Ha?

Cam. Stays here longer.
Leon. Ay, but why?

Cam. To satisfy your highness, and the entreaties
Of our most gracious mistress.
Leon. Satisfy

The entreaties of your mistress?-satisfy ?—
Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,
With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
My chamber-councils, wherein, priest-like, thou
Hast cleans'd my bosom; I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been
Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd
In that which seems so.

Cam. Be it forbid, my lord!
Leon. Tho bide upon't;

Of breaking honesty:) horsing foot on foot,
Skulking in corners, wishing clocks more swift,
Hours, minutes, noon, midnight, and all eyes blind
With the pin and web, but theirs, theirs only,
That would unseen be wicked, is this nothing?
Why, then the world, and all that's in't, is nothing;
The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing;
My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings,
If this be nothing.

Cam. Good my lord, be cur'd

Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes;
For 'tis most dangerous.

Leon. Say, it be; 'tis true.
Cam. No, no, my lord.

Leon. It is; you lie, you lie :

I say, thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee,
Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave,
Or else a hovering temporizer, that

Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
Inclining to them both. Were my wife's liver
Infected as her life, she would not live
The running of one glass.

Cam. Who does infect her?

Leon. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging

thou art not honest: or, About his neck, Bohemia; who-if I

If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward;
Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining
From course requir'd: or else thou must be counted

A servant, grafted in my serious trust,

And therein negligent; or else a fool,

Had servants true about me; that bare eyes
To see alike mine honour as their profits,

Their own particular thrifts, they would do that,
Which should undo more doing: ay, and thou,
His cup-bearer, whom I from meaner form

That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn, Have bench'd, and rear'd to worship, who may'st see

And tak'st it all for jest.

Cam. My gracious lord,

I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful;

In every one of these no man is free,

But that his negligence, his folly, fear,

Amongst the infinite doings of the world,

Sometimes puts forth. In your affairs, my lord,
If ever I were wilful-negligent,

It was my folly; if industriously
I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
Not weighing well the end: if ever fearful
To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out
Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
Which oft affects the wisest: these, my lord,
Are such allow'd infirmities, that honesty
Is never free of. But, 'beseech your grace,
Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass
By its own visage! If I then deny it,
'Tis none of mine.

Leon. Have not you seen, Camillo,

(But that's past doubt: you have; or your eyeglass Is thicker than a cuckold's horn;) or heard,

(For, to a vision so apparent, rumour

Plainly, as heaven sees earth, and earth sees heaven,
How I am galled,- might'st bespice a cup,

To give mine enemy a lasting wink;
Which draught to me were cordial.

Cam. Sir, my lord,

I could do this; and that with no rash potion,
But with a ling ring dram, that should not work
Maliciously like poison: but I cannot

Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable.
I have lov'd thee,

Leon. Make't thy question, and go rot!
Dost think, I am so muddy, so unsettled,
To appoint myself in this vexation? sully
The purity and whiteness of my sheets,
Which to preserve, is sleep; which being spotted,
Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps?
Give scandal to the blood o'the prince my son,
Who, I do think is mine, and love as mine,
Without ripe moving to't? Would I do this?
Could man so blench?

Cam. I must believe you, sir;

I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't:

Provided, that, when he's remov'd, your highness

Will take again your queen, as yours at first;
Even for your son's sake; and, thereby, for sealing
The injury of tongues, in courts and kingdoms
Known and allied to yours.

Leon. Thou dost advise me,

Even so as I mine own course have set down:

I'll give no blemish to her honour, none.
Cam. My lord,

Go then; and with a countenance as clear,

As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia,
And with your queen! I am his cup-bearer;
If from me he have wholesome beverage,
Account me not your servant!

Leon. This is all.

Do't, and thou hast the one half of my heart;
Do't not, thou split'st thine own.
Cam. I'll do't, my lord.

Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd me.

Cam. O miserable lady! But for me,
What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner
Of good Polixenes: and my ground to do't
Is the obedience to a master; one,
Who, in rebellion with himself, will have
All, that are his, so too.-To do this deed,
Promotion follows. IfI could find example
Of thousands that have struck anointed kings,
And flourish'd after, I'd not do't: but since

[Exit.

Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not one,
Let villainy itself forswear't. I must

Forsake the court: to do't, or no, is certain
To me a break-neck. Happy star, reign now!
Here comes Bohemia.

Enter POLIXENES.

Pol. This is strange! methinks,
My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?
Good-day, Camillo !

Cam. Hail, most royal sir!

Pol. What is the news i'the court?
Cam. None rare, my lord.

Pol. The king hath on him such a countenance,
As he had lost some province, and a region,
Lov'd as he loves himself: even now I met him
With customary compliment; when he,
Wafting his eyes to the contrary, and falling
A lip of much contempt, speeds from me; and
So leaves me, to consider what is breeding,
That changes thus his manners.

Cam. I dare not know, my lord.

Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears,
As he had seen't, or been an instrument

To vice you to't, that you have touch'd his queen
Forbiddenly.

Pol. 0, then my best blood turn
To an infected jelly, and my name
Be yok'd with his, that did betray the best!
Turn then my freshest reputation to

A savour, that may strike the dullest nostril
Where I arrive; and my approach be shunn'd,
Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection,
That e'er was heard, or read!

Cam. Swear his thought over

By each particular star in heaven, and
By all their influences, you may as well
Forbid the sea for to obey the moon,
As or, by oath, remove, or counsel, shake
The fabric of his folly; whose foundation
Is pil'd upon his faith, and will continue
The standing of his body.

Pol. How should this grow?

Cam. I know not: but, I am sure, 'tis safer to
Avoid what's grown, than question how 'tis born.
If therefore you dare trust my honesty,-
That lies enclosed in this trunk, which you
Shall bear along impawn'd,-away to-night..
Your followers I will whisper to the business,
And will, by twos, and threes, at several posterns,

Pol. How! dare not? do not. Do you know, and dare Clear them of the city. For myself, I'll put

not

Make me not sighted like the basilisk:

My fortunes to your service, which are here
By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain!
For, by the honour of my parents, I

Have utter'd truth: which if you seek to prove,

I dare not stand by, nor shall you be safer

Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth,

thereon

His execution sworn.

Pol. I do believe thee:

I saw his heart in his face. Give me thy hand;

Be pilot to me, and thy places shall

Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready, and
My people did expect my hence departure
Two days ago.- This jealousy

I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better Is for a precious creature: as she's rare,

By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo,

As you are certainly a gentleman; thereto
Clerk-like, experienc'd, which no less adorns
Our gentry, than our parents' noble names,
In whose success we are gentle,-I beseech you,

If you know aught, which does behove my knowledge
Thereof to be inform'd, imprison it not
In ignorant concealment!

Must it be great; and, as his person's mighty,
Must it be violent; and as he does conceive,
He is dishonour'd by a man, which ever
Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must
In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me:
Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing
Of his ill-ta'en suspicion! Come, Camillo ;

240

I will respect thee as a father, if
Thou bear'st my life off hence. Let us avoid!
Cam. It is in mine authority, to command
The keys of all the posterns. Please your highness
To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away! [Exeunt.

АСТ II.

SCENE I-The same.

Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, and Ladies. Her. Take the boy to you! he so troubles me, 'Tis past enduring.

1 Lady. Come, my gracious lord! Shall I be your play-fellow? Mam. No, I'll none of you.

1 Lady. Why, my sweet lord?

Mam. You'll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if

I were a baby still.-1 love you better.

2 Lady. And why so, my good lord?
Mam. Not for because

Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say,
Become some women best; so that there be not
Too much hair there, but in a semi-circle,
Or half moon made with a pen.

2 Lady. Who taught you this?

Mam. I learn'd it out of women's faces. - Pray now What colour are your eye-brows?

1 Lady. Blue, my lord.

Remain a pinch'd thing; yea, a very trick
For them to play at will. -How came the posterns
So easily open?

1 Lord. By his great authority,
Which often hath no less prevail'd than so,
On your command.

Leon. I know't too well.

Give me the boy! I am glad, you did not nurse him :
Though he does bear some sign of me, yet you
Have too much blood in him.

Her. What is this? sport?

Leon. Bear the boy hence, he shall not come about her;
Away with him!-and let her sport herself
With that she's big with; for 'tis Polixenes
Has made thee swell thus.

Her. But I'd say, he had not,

And, I'll be sworn, you would believe my saying,
Howe'er you lean to the nayward.

Leon. You, my lords,

Look on her, mark her well; be but about

To say, she is a goodly lady, and

The justice of your hearts will thereto add,
'Tis pity she's not honest, honourable;

Praise her but for this her without-door form,
(Which, on my faith, deserves high speech,) and
straight

The shrug, the hum, or ha; these petty brands,
That calumny doth use. -0, I am out,

Mam. Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a lady's nose That mercy does; for calumny will sear

That has been blue, but not her eye-brows.

2 Lady. Hark ye:

The queen, your mother, rounds apace: we shall
Present our services to a fine new prince,

One of these days: and then you'd wanton with us,
If we would have you.

1 Lady. Sheis spread of late

Into a goodly bulk: good time encounter her!

Virtue itself:-these shrugs, these hums, and ha's,
When you have said, she's goodly, come between,
Ere you can say, she's honest: but be it known
From him, that has most cause to grieve it should be,
She's an adultress.

Her. Should a villain say so,

The most replenish'd villain in the world,
He were as much more villain; you, my lord,

Her.What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come sir, now Do but mistake.

I am for you again: pray you, sit by us,

And tell's a tale!

Mam. Merry, or sad, shall't be?

Her. As merry as you will.

Mam. A sad tale's best for winter;

I have one of sprites and goblins.

Her. Let's have that, sir.

Come on, sit down!-Come on, and do your

best

Leon. You have mistook, my lady, i
Polixenes for Leontes. O thou thing,
Which I'll not call a creature of thy place,
Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,
Should a like language use to all degrees,
And mannerly distinguishment leave out
Betwixt the prince and beggar!-I have said,
She's an adultress; I have said with whom:

To fright me with your sprites : you're powerful at it. More, she's a traitor; and Camillo is

Mam. There was a man,

Her. Nay, come, sit down; then on!

A federary with her, and one that knows,
What she should shame to know herself,

Mam. Dwelt by a church-yard:- I will tell it softly; But with her most vile principal, that she's
Yon crickets shall not hear it.

Her. Come on then,

And give't me in mine ear!

Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, Lords, and others.
Leon. Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?
1 Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never
Saw I men scour so on their way: I ey'd them'
Even to their ships.

Leon. How bless'd am I

In my just censure? in my true opinion?-
Alack, for lesser knowledge!-How accurs'd,
In being so blest! -There may be in the cup
A spider steep'd, and one may drink; depart,
And yet partake no venom; for his knowledge
Is not infected: but if one present

The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known,
How he hath drank, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
With violent hefts:-fhave drank,and seen the spider.
Camillo was his help in this, his pander!-
There is a plot against my life, my crown;
All's true, that is mistrusted:-that false villain,,
Whom I employ'd, was pre-employ'd by him :
He has discover'd my design, and I

Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you,
When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that
You thus have publish'd me? Gentle my lord,
You scarce can right me throughly then, to say
You did mistake.

Leon. No, no; if I mistake

In those foundations, which I build upon,
The center is not big enough to bear

A school-boy's top.- Away with her to prison!
He, who shall speak for her, is a far off guilty,
But that he speaks.

Iler. There's some ill planet reigns:

I must be patient, till the heavens look
With an aspect more favourable.-Good my lords,
I am not prone to weeping, as our sex
Commonly are; the want of which vain dew,
Perchance, shall dry your pities: but I have
That honourable grief lodg'd here, which burns
Worse, than tears drown. 'Beseech you all, my lords,

I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw' d,-You know me, do you not?
I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven ;
The second, and the third, nine and some five;
If this prove true, they'll pay for't: by mine honour,
I'll geld them all; fourteen they shall not see,
To bring false generations: they are co-heirs;
And I had rather glib myself, than they
Should not produce fair issue.

Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, Lords, and other Atten-Than such, as most seem yours:-I say, I come