Be you beneath the sky. - [Aside] I am angling

now,

Though you perceive me not how I give line.

Go to, go to!

How she holds up the neb, the bill to him!

And arms her with the boldness of a wife

To her allowing husband!

180

[Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione, and Attendants. Gone already!

185

Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd

one!

Go, play, boy, play. - Thy mother plays, and I
Play too, but so disgraced a part, whose issue
Will hiss me to my grave, contempt and clamour
Will be my knell. - Go, play, boy, play. There

have been,

Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now;

190

And many a man there is, even at this present,
Now, while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm,
That little thinks she has been sluiced in 's absence
And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by 195
Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in 't,
Whiles other men have gates and those gates open'd,
As mine, against their will. Should all despair
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
Would hang themselves. Physic for 't there is

none;

200

It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it,
From east, west, north, and south. Be it concluded,

No barricado for a belly; know 't;

It will let in and out the enemy

With bag and baggage: many thousand on 's
Have the disease, and feel 't not.

Mam. I am like you, they say.

Leon.

205

How now, boy!

Why, that's some comfort.

Cam. Ay, my good lord.

What, Camillo there?

210

Leon. Go play, Mamillius; thou 'rt an honest

Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.

Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor

hold;

When you cast out, it still came home.

Leon.

Cam.

Didst note it?

He would not stay at your petitions; made

His business more material.

[Aside] 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. 220 Leon. At the queen's be 't: 'good' should be pertinent;

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, 225

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 under-

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, 235
With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
My chamber-councils; wherein, priest-like, thou
Hast cleansed my bosom, I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been.
Deceived in thy integrity, deceived

In that which seems so.

Cam.

Be it forbid, my lord!

240

Leon. To bide upon 't, thou art not honest; or, If thou inclinest that way, thou art a coward,

Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining

From course required; or else thou must be counted

A servant grafted in my serious trust

And therein negligent; or else a fool

246

That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake

drawn,

And takest 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,
Among the infinite doings of the world,

Sometime 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 infects 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.

Ha' not you seen, Camillo,

250

255

260

265

But that's past doubt; you have, or your eye

glass

Is thicker than a cuckold's horn, or heard,
For to a vision so apparent rumour

Cannot be mute, or thought, for cogitation

Resides not in that man that does not think, –
My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess,

Or else be impudently negative,

270

To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say 275 My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name

As rank as any flax-wench that puts to
Before her troth-plight. Say 't and justify 't.
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.

280

Is whispering nothing?

285

Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses?
Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career
Of laughter with a sigh? a note infallible
Of breaking honesty - horsing foot on foot?
Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift?
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes 290
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 noth-
ings,

If this be nothing.

Cam.

Of this diseased opinion, and betimes;

For 'tis most dangerous.

Leon.

Good my lord, be cured

Say it be, 'tis true.

It is; you lie, you lie!

Cam. No, no, my lord.

Leon.

I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee,

Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave,

295

300