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When you caft out, it ftill came home.

Leo. Didft note it?

Cam. He would not stay at your petitions made; His business more material.

Leo. Didft perceive it?

They're here with me already; whifp'ring round, Afide Sicilia is a-fo forth; 'tis far gone,

When I fhall guft it laft. How came't, Camillo,

That he did ftay?

Cam. At the good Queen's entreaty.

Leo. At the Queen's be't; good should be pertinent; But fo it is, it is not. Was this taken

By any understanding pate but thine ?
For thy conceit is foaking, 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 meffes
Perchance are to this bufinefs purblind? fay.

Cam. Bufinefs, my Lord? I think most understand
Bithynia ftays here longer.

Leo. Ha ftays here longer. Ay, but why?
Cam. To fatisfie your Highness, and th entreaties
Of our moft gracious mistress.

Leo. Satisfie?

Th' entreaties of your mistress? fatisfie?
Let that fuffice. I've trufted thee, Camillo,
With all the things nearest my heart, with all
My chamber-councels, wherein, prieft-like, thou
Haft cleans'd my bofom; I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been
Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd

In that which feems fo.

Cam. Be it forbid, my Lord!

Leo. To bide upon't-thou art not honest, or,
If thou inclin'ft that way, thou art a coward,
Which hockles honefty behind, reftraining
From course requir'd; or elfe thou must be counted
A fervant grafted in my serious truft,
And therein negligent; or elfe a fool,

That feeft a game plaid home, the rich stake drawn,

And

And tak'ft 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,
Sometime puts forth in your affairs, my Lord,
If ever I were wilful negligent,

It was my folly; if injuriously

I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful
To do a thing, where I the iffue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out

Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
Which oft infects the wifeft: thefe, my Lord,
Are fuch allow'd infirmities, that honesty
Is never free of. But 'befeech your Grace,
Be plainer with me, let me know my trespass
By its own vifage; if I then deny it,

'Tis none of mine.

Leo. Ha' not you feen, Camillo,

(But that's paft doubt; you have, or your eye-glass Is thicker than a cuckold's horn) or heard,

(For to a vifion fo apparent, rumour

Cannot be mute) or thought, (for cogitation
Refides not in that man, and does not think't)
My wife is flippery? if thou wilt, confefs,
(Or elfe be impudently negative,

To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought) then say,
My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name
As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight: fay't and juftify't.
Cam. I would not be a ftander-by, to hear
My fovereign mistress clouded fo, without
My prefent vengeance taken; 'fhrew my heart,
You never spoke what did become you lefs
Than this, which to reiterate, were fin
As deep as that, tho' true.

Leo. Is whispering nothing?

Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses ?

Kiffing

Kiffing with infide lip? ftopping the career
Of laughter with a figh? (a note infallible
Of breaking honefty :) horfing foot on foot?
Skulking in corners? wifhing clocks more swift?
Hours minutes? the noon midnight? and all eyes
Blind with the pin and web, but theirs; theirs only,
That would unfeen be wicked? is this nothing?
Why then the world, and all that's in't, is nothing;
The covering fky is nothing, Bithynia nothing,

My wife is nothing, nor nothing have thefe nothings
If this be nothing.

Cam. Good my lord, be cur'd

Of this difeas'd opinion, and betimes,
For 'tis moft dangerous.

Leo. Say it be, 'tis true.
Cam. No, no, my Lord.
Leo. It is; you lie, you lie:

I fay thou lieft, Camillo, and I hate thee,
Pronounce thee a grofs lowt, a mindless slave,
Or else a hovering temporizer, that

Canft with thine eyes at once fee good and evil,
Inclining to them both: were my wife's liver
Infected, as her life, fhe would not live
The running of one glafs.

Cam. Who do's infect her?

Leo. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging About his neck, Bithynia; who, if I

Had fervants true about me, that bear eyes

To fee alike mine honour, as their profits,

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

Have bench'd, and rear'd to worship, who may'ft fee.
Plainly, as heav'n fees earth, and earth fees heav'n,
How I am gall'd, thou might'ft be-fpice a cup,

To give mine enemy a lafting wink,

Which draught to me were cordial.
Cam. Sir, my Lord,

I could do this, and that with no rash potion,
But with a lingring dram, that fhould not work,

Like a malicious poifon : but I cannot
Believe this crack to be in my dread miftress,
So fovereignly being honourable,

So lov'd.

Leo. Make that thy queftion, and go rot:
Do't think I am fo muddy, fo unfettled,
To appoint myself in this vexation? Sully
The purity and whitenefs of my fheets,
Which to preserve, is fleep; which being spotted,
Is goads, and thorns, nettles, and tails of wafps s
Give fcandal to the blood o'th' Prince, my fon,
Who, I do think, is mine, and love as mine
Without 'ripe moving to't would I do this?
Could man fo blench?

Cam. I must believe, you, Sir,

I do, and will fetch off Bithynia for't:
Provided that when he's remov'd, your Highness
Will take again your Queen, as yours at firft,
Even for your fon's fake, and thereby for fealing
The injury of tongues, in Courts and Kingdoms
Known and ally'd to yours.

Leo. Thou doft advise me,

Even fo as I mine own courfe have fet 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 feafts, keep with Bithynia,
And with your Queen: I am his cup-bearer;
If from me he have wholesome beveridge,
Account me not your fervant.

Leo. This is all.

Do't, and thou haft the one half of my heart;

Do't not, thou split'ft thine own.

Cam. I'll do't, my Lord.

Leo. I will feem friendly, as thou haft advis'd me. [Exit.
Cam. O miferable Lady! but for me,

What cafe ftand 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

To do this deed

All that are his, fo too.
Promotion follows. If I could find example
Of thousands that had ftruck anointed Kings,
And flourish'd after, I'd not do't: but fince

Nor brafs, nor ftone, nor parchment bears not one,
Let villainy itself forfwear't. I must
Forfake the Court; to do't, or no, is certain
To me a break-neck. Happy ftar, reign now!
Here comes Bithynia..

SCENE IV. Enter Polixenes..

Pol. This is ftrange! methinks

My favour here begins to warp.

Not speak?

Good day, Camillo !

Cam. Hail, moft royal Sir ?

Pol. What is the news i'th' Court?

Cam. None rare, my Lord.

Pol. The King hath on him fuch a countenance,
As he had loft fome province, and a region
Lov'd, as he loves himfelf: even now I met him
With customary compliment, when he
Wafting his eyes to th' contrary, and falling
A lip of much contempt, fpeeds from me, and
So leaves me to confider what is breeding,
That changes thus his manners.

Cam. I dare not know

1

[not

Pol. How, dare not? dare not? you do know and dare Be intelligent to me: 'tis thereabouts:

For to yourself, what you do know, you must,
And cannot fay, you dare not. Good Camillo,
Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror,
Which fhews me mine chang'd too; for I must be
A party in this alteration, finding
Myfelf thus alter'd with it.

Cam. There is a fickness

Which puts fome of us in diftemper; but
I cannot name the disease, and it is caught

Of you that yet are well.

Pol. How caught of me?

Make me not fighted like the bafilisk.

I've look'd on thoufands who have fped the better
VOL. IV.

C

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