Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been In that which seems so. Cam. Be it forbid, my lord! Leon. To bide upon't;-Thou art not honest: or, 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, That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn, And tak'st it all for jest. Cam. My gracious lord, It was my folly; if industriously I play'd the fool, it was my negligence, 'Tis none of mine. Leon. Have not you seen, Camillo, (But that's past doubt: you have; or your eye-glass Is thicker than a cuckold's horn;) or heard, To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought,) then say, As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to As deep as that, though true. Is whispering nothing? Leon. 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 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. Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil, The running of one glass. Cam. Who does infect her? Leon. Why he, that wears her like her medal, hanging About his neck, Bohemia: Who-if I Had servants true about me: that bare eyes To see alike mine honour as their profits, Their own particular thrifts, they would do that 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, Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, I have lov'd thee, Leon. Make't thy question, and go rot! Dost think, I am so muddy, so unsettled, Which to preserve, is sleep; which being spotted, Cam. I must believe you, sir; I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't: Provided, that when he's remov'd, your highness Even for your son's sake; and, thereby, for sealing Leon. I'll give no blemish to her honour, none. Go then; and with a countenance as clear This is all: Leon. 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 [Exit. All that are his, so too.—To do this deed, 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 ! Pol. Enter POLIXENES. This is strange! methinks, My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?- Cam. Hail, most royal sir! Pol. What is the news i' th' court? Cam. None rare, my lord. Cam. I dare not know, my lord. dare not Do you know, and Be intelligent to me? "Tis thereabouts; |