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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 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.

240

Be it forbid, my lord! 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

*Hamstrings.

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.

250

260

Leon. Ha' 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 Cannot be mute,-or thought,-for cogitation Resides not in that man that does not think,

270

My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess,
Or else 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: 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.

280

Leon. Is whispering nothing? Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses? Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career Of laughing 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;

*Cataract.

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 cured

Of this diseased 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

300

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

*Portrait in locket.

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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
Which should undo more doing: ay, and thou,
His cup-bearer,-whom I from meaner form
Have bench'd and rear'd to worship, who mayst

see

Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven,

How I am galled,-mightst 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 lingering dram that should not work Maliciously like poison: but I cannot *Quick. 321 Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, So sovereignly being honourable.

I have loved thee,

Leon. +Make that 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;

331

Provided that, when he's removed, 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: 340 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 cupbearer:
If from me he have wholesome beverage,
Account me not your servant.

This is all:

Leon.
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 ad-
vised me.
[Exit. 350
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. If I could find example
Of thousands that had struck anointed kings
And flourish'd after, I'ld not do't; but since
Nor brass nor stone nor parchment bears not one,
Let villany 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.

361

Pol.

Re-enter POLIXENES.

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
Loved 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 changeth thus his manners.

Cam. I dare not know, my lord.

371

*Turning.

Pol. How! dare not! do not. Do you know,

and dare not?

Be intelligent to me: 'tis thereabouts;

For, to yourself, what you do know, you must, And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo, 380 Your changed complexions are to me a mirror Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be A party in this alteration, finding

Myself thus alter'd with't.

Cam.
There is a sickness
Which puts some of us in distemper, but
I cannot name the disease; and it is caught
Of you that yet are well.

Pol.

How! caught of me! Make me not sighted like the basilisk:

I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better

By my regard, but kill'd none so.

391

Camillo,As you are certainly a gentleman, thereto Clerk-like experienced, 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't not

In ignorant concealment.

Cam.

*Succession.

I may not answer.

Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well!
I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo,
I conjure thee, by all the parts of man
Which honour does acknowledge, whereof the
least

Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare
What incidency thou dost guess of harm

Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near;
Which way to be prevented, if to be;

If not, how best to bear it.

Cam.

Sir, I will tell you;

400

Since I am charged in honour and by him
That I think honourable: therefore mark my

counsel,

Which must be even as swiftly follow'd as
I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me
Cry lost, and so good night!

Pol.
On, good Camillo.
Cam. I am appointed him to murder you.

410

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