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And tak't it all for jeft,

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 issue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out
Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
Which oft infects the wiseft: 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.

Leo. Ha' not you seen, Camillo,
(But that's past doubt ; you have, or your eye-glals
Ìs thicker than a cuckold's horn) 'or heard,
(For to a vision fo apparent, rumour
Cannot be mute) or thought, (for cogitation
Resides not in that man, that does not think't)
My wife is Nippery ? if thou wilt, confess,
(Or elle 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 fovereign mistress clouded so, without
My present vengeance taken ; 'Ihrew my heart,
You never spoke what did become you less
Than this, which to reiterate; were fin
As deep as that, tho' true.

Leo. Is whispering nothing !
Is leaning check to cheek ? is meeting noses ?


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Kiffing with infide lip? Atopping the career
Of laughter with a high ? (a note infallible
Of breaking honesty:) horling foot on foot ?
Skulking in corners ? wishing clocks more swift?
Hours minutes ? the 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, Bitbynia nothing,
My wife is nothing, nor nothing have these nothings,
If this be nothing.

Cam. Good my Lord, be car'd
Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes,
For 'tis moft dangerous.

Leo. Say it be, 'tis truesi
Cam. No, no, my Lord.

Leo. It is ; you lie, you lie :
I say thou lieft, Camillo, and I hate thee,
Pronounce thee a gross lowt, a mindless lave,
Or elfe a hovering temporizer, that
Canft with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
Inclining to them both : were my wife's liver
Infected, as her life, fhe would not live
The running of one glass.

Cam. Who do's infect her ?

Leo. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging
About his neck, Bitbynia ; who, if I
Had servants true about me, that bear eyes
To see 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 benchd, and rear'd to worship, who may'a see
Plainly, as heav'n sees earth, and earth sees heav'n,
How I am gall'd, thou might’A be-Spice 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 lingring dram, that thould not work,

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Like a malicious poison : bút I cannot
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable,
So lov'd.

vegnt uniga un
Leo. Make that thy queftion, and go tot: "SAINI ?
Do't think I am so muddy, for unfeetled,
To appoint soy felf in this vexationi? Sually
The purity and whiteness of ny fheets;
Which to preferve, is sleep which being fpottedo
Is goads, and thorris, nerdes, and tails of welps :
Give scandal to the blood o'th' Prince, my son,
Who, I do think, is mine, and love as mine ;
Without ripe moving to?would do this?
Could man fo blench?

Cam. I must believe you, Sir,
I do, and will fetch off Bithynia forte
Provided that when he's reinou 'd your Higtines

Will take again your Queen as yours at firft,
Even for your son's fake, and thereby for sealising
The injury of tongues, in Courts and Kingdoms
Known and ally to yours: - Stock

Leo. Thou dost adviselme,
Even so as I mine own course have let down:
I'll give no blernish to her honour, none.

Cam. My Lord,
Go iten; and with a countenance as clear
As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bithynia,
And with your Queen : Fam his cup-bearet ;
If from me he have wholesome beveridge,
Account me not your servane.

Leo. This is all.
Do’t, and thou haft the one half of my heart s
Do't not, thou split'st thine own,

Cam. I'll do't, my Lord.
Leo. I will seem friendly, as thou haft advis’d me. [Exit.

Cam. O miserable Lady! but for me,
What case stand I in? I mult be the poisoner
Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do's
Is the obedience to a master, one,
Who in rebellion with þimself, will have

All that are his, fo too. . To do this deed
Promotion follows. If I could find example
Of thousands that had struck anointed Kings,
And flourish'd after, I'd not do't : but since
Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment bears not one,
Let villainy it self 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 Bitbynia.

S.CENE IV. 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'th' Court ?
Cam. None rare, my Lord.

Pel. 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 th' 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.

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

For to your self, what you do know, you must,
And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo,
Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror,
Which shews me mine chang'd too ; fór I must be
A party in this alteration, finding
My self thus alter'd with it.

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 fighted like the basilisk.
I've look'd on thousands, who have sped the better


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16!!TA By my regard, but killed pone fo: Camillo, As you are certainly a gentleman, Clerk-like experienc'd, (which no less adorns Our gentry, than our parents noble names, In whore fuccess we are gentle) I befeech you, you know ought which does behove my knowledge Thereof to be inform’d, imprison't not In ignorant concealment,

Cam. I may not answer,

Pol. A fickness caught of me, and yet I well ?
I must be answer'd. Doft thou hear, Carnillo,
I conjure thee by all the parts of man,
Which honour does acknowledge, whereof the leaf
Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare
What incidency thou dost guess of harm
Is creeping towards me ; how far off, how aear,
Which way to be prevented, if to be;
If not, how best to bear it.

Cam. Sir, I'll tell you,
Since I am charg'd in honour, and by him
That I think honourable ; therefore mark my copafel,
Which must be ev?n as swiftly follow'd as
I mean to utter it ; or both your self and me
Cry lost, and so good night.

Pol. On, good Camilla.
Com. 'I am appointed, Sir, to murder you.
Pol. By whom, Camillo
Cam. By the King.
Pol. For what?

Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he fwcars,
Asbe had seen't, or been an instrument
To vice you to't, that you have toucht his Queen

Pol. Oh then, my best blood turn
To an infected gelly, and my name
Be yoak’d with his that did betray the bef!
Turn then my freshest reputation to
A lavour, that may Atrike the dullest noftril
Where I arrive ; and my approach be hund,
Success here is to be under kood in the same sense as Suecetina.


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