none.

It is a bawdy planet, that will strike Where't is predominant; and 't is 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

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With bag and baggage. Many thousand on 's Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy!

Mam. I am like you, they say. Leon. Why, that's some comfort. What, Camillo there? Cam. Ay, my good lord.

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est man.

Leon. Go play, Mamillius; thou 'rt an hon[Exeunt Mamillius.] 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.
Didst note it?
Cam. He would not stay at your petitions;
made

His business more material.

Leon. Didst perceive it? [Aside.] They're here with me already, whispering, rounding, "Sicilia is a so-forth.' "T is far gone, When I shall gust it last. How came 't, Camillo, That he did stay?

Cam.

At the good Queen's entreaty. Leon. At the Queen's be 't; "good" should be pertinent;

221

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,

225

Bohemia stays here longer.

Leon.

215

Ha!

is 't,

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 un-
derstand

thou

Hast cleans'd my bosom, I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform'd; but we have been
Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd
In that which seems so.

Cam.
Be it forbid, my lord!
Leon. To bide upon 't, thou art not hon-
est, 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

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pass

By its own visage. If I then deny it, "T is none of mine.

Leon.

240

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,
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,

255

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, 't was 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 tres-

265

256

200

Ha' not you seen, Camillo, But that's past doubt, you have, or your eye

glass

or heard, —

Is thicker than a cuckold's horn,
For to a vision so apparent rumour
Cannot be mute, - -or thought,

270

for cogita

tion Resides not in that man that does not think, – My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess, Or else be impudently negative,

To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then

275

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 286

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?

291

Why, then the world and all that's in 't is nothing;

295

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 't is most dangerous.

Leon.

Cam. No, no, my lord.
Leon.

Say it be, 't is true.

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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 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

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

310

305

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,

315

How I am gall'd, 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

320

Maliciously like poison; but I cannot
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable.
I have lov'd thee, -

325

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?

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ness

Cam. I must believe you, sir; I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for 't; Provided that, when he 's removed, your High

335