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CAM. I would not be a stander-by, to hear
My, sovereign mistress clouded so, without
My present vengeance taken ; 'Ihrew my heart,
You never spoke what did become
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 with infide lip? ftopping the career
Of laughter with a high ? (a note infallible
Of breaking honesty), horsing foot on foot ?
Skulking in corners ? wishing clocks more fwift?
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, 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.

Leo. Say it be, 'tis true.
Cam. No, no, my lord.

LEO. It is; you lye, you lye :
I say, thou lieft, Camillo, and I hate thee;
Pronounce thee a gross lowt, a mindless Nave,
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.

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CAM. Who does infect her?

Leo. Why he, that wears her like his 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
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'st sec
Plainly, as heav'n sees earth, and earth sees heav'n,
How I am gall’d) thou might'st 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 lingering dram, that should not work,
Maliciously, like poison. But I cannot
Believe this crack bein my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable.

LEO. I've lov'd thee. -Make't thy question, and go rot;
Do'st 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 seep; which being spotted,
Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps :)
Give scandal to the blood o'th' prince, my son,
Who, ! 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 :
Provided, that, when he's remoy'd, your highness

Will take again your queen, as yours at first,
Even for your son's fake, and thereby for sealing
The injary of tongues, in courts and kingdoms
Known and ally'd to yours.

Leo. Thou doft advise me,
Even so as I mine own course have set 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 feasts, keep with Bohemia,
And with your queen; I am his cup-bearer;
If from me he have welcome beveridge,
Account me not your servant.

Leo. This is all;
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.
Leo. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis’d me. (Exit.

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 Aourished after, I'd not do’t : but since
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!
Here comes Bohemia.
Yob. II.

I

SCENE 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.

Pol. 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, my lord.

Pol. How, dare not ? do not ? do you know, and dare not?
Be intelligent to me, 'tis thereabouts:
For to yourfelf, 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; for I must be
A party in this alteration, finding
Myself 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 basilikk.
I've look'd on thousands, who have sped the better
By my regard, but kill'd none fo. Camillo,

As you are certainly a gentleman,
Clerk-like experienc'd (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. I may not answer,

Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well?
I must be answer'd. Doft thou hear, Camillo,
I conjure thee by all the parts of man,
Which honour does acknowledge (whereof the lead
Is not this suit of mine) that thou declare,
What incidency thou doft guess of harm
Is creeping towards me; how far off, how near;
Which way to be prevented, if it 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 counsel;
Which must be ev’n as swiftly follow'd, as
I mean to utter it; or both yourself and me
Cry loft, and so good night.

Pol. On, good Camillo.
CAM. I am appointed Him to murder you,
Pol. By whom, Camillo ?
Cam. By the king.
Por. For what?

Cam. He thinks, gay, with all confidence he swears
As he had seen't, or been an instrument
To vice you to ty that you have toucht his queen
Forbiddenly.

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