Cam. I must believe you, Sir;
I do, and will fetch off Bohemia for't:
Provided, that, when he's remov'd, your Highness
Will take again your Queen, as yours at first,
Even for your fon's fake, and thereby for fealing
The injury of tongues, in Courts and Kingdoms
Known and ally'd to yours.
Leo. Thou dost advise me,
Even so as I mine own course have fet 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 feafts, keep with Bohemia,
And with your Queen: I am his cup-bearer;
If from me he have wholesome 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 feem friendly, as thou hast advis'd me.
Cam. O miferable lady! but, for me,
What case stand I in? I must be the poifoner
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'd not do't: but fince
Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not one;
Let villany 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 Bohemia.
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 confider 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
Be intelligent to me, 'tis thereabouts:
For to yourself, what you do know, you must;
And cannot fay, 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 fickness
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 bafilisk.
I've look'd on thousands, who have sped the better
By my regard, but kill'd none so: 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 fickness 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 leaft
Is not this suit of mine,) that thou declare,
What incidency thou dost 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.
Pol. For what?
Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he fwears, As he had seen't, or been an instrument
To vice you to't, that you have toucht his Queen
Forbiddenly.
Pol. Oh, then, my best blood turn
To an infected gelly, and my name
Be yoak'd with his, that did betray the best!
Turn then my freshest reputation to
A favour, that may fstrike the dullest nostril
Where I arrive; and my approach be shun'd,
Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection
That e'er was heard, or read!
Cam. Swear this though over (5)
(5) Cam. - Swear his Thought over
By each particular Star in Heaven, &c.] The Tranfposition of a single Letter reconcilesthis Passage to good Senfe; which is not so, as the Text stands in all the printed Copies. Polixenes, in the preceding Speech, had been laying the deepest Imprecations on himself, if he had ever abus'd Leontes in any Familiarity with his Queen, To which Camille very pertinently seplies:
By each particular star in heaven, and
By all their influences; you may as well
Forbid the fea for to obey the moon,
As or by oath remove, or counsel shake,
The fabrick of his folly; whose foundation
Is pil'd upon his faith, and will continue
The standing of his body.
Pol. How should this grow?
Cam. I know not; but, I'm sure, 'tis fafer to
Avoid what's grown, than question how 'tis born.
If therefore you dare trust my honesty,
That lies inclosed in this trunk, which you
Shall bear along impawn'd, away to night;
Your followers I will whisper to the business;
And will by twoes, and threes, at several posterns,
Clear them o'th' city. For myself, I'll put
My fortunes to your service, which are here
By this discovery loft. Be not uncertain;
For by the honour of my parents, I
Have utter'd truth; which if you seek to prove,
I dare not stand by; nor shall you be fafer,
Than one condemned by the King's own mouth;
Thereon his execution sworn.
I saw his heart in's face. Give me thy hand;
Be pilot to me, and thy places thall
Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready, and
My people did expect my hence departure
Two days ago. This jealoufie
Is for a precious creature; as she's rare,
Muft it be great; and, as his person's mighty,
Must it be violent; and, as he does conceive
He is dishonour'd by a man, which ever
Swear this though ever, &c.
i. e. Sir, Though you should protest your Innocence never fo often, and call every Star and Saint in Heaven to witness to your Adjuration; yet Jealousy is so rooted in my Master's Bosom, that All you can fay and swear will have no Force to remove it.
Profess'd to him; why, his revenges must
In That be made more bitter. Fear o'er-shades me:
Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
The gracious Queen; part of his theam, but nothing
Of his ill-ta'en fufpicion! Come, Camillo,
I will respect thee as a father, if
Thou bear'st my life off hence. Let us avoid.
Cam. It is in mine authority to command
The keys of all the posterns: please your Highness,
To take the urgent hour. Come, Sir, away. [Exeunt.
SCENE, The Palace.
Enter Hermione, Mamillius, and Ladies.
'AKE the boy to you; he so troubles me,
'Tis past enduring.
1 Lady. Come, my gracious Lord.
Shall I be your play-fellow ?
Mam. No, I'll none of you.
1 Lady. Why, my sweet Lord?
Mam. You'll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if
I were a baby still; I love you better. 2 Lady. And why so, my Lord?
Mam. Not for because
Your brows are blacker; (yet black brows, they say, Become some women best; so that there be not
Too much hair there, but in a semicircle,
Or a half-moon made with a pen.)
2 Lady. Who taught you this?
Mam. I learn'd it out of women's faces: pray now,
What colour be your eye-brows?
1 Lady. Blue, my Lord.
Mam. Nay, that's a mock: I've seen à lady's nose
That has been blue, but not her eye-brows.
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