1

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 fo good night.

Pol. On good Camillo.
Cam. 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 swears,
As he had seen't, or been an instrument
To vice

you
to't, that

you

have touch'd his queen Forbiddenly

Pol. O, then my best blood turn
To an infected gelly, and my name
Be yok'd with his that did betray the best!
Turn then my freshest reputation to
A favour, that may strike the dullest nostril
Where I arrive ; and my approach be shund,
Nay, hated too, worse than the great’st infection
That e'er was heard, or read!

Cam. Swear this though over
By each particular star in heaven, and
By all their influences; you may as well!
Forbid the sea for to obey the moon,
As or by oath remove, or counsel shake
The fabrick of his folly, whose foundation
Is pild 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 safer to
Avoid what's grown, than question how ’tis born.
If therefore you dare trust my honesty
That lies enclosed in this trunk, which you
Shall bear along impawn’d, away to-night!
Your followers I will whisper to the business,

seek to prove,

And will by twoes, and threes, at several pofterns,
Clear them o'th'city. For myself, I'll put
My fortunes to your service, which are here
By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain,
For, by the honour of my parents, I
Have utter'd truth; which if you
I dare not stand by’t; nor shall you

be safer Than one condemned by the king's own mouth, His execution sworn.

Pol. I do believe thee:
I saw his heart in's face. Give me thy hand;
Be pilot to me, and thy places shall
Still neighbour mine: my ships are ready, and
My people did expect my hence departure
Two days ago. This jealousy
Is for a precious creature: as she's rare,
Must 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
Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must
In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me:
Good expedition be my friend ! Heav’n comfort
The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing
Of his ill-ta’en suspicion ! 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.

ACT

ACT II. SCENE I.

The SCENE continues,

Enter Hermione, Mamillus, and Ladies,

T4

HERMION E.
AKE the boy to you; he so troubles me,

'Tis past enduring.
I Lady. Come, my gracious lord,
Shall I be your playfellow?

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, pray, 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,
Like 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 eyebrows ?

i Lady. Blue, my lord.
Mam. Nay, that's a mock: I've seen a lady's nose
That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.

i Lady. Hark ye,
The queen, your mother, rounds apace: we shall
Present our services, to a fine new prince
One of these days, and then you'll wanton with us,
If we would have you.

а.

2 Lady.

2 Lady. She is spread of late
Into a goodly bulk; good time encounter her!

Her. What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, fir, now
I am for you again : pray you, fit by us,
And tell's a tale.

Mam. Merry, or fad, shall't be?
Her. As merry as you will.

Mam. A sad tale's best
For winter : I have one of sprights and goblins.

Her. Let us have that, good sir.
Come on, sit down :
sit down : come on,

and do your best,
To fright me with your sprights: you're powerful at it.

Mam. There was a man
Her. Nay, come, sit down; then on.

Mam. Dwelt by a churchyard: I will tell it softly:
Yond crickets shall not hear it.

Her. Come on then, and give it me in mine car.

1

SCENE II.
Enter Leontes, Antigonus, and Lords.
Leo. Was he met there? his train ? Camillo with him?

Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never
Saw I men scour so on their way: I ey'd them
On even to their ships.

Leo. How bleft am I
In my just censure! in my true opinion !
Alack, for lesser knowledge! how accurs’d
In being so blest! There may be in the cup
A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart,
And

yet partake no venom; for his knowledge
Is not infected: but if one present
Th’abhorr’d ingredient to his eye, make known
How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his fides
With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider.
Camillo was his help in this, his pander :
Vol. II.

There

Ū u u

There is a plot against my life, my crown;
All's true that is mistrusted: that false villain,
Whom I employed, was pre-employ'd by him :
He hath discover'd my design, and I
Remain a pinch'd thing; yea, a very trick
For them to play at will: how came the posterns
So easily open?

Lord. By his great authority;
Which hath prevailed oftentimes no less
Than so on your command.

Leo. I know't too well.
Give me the boy; I'm glad, you did not nurse him:
Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you
Have too much blood in him.

Her. What is this ? sport?

Leo. Bear the boy hence," he shall not come about her ;
Away with him: and let her sport herself
With that she's big with: 'tis Polixenes
Has made thee swell thus.

Her. I'd but say, he had not;
And I'll be sworn you would believe my saying,
Howe'er you lean to th’nayward.

Leo. You, my lords,
Look on her, mark her well; be but about
To say, she is a goodly lady, and
The justice of your hearts will thereto add,
'Tis pity she's not honest, honourable:
Praise her but for this her without-door form,
Which, on my faith, deserves high speech, and straight
The shrug, the hum, or ha, these petty brands
That calumny doth use, o, I am out,
That mercy doth, (før calumny will sear
Virtue itself) these shrugs, these hums, and ha's,
When you have said she's goodly, come between
Ere you can say, she's honest: but be't known,

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