Their own particular thrifts,-they would do that
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 may'st see
Plainly, as heaven sees earth, and earth sees heaven,
How I am galled,-might'st 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 ling'ring dram, that should not work
Maliciously like poison: But I cannot

Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable.

I have lov'd thee,

and go

rot!

Leo. Make't thy question, 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' th' prince, my son, Who, I do think is mine, and love as mine; Without right moving to't? Would I do this? Could man so blench ?3

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 son's sake; and, thereby, for sealing
The injury of tongues, in courts and kingdoms
Known and allied to yours.

Leo. Thou dost 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 cupbearer;
If from me he have wholesome beverage,
Account me not your servant.

Leo. This is all :

[3] To blench is to start off, to shrink. STEEVENS

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.

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 flourish'd after, I'd not do't: but since
Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not one;
Let villany 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.

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 the 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.

dare not

[Exit.

Do you know, and

[4] An allusion to the death of the Queen of Scots. The play, therefore, was written in King James's time. BLACKSTONE.

[5] This is a stroke of nature worthy of Shakespeare. Leontes had but a moment before assured Camillo that he would seem friendly to Polixenes, according to his advice; but on meeting him, his jealousy gets the better of his resolution, and he finds it impossible to restrain his hatred. M. MASON.

Be intelligent to me? 'Tis thereabouts;
For, to yourself, what you do know, you must;
And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo,

Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror,

Which shows 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 can not name the disease; and it is caught
Of you that yet are well.

Pol. How! caught of me?

Make me not sighted like the basilisk:

I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better
By my regard, but kill'd none so.

Camillo,

As you are certainly a gentleman; thereto,

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 it not

In ignorant concealment.

Cam. I may not answer.

Pol. A sickness 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 least

Is not this suit of mine,-that thou declare

What incidency thou dost guess of harm

Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near;
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 counsel;

Which must be even as swiftly follow'd, as

I mean to utter it; or both yourself and me

Cry, lost, and so good-night.

Pol. On, good Camillo

Cam. I am appointed him to murder you.

Pol. By whom, Camillo ?

Cam. By the king.

[6] I know not whether success here does not mean succession. JOHNSON.

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,7-that you have touch'd his queen
Forbiddenly.

Pol. O, then my best blood turn
To an infected jelly; and my name
Be yok'd with his, that did betray the best!
Turn then my freshest reputation to

A savour, that may strike the dullest nostril
Where I arrive; and my approach be shunn'd,
Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection
That e'er was heard, or read!

Cam. Swear his thought 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 fabric 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 am 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;
And will, by twos, 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 lost. 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 safer

Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth, thereon His execution sworn.

Pol. I do believe thee:

I saw his heart in's face. Give me thy hand;

[7] i. e. To draw, persuade you. The character called the Vice, in the old plays was the tempter to evil. WARBURTON.

The vice is an instrument well known; its operation is to hold things together. STEEVENS

[8] This folly which is erected on the foundation of settled belief. STEEVENS

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'er shades me:
Good expedition be my friend, and 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.

ACT II.

[Exe.

SCENE I.-The same.

Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, and
Ladies.

Hermione.

TAKE 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 good 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 semi-circle,

Or 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 are your eye-brows?

1 Lady. Blue, my lord.