Shakespeare's First Folio Part 242

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Cam. Be it forbid (my Lord.) Leo. To bide vpon't: thou art not honest: or If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a Coward, Which hoxes honestie behind, restrayning From Course requir'd: or else thou must be counted A Seruant, grafted in my serious Trust, And therein negligent: or else a Foole, That seest a Game play'd home, the rich Stake drawne, And tak'st it all for ieast

Cam. My gracious Lord, I may be negligent, foolish, and fearefull, In euery one of these, no man is free, But that his negligence, his folly, feare, Among the infinite doings of the World, Sometime puts forth in your affaires (my Lord.) If euer I were wilfull-negligent, It was my folly: if industriously I play'd the Foole, it was my negligence, Not weighing well the end: if euer fearefull To doe a thing, where I the issue doubted, Whereof the execution did cry out Against the non-performance, 'twas a feare Which oft infects the wisest: these (my Lord) Are such allow'd Infirmities, that honestie Is neuer free of. But beseech your Grace Be plainer with me, let me know my Trespas By it's owne visage; if I then deny it, 'Tis none of mine

Leo. Ha' not you seene Camillo?

(But that's past doubt: you haue, or your eye-gla.s.se Is thicker then a Cuckolds Horne) or heard?

(For to a Vision so apparant, Rumor Cannot be mute) or thought? (for Cogitation Resides not in that man, that do's not thinke) My Wife is slipperie? If thou wilt confesse, Or else be impudently negatiue, To haue nor Eyes, nor Eares, nor Thought, then say My Wife's a Holy-Horse, deserues a Name As ranke as any Flax-Wench, that puts to Before her troth-plight: say't, and iustify't



Cam. I would not be a stander-by, to heare My Soueraigne Mistresse clouded so, without My present vengeance taken: 'shrew my heart, You neuer spoke what did become you lesse Then this; which to reiterate, were sin As deepe as that, though true

Leo. Is whispering nothing?

Is leaning Cheeke to Cheeke? is meating Noses?

Kissing with in-side Lip? stopping the Cariere Of Laughter, with a sigh? (a Note infallible Of breaking Honestie) horsing foot on foot?

Skulking in corners? wis.h.i.+ng Clocks more swift?

Houres, Minutes? Noone, Mid-night? and all Eyes Blind with the Pin and Web, but theirs; theirs onely, That would vnseene be wicked? Is this nothing?

Why then the World, and all that's in't, is nothing, The couering Skie is nothing, Bohemia nothing, My Wife is nothing, nor Nothing haue 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 lyest Camillo, and I hate thee, p.r.o.nounce thee a grosse Lowt, a mindlesse Slaue, Or else a houering Temporizer, that Canst with thine eyes at once see good and euill, Inclining to them both: were my Wiues Liuer Infected (as her life) she would not liue The running of one Gla.s.se

Cam. Who do's infect her?

Leo. Why he that weares her like her Medull, hanging About his neck (Bohemia) who, if I Had Seruants true about me, that bare eyes To see alike mine Honor, as their Profits, (Their owne particular Thrifts) they would doe that Which should vndoe more doing: I, and thou His Cup-bearer, whom I from meaner forme Haue Bench'd, and rear'd to Wors.h.i.+p, who may'st see Plainely, as Heauen sees Earth, and Earth sees Heauen, How I am gall'd, might'st be-spice a Cup, To giue mine Enemy a lasting Winke: Which Draught to me, were cordiall

Cam. Sir (my Lord) I could doe this, and that with no rash Potion, But with a lingring Dram, that should not worke Maliciously, like Poyson: But I cannot Beleeue this Crack to be in my dread Mistresse (So soueraignely being Honorable.) I haue lou'd thee, Leo. Make that thy question, and goe rot: Do'st thinke I am so muddy, so vnsetled, To appoint my selfe in this vexation?

Sully the puritie and whitenesse of my Sheetes (Which to preserue, is Sleepe; which being spotted, Is Goades, Thornes, Nettles, Tayles of Waspes) Giue scandall to the blood o'th' Prince, my Sonne, (Who I doe thinke is mine, and loue as mine) Without ripe mouing to't? Would I doe this?

Could man so blench?

Cam. I must beleeue you (Sir) I doe, and will fetch off Bohemia for't: Prouided, that when hee's remou'd, your Highnesse Will take againe your Queene, as yours at first, Euen for your Sonnes sake, and thereby for sealing The Iniurie of Tongues, in Courts and Kingdomes Knowne, and ally'd to yours

Leo. Thou do'st aduise me, Euen so as I mine owne course haue set downe: Ile giue no blemish to her Honor, none

Cam. My Lord, Goe then; and with a countenance as cleare As Friends.h.i.+p weares at Feasts, keepe with Bohemia, And with your Queene: I am his Cup-bearer, If from me he haue wholesome Beueridge, Account me not your Seruant

Leo. This is all: Do't, and thou hast the one halfe of my heart; Do't not, thou splitt'st thine owne

Cam. Ile do't, my Lord

Leo. I wil seeme friendly, as thou hast aduis'd me.

Exit

Cam. O miserable Lady. But for me, What case stand I in? I must be the poysoner Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do't, Is the obedience to a Master; one, Who in Rebellion with himselfe, will haue All that are his, so too. To doe this deed, Promotion followes: If I could find example Of thousand's that had struck anoynted Kings, And flourish'd after, Il'd not do't: But since Nor Bra.s.se, nor Stone, nor Parchment beares not one, Let Villanie it selfe forswear't. I must Forsake the Court: to do't, or no, is certaine To me a breake-neck. Happy Starre raigne now, Here comes Bohemia.

Enter Polixenes.

Pol. This is strange: Me thinkes My fauor here begins to warpe. Not speake?

Good day Camillo

Cam. Hayle most Royall Sir

Pol. What is the Newes i'th' Court?

Cam. None rare (my Lord.) Pol. The King hath on him such a countenance, As he had lost some Prouince, and a Region Lou'd, as he loues himselfe: euen now I met him With customarie complement, when hee Wafting his eyes to th' contrary, and falling A Lippe of much contempt, speedes from me, and So leaues me, to consider what is breeding, That changes thus his Manners

Cam. I dare not know (my Lord.) Pol. How, dare not? doe not? doe you know, and dare not?

Be intelligent to me, 'tis thereabouts: For to your selfe, what you doe know, you must, And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo, Your chang'd complexions are to me a Mirror, Which shewes me mine chang'd too: for I must be A partie in this alteration, finding My selfe thus alter'd with't

Cam. There is a sicknesse Which puts some of vs 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 sighted like the Basilisque.

I haue look'd on thousands, who haue sped the better By my regard, but kill'd none so: Camillo, As you are certainely a Gentleman, thereto Clerke-like experienc'd, which no lesse adornes Our Gentry, then our Parents n.o.ble Names, In whose successe we are gentle: I beseech you, If you know ought which do's behoue my knowledge, Thereof to be inform'd, imprison't not In ignorant concealement

Cam. I may not answere

Pol. A Sicknesse caught of me, and yet I well?

I must be answer'd. Do'st thou heare Camillo, I coniure thee, by all the parts of man, Which Honor do's acknowledge, whereof the least Is not this Suit of mine, that thou declare What incidencie thou do'st ghesse of harme Is creeping toward me; how farre off, how neere, Which way to be preuented, if to be: If not, how best to beare it

Cam. Sir, I will tell you, Since I am charg'd in Honor, and by him That I thinke Honorable: therefore marke my counsaile, Which must be eu'n as swiftly followed, as I meane to vtter it; or both your selfe, and me, Cry lost, and so good night

Pol. On, good Camillo

Cam. I am appointed him to murther you

Pol. By whom, Camillo?

Cam. By the King

Pol. For what?

Cam. He thinkes, nay with all confidence he sweares, As he had seen't, or beene an Instrument To vice you to't, that you haue toucht his Queene Forbiddenly

Pol. Oh then, my best blood turne To an infected Gelly, and my Name Be yoak'd with his, that did betray the Best: Turne then my freshest Reputation to A sauour, that may strike the dullest Nosthrill Where I arriue, and my approch be shun'd, Nay hated too, worse then the great'st Infection That ere was heard, or read

Cam. Sweare his thought ouer By each particular Starre in Heauen, and By all their Influences; you may as well Forbid the Sea for to obey the Moone, As (or by Oath) remoue, or (Counsaile) shake The Fabrick of his Folly, whose foundation Is pyl'd vpon 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 Auoid what's growne, then question how 'tis borne.

If therefore you dare trust my honestie, That lyes enclosed in this Trunke, which you Shall beare along imp.a.w.nd, away to Night, Your Followers I will whisper to the Businesse, And will by twoes, and threes, at seuerall Posternes, Cleare them o'th' Citie: For my selfe, Ile put My fortunes to your seruice (which are here By this discouerie lost.) Be not vncertaine, For by the honor of my Parents, I Haue vttred Truth: which if you seeke to proue, I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer, Then one condemnd by the Kings owne mouth: Thereon his Execution sworne

Pol. I doe beleeue thee: I saw his heart in's face. Giue me thy hand, Be Pilot to me, and thy places shall Still neighbour mine. My s.h.i.+ps are ready, and My people did expect my hence departure Two dayes agoe. This Iealousie Is for a precious Creature: as shee's rare, Must it be great; and, as his Person's mightie, Must it be violent: and, as he do's conceiue, He is dishonor'd by a man, which euer Profess'd to him: why his Reuenges must In that be made more bitter. Feare ore-shades me: Good Expedition be my friend, and comfort The gracious Queene, part of his Theame; but nothing Of his ill-ta'ne suspition. Come Camillo, I will respect thee as a Father, if Thou bear'st my life off, hence: Let vs auoid

Cam. It is in mine authoritie to command The Keyes of all the Posternes: Please your Highnesse To take the vrgent houre. Come Sir, away.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Hermione, Mamillius, Ladies: Leontes, Antigonus, Lords.

Shakespeare's First Folio Part 242

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Shakespeare's First Folio Part 242 summary

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