Leon. To your own bents dispose you: you'll be
We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain :|We are yours i'the garden: Shall's attend you
And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,
Are all call'd, neat.-Still virginalling!
[Observing Polixenes and Hermione.
Upon his palm?-How now, you wanton calf?
Art thou my calf?
Mam.
Yes, if you will, my lord. Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the shoots that I have,2
To be full like me :-yet, they say, we are
Almost as like as eggs; women say so,
That will say any thing: But were they false
As o'er-died blacks, as wind, as waters; false
As dice are to be wish'd, by one that fixes
No bourn twixt his and mine; yet were it true
To say this boy were like me.-Come, sir page,
Look on me with your welkin' eye: Sweet villain!
Most dear'st! my collop!-Can thy dam ?-may't
Affection! thy infection stabs the centre: Thou dost make possible, things not so held, Communicat'st with dreams;--(How can this With what's unreal thou coactive art,
Be you beneath the sky :-I am angling now,
Though you perceive me not how I give line.
Go to, go to!
[Aside. Observing Polixenes and Hermione.
How she holds up the neb, 10 the bill to him!
And arms her with the boldness of a wife
To her allowing husband! Gone already;
Inch-thick, knee-deep; o'er head and ears a fork'd
[Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione, and attendants. Go, play, boy, play ;-thy mother plays, and I Play too; but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue Will hiss me to my grave; contempt and clamour Will be my knell.-Go, play, boy, play;-There have been,
Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now;
And many a man there is, even at this present,
be?)-Now, while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm,
That little thinks she has been sluic'd in his absence,
And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by
Sir Smile, his neighbour : nay, there's comfort in't,
Whiles other men have gates; and those gates
open'd,
And fellow'st nothing: Then, 'tis very credent," Thou may'st co-join with something; and thou dost;
(And that beyond commission; and I find it,)
And that to the infection of my brains,
And hardening of my brows.
Pol.
What means Sicilia?
Her. He something seems unsettled.
Pol.
How, my lord? What cheer? how is't with you, best brother? Her.
As if you held a brow of much distraction:
Are you mov'd, my lord?
Leon.
As mine, against their will: Should all despair That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is none; It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it, From east, west, north, and south: Be it concluded, No barricado for a belly; know it;
It will let in and out the enemy,
With bag and baggage: many a thousand of us
No, in good earnest.-Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy?
Mam. I am like you, they say.
Leon.
How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methoughts, I did recoil
Twenty-three years; and saw myself unbreech'd,
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled,
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This squash, this gentleman :-mine honest friend,
Will you take eggs for money?"
Mum. No, my lord, I'll fight.
Leon. You will? why, happy man be his dole!-
My brother,
Are you so fond of your young prince, as we
Do seem to be of ours?
Pol.
If at home, sir,
He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter:
Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy;
My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all;
He makes a July's day short as December;
And, with his varying childness, cures in me
Thoughts that would thick my blood.
Leon.
So stands this squire
Offic'd with me: We two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your graver steps.-Hermione,
How thou lov'st us, show in our brother's welcome;
Let what is dear in Sicily, be cheap:
Next to thyself, and my young rover, he's
Apparent to my heart.
Why, that's some comfort.What! Camillo there?
Sicilia is a so-forth: "Tis far gone,
When I shall gust14 it last.-How came't, Camillo,
That he did stay?
Cam.
At the good queen's entreaty.
Leon. At the queen's, be't: good, should be
pertinent;
But so it is, it is not. Was this taken
By any understanding pate but thine?
For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
More than the common blocks :-Not noted, is't,
But of the finer natures? by some severals,
Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes,15
Perchance, are to this business purblind: say.
Cam. Business, my lord? I think, most under-
stand
Bohemia stays here longer.
(8) May his share of life be a happy one!
(9) Heir apparent, next claimant. (10) Mouth.
(11) Approving. (12) A horned one, a cuckold.
(13) Te round in the ear was to tell secretly.
(14) Taste.
(15) Inferiors in rank.
Satisfy
The entreaties of your mistress?-satisfy ?-
Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,
With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
My chamber-counsels: wherein, priest-like, thou
Hast cleans'd my bosom; I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been
Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd
Leon. To bide upon't ;-Thou art not honest: or,
If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward;
Which hoxes' honesty behind, restraining
From course requir'd: Or else thou must be counted
A servant, grafted in my serious trust,
And therein negligent; or else a fool,
Good my lord, be cur'd
Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes;
For 'tis most dangerous.
Leon.
Cam. No, no, my lord.
Leon.
Say, it be; 'tis true.
It is; you lie, you lie :
I say, thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee;
Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave;
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.3
Cam.
Who does infect her?
Leon. Why he, that wears her like her medal,
hanging
That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake About his neck, Bohemia: Who-if I
And tak'st it all for jest.
My gracious lord,
I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful;
In every one of these no man is free,
But that his negligence, his folly, fear,
Amongst the infinite doings of the world,
Sometime puts forth: In your affairs, my lord,
If ever I were wilful-negligent,
It was my folly; if industriously
I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful
To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out
Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
Which oft affects the wisest: these, my lord,
Are such allow'd infirmities, that honesty
Is never free of. But, 'beseech your grace,
Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass
By its own visage: if I then deny it,
'Tis none of mine.
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: Ay, and thou
His cup-bearer,-whom I from meaner form
Have bench'd, and rear'd to worship; who may'st
Leon.
Make't thy question, and go rot.
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' the prince my son,
Who, I do think is mine, and love as mine;
Without ripe moving to't? Would I do this?
Could man so blench ?
I must believe you, sir;
then say, I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't:
Leon.
Have not you seen, Camillo,
(But that's past doubt: you have; or your eye-glass
Is thicker than a cuckold's horn;) or heard
(For, to a vison so apparent, rumour
Cannot be mute,) or thought (for cogitation
Besides not in that man, that does not think it,)
My wife is spy? If thou wilt confess,
(Or else be impau... ly negative,
To have nor eyes, nor cars, nor th
My wife's a hobby-horse; deserves a nome
As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight: say it, and justify it.
Cam. I would not be a stander-by, to hear
My sovereign mistress clouded so, without
My present vengeance taken: 'Shrew my heart,
You never spoke what did become you less
Than this: which to reiterate, were sin
As deep as that, though true.
Leon.
Is whispering nothing?
Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses?
Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career
Of laughter with a sigh? (a note infallible
Of breaking honesty :) horsing foot on foot?
Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift?
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes
With the pin and web,2 but theirs, theirs only,
(1) To hox is to hamstring.
(2) Disorders of the eye.
(3) Hour-glass. (4) Hasty.
Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd Since I am charg'd in honour, and by him
[Exit. That I think honourable: Therefore, mark my
counsel;
Which must be even as swiftly follow'd, as
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.
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'the 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. Do you know, and dare not
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.
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 sighted like the basilisk:
I mean to utter it; or both yourself and me Cry, lost, and so good-night.
On, good Camillo. Cam. I am appointed Him to murder you.' Pol. By whom, Camillo ?
Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he
As he had seen't, or been an instrument
To vice you to't,-that you have touch'd his queen
Forbiddenly.
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' the 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,
I saw his heart in his 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
know-Two days ago.-This jealousy
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
ledge
Thereof to be inform'd, imprison it not
In ignorant concealment.
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
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, 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.
[With violent hefts:-I have drank, and seen the spider. Enter Hermione, Ma- Camillo was his help in this, his pander :SCENE I.-The same. There is a plot against my life, my crown; millius, and Ladies. All's true that is mistrusted:-that false villain, Whom I employ'd, was pre-employ'd by him: He has discover'd my design, and I
Her. Take the boy to you: he so troubles me, 'Tis past enduring. 1 Lady. Shall I be your play-fellow?
Come, my gracious lord,
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.
Remain a pinch'd thing: yea, a very trick
For them to play at will:-How came the posterns
So easily open?
By his great authority;
Which often hath no less prevail'd than so,
On your command.
Leon. I know't too well.Give me the boy; I am glad, you did not nurse him: Your brows are blacker: yet black brows, they say, Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you
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.
Who taught you this?
2 Lady.
Mam. I learn'd it out of women's faces.-Pray
What colour are your eye-brows?
Lady.
Have too much blood in him.
What is this? sport?
Her.
Leon. Bear the boy hence, he shall not come
about her;
Away with him:-and let her sport herself With that she's big with; for 'tis Polixenes Has made thee swell thus. Blue, my lord. But I'd say, he had not, Her. Mam. Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a lady's And, I'll be sworn you would believe my saying, Howe'er you lean to the nayward. You, my lords, Leon. 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:
That has been blue, but not her eye-brows.
2 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'd wanton with us,
She is spread of late
Into a goodly bulk: Good time encounter her!
Her. What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come,
sir, now
I am for you again: Pray you sit by us,
And tell 's a tale.
Merry, or sad, shall't be?
Her. As merry as you will.
Mam.
A sad tale's best for winter:
I have one of sprites and goblins.
Let's have that, sir.
Her.
Come on, sit down:-Come on, and do your best
To fright me with your sprites: you're powerful
at it.
Mam. There was a man,-
Her.
Nay, come, sit down; then on. Mam. Dwelt by a church-yard;-I will tell it softly;
Yon crickets shall not hear it.
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:-0, I am out,
That mercy does; for 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 it known,
From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,
She's an adultress.
Should a villain say so,
The most replenish'd villain in the world,
He were as much more villain: you, my lord,
Do but mistake.
You have mistook, my lady,
Polixenes for Leontes: O thou thing,
Which I'll not call a creature of thy place,
Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,
Should a like language use to all degrees,
And mannerly distinguishment leave out
Betwixt the prince and beggar!--I have said,
She's an adult ress; I have said with whom :
More, she's a traitor; and Camillo is
A federary with her; and one that knows
What she should shame to know herself,
But with her most vile principal, that she's
A bed-swerver, even as bad as those
That vulgars give bold titles; ay, and privy
To this their late escape.
How bless'd am I
No, by my life,
Her.
Privy to none of this: How will this grieve you,
When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that
You thus have publish'd me? Gentle my lord,
You scarce can right me throughly then, to say
You did mistake.
1 Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them;
Saw I men scour so on their way: I cy'd them
Even to their ships.
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
The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known
How he hath drank, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
The centre is not big enough to bear
A school-boy's top.-Away with her to prison:
He, who shall speak for her, is afar off guilty,'
But that he speaks.2
Her.
There's some ill planet reigns:
I must be patient, till the heavens look
With an aspéct more favourable.--Good my
lords,
I am not prone to weeping, as our sex
Commonly are: the want of which vain dew,
Perchance, shall dry your pities: but I have
That honourable grief lodg'd here, which burns
Worse than tears drown: 'Beseech you all, my
lords,
With thoughts so qualified as your charities
Shall best instruct you, measure me;-and so
The king's will be perform'd!
Leon.
Shall I be heard? [To the guards. Her. Who is't, that goes with me ?-'Beseech your highness,
My women may be with me; for, you see,
My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools;
There is no cause: when you shall know, your
Has deserv'd prison, then abound in tears, As I come out: this action, I now go on, Is for my better grace.-Adieu, my lord:
I never wish'd to see you sorry; now,
We need no grave to bury honesty ; There's not a grain of it, the face to sweeten Of the whole dungy earth. What! lack I credit? 1 Lord. I had rather you did lack, than I, my lord,
Upon this ground: and more it would content me
To have her honour true, than your suspicion;
Be blam'd for't how you might.
Leon.
Why, what need we
Commune with you of this? but rather follow
Our forceful instigation. Our prerogative
Calls not your counsels; but our natural goodness
Imparts this: which,-if you (or stupified,
Or seeming so in skill,) cannot, or will not,
Relish as truth, like us; inform yourselves,
We need no more of your advice: the matter,
The loss, the gain, the ordering on't, is all
Properly ours.
And I wish, my liege,
You had only in your silent judgment tried it,
Without more overture.
How could that be?
Either thou art most ignorant by age,
Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight,
Added to their familiarity,
(Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture.
That lack'd sight only, nought for approbation,"
I trust, I shall.-My women, come; you have But only seeing, all other circumstances
Leon. Go, do our bidding; hence.
[Exeunt Queen and Ladies. 1 Lord. 'Beseech your highness, call the queen again.
Ant. Be certain what you do, sir; lest your justice Prove violence; in the which three great ones suffer, Yourself, your queen, your son. 1 Lord.
For her, my lord,I dare my life lay down, and will do't, sir, Please you to accept it, that the queen is spotless I'the eyes of heaven, and to you; I mean, In this which you accuse her.
If it prove She's otherwise, I'll keep my stables where I lodge my wife; I'll go in couples with her; Than when I feel, and see her, no further trust her; For every inch of woman in the world, Ay, every dram of woman's flesh, is false, If she be.
1 Lord. Good my lord,Ant. It is for you we speak, not for ourselves: You are abus'd, and by some putter-on,4 That will be damn'd for't; would I knew the villain,
I would land-damn him: Be she honour-flaw'd,-
I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven ;
The second, and the third, nine, and some five;
If this prove true, they'll pay for't: by mine
honour,
I'll geld them all; fourteen they shall not see,
To bring false generations: they are co-heirs;
And I had rather glib myself, than they
Should not produce fair issue.
You smell this business with a sense as cold As is a dead man's nose: I see't, and feel't, As you feel doing thus; and see withal
The instruments that feel.
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.com.hk/books/content?id=fqIvAAAAMAAJ&hl=zh-CN&output=text&pg=PA281&img=1&zoom=3&q=mean&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U2qjWf48dTLELr2X2fofLeq0btpWA&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=58,1495,433,51)
Made up to the deed,) doth push on this proceeding:
Yet, for a greater confirmation,
(For, in an act of this importance, 'twere
Most piteous to be wild,) I have despatch'd in post,
To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple,
Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
Of stuff'd sufficiency; Now, from the oracle
They will bring all; whose spiritual counsel had,
Shall stop, or spur me. Have I done well?
1 Lord. Well done, my lord.
Leon. Though I am satisfied, and need no more
Than what I know, yet shall the oracle
Give rest to the minds of others; such as he,
Whose ignorant credulity will not
Come up to the truth: So have we thought it good,
From our free person she should be confin'd;
Lest that the treachery of the two, fled hence,
Be left her to perform. Come, follow us;
We are to speak in public: for this business
Will raise us all.
Ant. [Aside.] To laughter, as I take it,
If the good truth were known.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.-The same. The outer room of a
prison. Enter Paulina and attendants.
Paul. The keeper of the prison,-call to him;
[Exit an attendant.
Let him have knowledge who I am.-Good lady!
No court in Europe is too good for thee,
What dost thou then in prison ?-Now, good sir,
Re-enter attendant, with the Keeper.
You know me, do you not?
Keep.
For a worthy lady,
And one whom much I honour.
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To lock up honesty and honour from
The access of gentle visitors!--Is it lawful,
(5) Proof.
(6) Of abilities more than sufficient.
|
