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You never spoke what did become you less
Leon. Is whispering nothing?
Is leaning cheek to cheek? Is meeting noses?
Cam. Good my lord, be cured
Of this diseased opinion, and betimes;
Leon. Say, it be; 'tis true.
Cam. No, no, my lord.
Leon. It is; you lie, you lie:
I say, thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee;
Cam. Who does infect her?
Leon. Why, he that wears her like his medal,3 hanging About his neck, Bohemia. Who—if I Had servants true about me, that bare eyes To see alike mine honor as their profits, Their own particular thrifts,—they would do that
i The pin and web is the cataract in an early stage.
2 i. e. one hour.
3 The old copy reads, "her medal."
Which should undo more doing. Ay, and thou,
His cupbearer,—whom I from meaner form
Have benched, and reared to worship; who mayst see
Plainly, as heaven sees earth, and earth sees heaven,
How I am galled,—mightst bespice a cup,1
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 2 potion,
Leon. Make't thy question, and go rot !3
Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled,
Cam. I must believe you, sir.
I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't;
1 "Bespice a cup." So in Chapman's Translation of the tenth book of the Odyssey:—
16 with a festival
She'll first receive thee; but will spice thy bread
2 Rash is hasty; as in King Henry IV. Part II. "rash gunpowder." Maliciously is malignantly, with effects openly hurtful.
3 Make that, i. e. Hermione's disloyalty, which is a clear point, a subject of doubt, and go rot! Dost think I am such a fool as to torment myself, and bring disgrace on me and my child, without sufficient grounds?
4 Something is necessary to complete the verse. Hanmer reads:—
"Is goads and thorns, nettles and tails of wasps." 5 To blench is to start off, to shrink.
Even for your son's sake; and thereby, for sealing
Leon. Thou dost advise me,
Even so as I mine own course have set down.
Cam. My lord,
Go then; and with a countenance as clear
Leon. This is all;
Do't, and thou hast the one half of my heart;
Cam. I'll do't, my lord.
Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised me. [Exit.
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 flourished 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.
Pol. This is strange! Methinks
My favor here begins to warp. Not speak ?—
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 Loved 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 changed complexions are to me a mirror, Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be A party in this alteration, finding Myself thus altered with it.
Cam. There is a sickness
Which puts some of us in distemper; but
Pol. How! caught of me?
Make me not sighted like the basilisk.
Cam. I may not answer.
Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well! I must be answered.—Dost thou hear, Camillo, I conjure thee, by all the parts of man, Which honor does acknowledge,—whereof the least Is not this suit of mine,—that thou declare
1 Success, for succession. Gentle, well born, was opposed to simple.
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 charged in honor, and by him
Pol. On, good Camillo.
Cam. I am appointed him to murder you.1
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 vice2 you to't,—that you have touched his queen Forbiddenly.
Pol. O, then my best blood turn
To an infected jelly; and my name
Cam. Swear his thought over4
By each particular star in heaven, and
1 "lam appointed him to murder you;" I am the person appointed to murder you.
2 i. e. to screw or move you to it A vice, in Shakspeare's time, meant any kind of winding screw. The vice of a clock was a common expression.
3 That is, Judas.
4 « Swear his thought over." The meaning apparently is, " Over-swear his thought by," &c.