The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare

That little thinks she has been sluc'd in his ab

sence,

And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't, [open'd, Whiles other men have gates; and those gates 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, [cluded, From east, west, north, and south: Be it conNo barricado for a belly; know it; It will let in and out the eneiny,

With bag and baggage: many a thousand of us Have the disease, and feel't not. -How now, boy?

Mam. I am like you, they say. Leon. Why that's some comfort.What! Camillo there?

Cam. Ay, my good lord.

man.

Leon. Go play, Mamillius; thou'rt an honest (Exit MAMILLIUS. Camillo, this great Sir will yet stay longer. Cam. You bad much ado to make bis anchor hold;

When you cast ont, it still came home.
Leon. Didst note it?

Cam. He would not stay at your petitions; His business more inaterial. [made whispering,

Leon. Didst perceive it ?

They're here with me already;

rounding,

Sicilia is a so-forth: 'Tis far gone,

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 trespas
By its own visage: if I then deny it,
'Tis none of mine.

Leon. Have not you seen, Camillo, (But that's past doubt you bave; or your eyeglass

Is thicker than a cuckold's horn :) or heard, (For, to a vision so apparent, rumour Cannot be mute,) or thought, (for cogitation Resides not in that man, that does not think it,) My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess, (Or else be impudently negative, To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought,) the a

say,

My wife's a hobby-horse: deserves a name 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 Thau this; which to reiterate, were sin As deep as that, though true.

Leon. Is whispering nothing?

When I shall gust it last.-How came't, Camillo, Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses ? That he did stay?

Cam. At the good queen's entreaty.

Kissing with inside hip? stopping the career Of laughter with a sigh ? (a note infallible

Leon. At the queen's, be't: good, should be of breaking honesty :) horsing foot on foot?

Skulking in corners ? wishing clocks more swift? Hours, minutes? noon, miduight? and all eyes blind

With the pin and web, but their's, their's only, That would unseen be wicked? Is this nothing? Why, then the world, and all that's in't, is nothing;

The covering sky is nothing: Bohemia nothing; My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings

If this be nothing.

Cam. Good my lord, be cur'd

Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes;
For 'tis most dangerous.

Leon. Say, it be; 'tis true.

Cam. No, no, my lord.

Leon. It is; you lie, you lie :

I say thon 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 ber life, she would not live
The running of one glass. +

Cam. Who does infect ber?

Leon. Why he, that wears her like her medal, banging

About his neck, Bohemia: Who-if I
Had servants true about me: that bare eyes
To see alike mine honour as their profits,
Their own particular thrifts, they would do

that

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 spotted,

being

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: +

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 your's at first;
Even for your son's sake; and, thereby, for
sealing

The injury of tongues, in courts and kingdowns
Known and allied to your's.

Leon. Thou dost advise me,

Even so as 1 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

hemia,

Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd 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 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'the court?
Cam. None rare, my lord.

Pol. The king bath 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,
Watting 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 to: for I must be
A party in this alteration, finding
Myself thus alter'd with it.

Maliciously, with effects openly hurtful. + Le. Could any man so start off from propriety?

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, +1 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, aud 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 thon 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 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, t Pol. By whom, Camillo ?

Cam. By the king.

Pol. For what ?

Forbiddenly.

Pol. Oh! 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 shumu'd,
Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection
That e'er was heard, or read !

Cum. 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, aud 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 inclosed in this trunk, which you
Shail bear along inpawn'd,-away to-night.
Your followers I will whisper to the business;
And will, by twos and threes, at several pos-
terus,

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

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
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

Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, and LADIES.
Her. Take the boy to you: he so troubles me,

'Tis past enduring.

1 Lady. Come, my gracious lord,

Shall I be your playfellow ?

Mam. No, I'll none of you.

1 Lady. Why, my sweet lord?

Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, LORDS, and others.

Leon. Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?

1 Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them;

never

Saw I men scour so on their way: I ey'd them
Even to their ships.

Leon. How bless'd 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

The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known
How he hath drank, he cracks his gorge, his
sides,

With violent hefts: -I have drank, and seen
the spider.

Camillo was his help in his, his pander :-
There is a plot against my life, my crown;
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
Remain a pinch'd thing; yea, a very trick
For them to play at will:-How came the posterus
So casily open?

1 Lord. 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

bim :

Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you
Have too much blood in him.

Her. What is this? sport?

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

Mam. You'll kiss me hard; and speak to me Has made thee swell thus.

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 simi-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.

Her. But I'd say, he had not,

And, I'll be sworn, you would believe my saying,
Howe'er you lean to the nayward.

Leon. 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 pretty brands,
That calumny doth use:-Oh! I am out,
That mercy does; for calumny will sear ||

Mum. Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a Virtue itself :-these shrugs, these hums, and

And tell's a tale.

Mam. Merry, or sad, shall't be?

Her. As merry as you will.

Mam. A sad tale's best for winter:

1 have one of sprites and goblins. Her. Let's have that, Sir.

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;-1 will tell it
softly;

Yon crickets shall not hear it.

Her. Come on then,

And give't me in mine ear.

ller. 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.

Leon. 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 adultress; I have said with whom
More, she's a traitor; and Camillo is

A federary with ber; and one that knows
What she would 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.

Her. No, by my life,

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.

Leon. No, no; if I mistake

In those foundations which 1 build upon,
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. +

Her. There's some ill planet reigns:
1 must be patient, till the heavens look
With an aspect 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. Sball 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
mistress

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:

1 never wish'd to see you sorry; now,

Ant. If it be so,

We need no grave to bury honesty;
There's not a grain of it, the face to sweeten
Of the whole dungy earth,

Leon. What! lack I credit?

1 Lord. I had rather you did lack, than I my lord, [me Upon this ground and more it would content 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 good-

ness

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 our's.

Ant. And I wish, my liege,

You had only in your silent judgment tried it,
Without more overture.

Leon. 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,
But only seeing, all other circumstances
Made up to the deed,) doth push on this pro
ceeding:

Yet, for a greater confirmation,

(For, in an act of this importance, 'twere
Most piteous to be wild, I have despatch'd in
post,

I trust, I shall.--My women, come; you have To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple,

leave.

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
For every inch of woman in the world, (her;
Ay, every dram of woman's flesh, is false,
If she be.

Leon. Hold your peaces.

1 Lord. Good my lord,

Ant. It is for you we speak, not for ourselves:
You are abus'd, and by some putter-on,
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, uine, 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.

Leon. Cease; no more.

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 instrumen's that feel.

Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know

Of stuff'd sufficiency: Now, from the oracle
They will bring all; whose spiritual counsel bad,
Shall stop, or spur me. Have I done well?
1 Lord. Well done, my lord.

Leon. Though! am satisfied, and need no

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.
Paul. Pray you, then,

Conduct me to the queen.

Keep. I may not, madam; to the contrary

I have express commandment.

Paul. Here's ado,

To lock up honesty and honour from

The access of gentle visitors!Is it lawful,
Pray you, to see her women! any of them ?
Emilia ?

Keep. So please you, madam, to put Apart these your attendants, I shall bring Emilia forth.

Paul. I pray now, call her. Withdraw yourselves.

Keep. And, madam,

Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank
And level of my brain, plot-proof; but she
I can hook to me: Say, that she were gone,
Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest
[Exeunt Attend. Might come to me again.--Who's there?

I must be present at your conference.
Paul. Well, be it so, pr'ythee.

(Exit KEEPER. Here's such ado to make no stain a stain, As passes colouring.

Re-enter KEEPER, with EMILIA. Dear gentlewoman, how fares our gracious lady? Emil. As well as one so great, and so forlorn,

May hold together: On her frights, and griefs, (Which never tender lady hath borne greater,) She is, something before her time, deliver'd." Paul. A boy?

Emil. A daughter; and a goodly babe, Lusty, and like to live: the queen receives Much comfort in't: says, My poor prisoner,

I am innocent as you.

Paul. I dare be sworn.

1 Atten. My lord?

Leon. How does the boy?

[Advancing

1 Attend. He took good rest to-night; 'Tis hop'd, his sickness is discharg'd. Leon. To see,

His nobleness!

Conceiving the dishonour of his mother,
He straight declin'd, droop'd, took it deeply;
Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on't in himself;
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
And downright languish'd.-Leave me solely : +
-go,

See how he fares. [Erit Attend.]—Fie, fie! no thought of him ;

The very thought of my revenges that way
Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty;
And in his parties, his alliance,- Let him be,
Until a time may serve for present vengeance,
Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes
Laugh at me; make their pastime at my sorrow :

These dangerous unsafe lunes o'the king! be- They should not laugh, if I could reach them;

shrew them!

He must be told on't, and he shall: the office
Becomes a woman best; I'll take't upon me:
If I prove honey-mouth'd, let my tongue blister;
And never to my red-look'd anger be
The trumpet any more :-Pray you, Emilia,
Commend my best obedience to the queen;
If she dares trust me with her little babe,
I'll show't the king, and undertake to be
Her advocate to th' loudest: We do not know
How he may soften at the sight o'the child;
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades, when speaking fails.

Emil. Most worthy madam,

Your honour, and your goodness, is so evident,
That your free undertaking cannot miss
A thriving issue; there is no lady living,
So meet for this great errand; Please your
ship

1 Atten. Madain, he hath not slept to-night; commanded

None should come at him.

Paul. Not so hot, good Sir;

I come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you,That creep like shadows by him, and do sigh lady-At each his needless heavings, such as you Nourish the cause of his awaking: I

Keep. Madam, if't please the queen to send the babe,

I know not what I shall incur, to pass it,
Having no warrant.

Paul. You need not fear it, Sir:

The child was prisoner to the womb; and is,
By law and process of great nature, thence

Freed and enfranchis'd: not a party to
The auger of the king; nor guilty of,
If any be, the trespass of the queen.
Keep. I do believe it.

Paul. Do not you fear: upon

Mine honour, I will stand 'twixt you and danger.

[Exeunt. SCENE III.-The same.-A Room in the Palace.

Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, LORDS, and other

ATTENDANTS.

Do come with words as med'cinal as true; Honest, as either: to purge him of that humour, That presses him from sleep.

Leon. What noise there, ho?

Paul. No noise, my lord; but needful conference,

About some gossips for your highness.
Leon. How ?--

Away with that audacions lady: Antigonus,

I charg'd thee that she should not come about ine; I knew she would.

Ant. I told her so, my lord,

On your displeasure's peril, and on mine,
She should not visit you.

Leon. What, canst not rule her?

Paul. From all dishonesty, he can in this, (Unless he take the course that you have done, Commit me, for committing honour,) trust it, He shall not rule me.

Ant. Lo you now; you hear!

When she will take the rein, I let her run;
But she'll not stumble.

Paul. Good my liege, I come,

And, I beseech you, hear me, who profess
Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
Your most obedient counsellor; yet that dare
Less appear so, in comforting your evils,
Than such as most seems your's :-I say, I come
From your good queen.

Leon. Good queen!

Paul. Good queen, my lord, good queen: I say, good queen;

Leon. Nor night, nor day, no rest: It is but And would by combat make her good, so were I

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare, Volume 10