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Camillo, this great Sir will yet ftay longer.

Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor hold; When you cast out, it still came home..

Leo. Didst note it?

Cam. He would not stay at your petitions made; His business more material..

Leo. Didit perceive it? They're here with me already; whisp’ring, rounding: Sicilia is a so-forth ; 'tis far gone, When I shall gust it last. How.came't, Camillo, That he did ftay?

Cam. At the good Queen's entreaty.

Leo. 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 feverals Of head-piece extraordinary; lower messes, Perchance, are to this business purblind ? say.

Cam. Business, my Lord ? I think, most understand: Bohemia itays here longer. .

Leo. Ha?
Cam. Stays here longer. .
Leo. Ay, but why?

Cam. To satisfy your Highness, and th' intreaties. Of our most gracious mistress.

Leo. Satisfy
Th’entreaties of your mistress - fatisfy
Let that suffice. I've trusted thee, Camillo,
With all the things neareft my heart; as well
My chamber-councils, wherein, priest like, thou-,
Haft cleans'd by bofom : I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform'd; but we have been
Deceiv'd in thy integrity; deceiv'd
In that, which seems fo.

Cam. Be it forbid; my Lord

Leo. To bide upon't ;--Thou art not honeft; or, If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward ; Which hoxes honefty behind, reftraining

From:

From course requir'd; or else thou must be counted
A servant grafted in my serious trust,
And therein negligent; or else a fool,
That seest a game plaid home, the rich stake drawn,.
And tak’ft it all for jeft.,

Cam, My gracious Lord,
I may be negligent, foolish and fearful; (5)
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 induftriopíly
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 infects the wiseft : 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.

Leo. Ha’not you seen, Camillo, (But that's pait' doubt, you have ; or your eye-glase: Is thicker than a cuckold's horn ;) or heard, (For a vision so apparent, rumour Cannot be mute ;) or thought, (for cogitation Resides not in that man, that do's not think it ;) (5) I may be negligen, foolish, and fearful;

In every one of i bese no man is free,
But ibat his negligence, kis fully, fiar,
Amongfi ibe infrite doings of the suorld

Semetiir.es puts forth in your a Sairs, my Lord.] Most accurate pointing this, and fine nonsense the result of it! The old folio's first blunder'd thus, and Mr. Rowe by inadvertence (if he read the sheets at all,) overlook'd the fault. Mr. P<te, likera moft obfequious editot, has taken the passage on conteni, and pursued the track of

tupidity. I dare say, every understanding reader will allow, my reformation of the pointing has entirely retriev'd the place from obScurity, and reconcil'd it to the author's meaning.

My wife is flippery? if thou wilt, confess;
(Or else be impudently negative,
To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought;) then says,
My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name.
As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight: fay't, and justify't.

са I would not be a ftander-by, to hear
My sovereign Mistress 'clouded so, without
My present vengeance taken ; 'hrew my hearts.
You never fpoke what did become

you

less Than this ; which to reiterate, were fin. As deep as that, tho' true..

Leo. Is whispering nothing ?
Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meating noses?
Kifling with infide lip? stopping the career
Qf laughter with a figh? (a note infallible
Of breaking honefty :) horfing foot on foot?
Skulking in corners? wishing cloeks more swift?
Hours, minutes ? the noon, midnight, and all eyes.
Blind with the pin and web, but theirs; theirs 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, Bobemia 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.

Leo. Say it be, , 'tis true.
Cam. No;. nos.my Lord.

Leo. It is; you lye, you lye :
I say, thou lielt, Camillo, and I hate thee ;
Pronounce thee a gross-low.t, a mindless llave,
Or else a hovering temporizer, that
Qanft with thine eyes at once see good and evilg.
Inclining to them both': were my wife's liver.
Infected, as her life, she would not live
The running of one glass.

Cam. Who, do's infect her?
Leo. Why he, that wears her like his medal, hanging:

About

About his geck; Bobemia, 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
Which should undo more doing : I, and thou
His cup-bearer, (whom I from meaner form
Have bench'd, and rear'd to worship; who may't see
Plainly, as hear'n sees earth, and earth sees heav'n,
How I am gallid ;) thou might'st be-spice 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 rafh potion,
But with a lingring dram, that should not work,
Maliciously, like poison : but I cannot (6)
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable.

Leo. I'velov'd thee. -Make't thy question, and gorot: Do'st 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 :) Ġive scandal to the blood o'th' Prince,

my

ron,
Who, I do think, is mine, and love as mine,
(6)

but I cannot
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So fovereignly being bonourable.

I have lov's thee. Leo. Make tbat thy question and go rer.] This passage wants wery little weighing, to determine fafely upon it, that the last hemistich affign'd to Camillo, must have been mistakenly placed to him. It is a , Atrange instance of disrespect and insolence in Camillo to his king and master, to tell him that he has once lov'd him. But lense and reaion will easily acquit our Poet from luan an impropriety. I have ventur'd at a transpofition, which seems self evident, Camillo will not be persuaded into a fufpicion of the disloyalty imputed to his mis. tress. The King, who believes nothing but his jealousy, provok'd that Camillo is so obftinately diffident, finely starts into a rage and cries; I've lov'd thee. -Make't iby question, and go rot.

i. e. I have tender'd thee well, Camille, but I'here cancel all former respect at ance. If thou any longer make a question of my wife's difoyalty ; Bu fram my presence, and pordition overtake thee for thy stubbornness.

Without

you, Sir;

Without ripe moving to't? would I do this ?:
Could man fo blench?

Cam. I must believe
I do, and will fetch off Bohemia fort :
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 ally'd 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 feafts, keep with Bohemia,,
And with your Queen: I am his cup-bearer ;
If from me he have wholesome beveridge,
Account me not your

servant.
Leo. This is all ;
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 (Exito,

Cam. O miserable Lady! but for me,
What cafe 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, fo too. To do this deed,
Promotion follows. If I could find example
Of thousands, that had struck anointed Kings,
And flouril'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

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