The Works of William Shakespeare

That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake
And tak'st it all for jest.
[drawn,
Cam.

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,
Among 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 infects 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.
Leon.

Have not you seen, Camillo,

medal, hanging

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

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
mayst see
[heaven,
Plainly, as heaven sees earth, and earth sees
How I am galled,-mightst bespice 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 rash potion, (But that's past doubt; you have; or your eye-But with a lingering dram, that should not work Maliciously, like poison: but I cannot Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, So sovereignly being honourable. I have lov'd thee,

glass

Is thicker than a cuckhold'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,)
My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess,
(Or else be impudently negative,
[say
To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought), then
My wife's a hobbyhorse; 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
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?
[blind
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes
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 no-
thing;

The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing;
My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these
If this be nothing.
[nothings,
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 thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee; Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave; Or else a hovering temporizer, that

Leon. Make that 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?

Cam.

I must believe you, sir: I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't; [ness Provided, that when he's remov'd, your highWill 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 allied to yours.
Leon.
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 feasts, keep with Bo-
hemia,

And with your queen. I am his cupbearer : If from me he have wholesome beverage, Account me not your servant.

Leon.

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. 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

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
A party to this alteration, finding [must be
Myself thus alter'd with't.

Cam.
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 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,
[knowledge
If you know aught which does behove my
Thereof to be inform'd, imprison it not
In ignorant concealment.

Cam.

I may not answer. Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well!

Pol.
On, good Camillo.
Cam. I am appointed him to murder you.
Pol. By whom, Camillo?
Cam.

Pol.

By the king.

For what?

Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence

he swears,

As he had seen't, or been an instrument
To vice you to't, that you have touch'd his
Forbiddenly.

Pol.

[queen

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 [born. Avoid what's grown, than question how 'tis 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 pos

Pol.

I do believe thee.
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

I must be answer'd.-Dost thou hear, Camillo, | My people did expect my hence departure

I conjure thee, by all the parts of man
Which honour does acknowledge,-whereof

the least

Is not this suit of mine,-that thou declare

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

Her. Nay, come, sit down; then on.
Mam. Dwelt by a churchyard :-I will tell

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 Yond' crickets shall not hear it. [it softly;

SCENE I.-Sicilia. A Room in the Palace.
Enter Hermione, Mamillius, and Ladies.
Her. Take the boy to you: he so troubles
Tis past enduring.
[me,
1 Lady.
Come, my gracious ford,
Shall I be your playfellow?
Mam.
No, I'll none of you.
1 Lady. Why, my sweet lord? [me as if
Mam. You'll kiss me hard; and speak to
I were a baby still.-I love you better.
2 Lady. And why so, my 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 semi-circle,
Or a half-moon made with a pen.
2 Lady.
Who taught you this?
Mam. I learn'd it out of women's faces.-
What colour are your eyebrows? [Pray now,
1 Lady.
Blue, my lord.
Mam. Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a
lady's nose

Hark ye;

Her.
And give't me in mine ear.

Come on, then,

Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords, and
Guards.

Leon. Was he met there? his train? Camillo
[never

with him?

1 Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them; 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 drunk, he cracks his gorge, his
sides,
[the spider.
With violent hefts:-I have drunk, and seen
Camillo was his help in this, 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 pos-
So easily open?
[terns
By his great authority;
Which often hath no less prevail'd than so,
On your command.
Leon.

I Lord.

I know't too well.

[To Hermione.] Give me the boy : I am glad
you did not nurse him :
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;

That has been blue, but not her eyebrows. 2 Lady. The queen, your mother, rounds apace: we With that she's big with; for 'tis Polixenes shall

Away with him!-[Exit Mamillius, attended.] and let her sport herself

Present our services to a fine new prince,
One of these days; and then you'd wanton
If we would have you.
[with us,
1 Lady.
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.

Mam.

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.
Her.

Let's have that, good sir.
Come on; sit down :-come on, and do your

best

To fright me with your sprites; you're power-
Mam. There was a man,- [ful at it.

Has made thee swell thus.

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 petty brands
That calumny doth use,-O, 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't known, [should be, From him that has most cause to grieve it She's an adult'ress.

Her. 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 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 boldest titles; ay, and privy
To this their late escape.

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.

In those foundations which I build upon,
The centre is not big enough to bear
A schoolboy'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: I 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. To the Guards.] Shall I be heard?
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

your mistress

know

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,

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.
Ant.
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 farther
trust her:

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

Leon. Hold your peaces!
I 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, [flaw'd,

I would land-damn him. Be she honour-
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.
Leon.

Cease; no more. You smell this business with a sense as cold As is a dead man's nose: but I do see't and feel't,

As you feel doing thus; and see withal
The instruments that feel.
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? I 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
goodness

Imparts this; which, if you (or stupified
Or seeming so in skill) cannot or will not
Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves,
We need no more of your advice: the matter,

I trust, I shall.-My women, come; you have The loss, the gain, the ordering on't, is all leave.

Leon. Go, do our bidding; hence!

Properly ours. Ant.

And I wish, my liege,

[Exeunt Queen and Ladies with Guards. You had only in your silent judgment tried it,

Either thou art most ignorant by age,
Camillo's flight,

Or thou wert born a fool.
Added to their familiarity,
(Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture,
That lack'd sight only, naught for approbation
But only seeing, all other circumstances
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 stufi'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. [more Leon. Though I am satisfied, and need no Than what I know, yet shall the oracle

Paul. Well, be't 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.'
I dare be sworn :-

Paul.

These dangerous unsafe lunes i' the king, be-
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

Give rest to the minds of others; such as he,The trumpet any more.-Pray you, Emilia,
Whose ignorant credulity will not [good,
Come up to the truth. So have we thought it
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.-Sicilia. The outer Room of a
Prison.

Enter Paulina and Attendants.

Paul. The keeper of the prison,-call to him: Let him have knowledge who I am.-[Exit an Attendant.] Good lady!

No court in Europe is too good for thee,
What dost thou, then, in prison?--
Re-enter Attendant with the Keeper.
Now, good sir,

You know me, do you not?

Keep.

For a worthy lady,

Pray you, then,

And one whom much I honour.
Paul.

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
Th access of gentle visitors!-Is't 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.

Withdraw yourselves.

I pray now, call her.

[Exeunt Attendants.
And, madam,

Kup.
I must be present at your conference.

Commend my best obedience to the queen :
If she dares trust me with her little babe,
I'll show it the king, and undertake to be
Her advocate to the loudest. We do not know
How he may soften at the sight of 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.

ladyship

Please your

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The Works of William Shakespeare: Life, Glossary, &c : Reprinted ..., Volume 1