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Mal. Madam, you have done me wrong, Notorious wrong.

Oli. Have L, Malvolio? no.

Mal. Lady, you have. Pray you, peruse that letter:
You must not now deny it is your hand,-
Write from it, if you can, in hand, or phrase;
Or say 'tis not your seal, nor your invention:
You can say none of this: well, grant it then,
And tell me, in the modesty of honour,

Why you have given me such clear lights of favour;
Bade me come smiling and cross-garter'd to you,
To put on yellow stockings, and to frown
Upon Sir Toby and the lighter people:
And, acting this in an obedient hope,
Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd,
Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest,
And made the most notorious geck and gull
That e'er invention play'd on? tell me why.

Oli. Alas, Malvolio, this is not my writing,
Though, I confess, much like the character:
But, out of question, 'tis Maria's hand.
And now I do bethink me, it was she

First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling,
And in such forms which here were presupposed
Upon thee in the letter. Pr'ythee, be content:

This practice hath most shrewdly pass'd upon thee;
But when we know the grounds and authors of it,
Thou shalt be both the plaintiff and the judge
Of thine own cause.

Fab. Good Madam, hear me speak;
And let no quarrel, nor no brawl to come,
Taint the condition of this present hour,

Which I have wonder'd at. In hope it shall not,
Most freely I confess, myself and Toby
Set this device against Malvolio here,
Upon some stubborn and uncourteous parts
We had conceived against him: Maria writ
The letter at Sir Toby's great importance;
In recompense whereof, he hath married her.
How with a sportful malice it was follow'd,
May rather pluck on laughter than revenge;
If that the injuries be justly weigh'd,
that have on both sides pass'd.

Oli, Alsa, poor fool, how have they baffled thee!

Clo. Why, "some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrown upon them." I was one, Sir, in this interlude; one Sir Topas, Sir; but that's all one." By the Lord, fool, I am not mad;"but do you remember? "Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal? an you smile not, he's gagg'd:" and thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. Mal. I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you. [Exit

Oli. He hath been most notoriously abused.
Duke. Pursue him, and entreat him to a peace:-
He hath not told us of the captain yet;
When that is known, and golden time convents,
A solemn combination shall be made
Of our dear souls.-Meantime, sweet sister,
We will not part from hence.-Cesario, come;
For so you shall be, while you are a man;
But, when in other habits you are seen,
Orsino's mistress, and his fancy's queen.



Clo. "When that I was and a little tiny boy,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy,
For the rain it raineth every day.

"But when I came to man's estate,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
'Gainst knave and thief men shut their gate,
For the rain it raineth every day.

"But when I came, alas! to wive,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain it raineth every day.
"But when I came unto my bed,

With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
With toss-pots still had drunken head,
For the rain it raineth every day.

"A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,-
But that's all one, our play is done,
And we'll strive to please you every day."

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have been royally attorneyed, with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies; that they have seemed to be together, though absent; shook hands, as over a vast: and embraced, as it were, from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their loves!

Arch. I think there is not in the world either malice or matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of your young prince Mamillius; it is a gentleman of the greatest promise that ever came into my note.

Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him: it is a gallant child; one that, indeed, physics the subject, makes old hearts fresh: they that went on crutches ere he was born, desire yet their life to see him a man. Arch. Would they else be content to die?

Cam. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live.

Arch. If the king had no son, they would desire to five on crutches till he had one. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same. A Room of State in the Palace. Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, CAMILLO, and Attendants.

Pol. Nine changes of the wat'ry star have been
The shepherd's note, since we have left our throne
Without a burden: time as long again

Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks;
And yet we should, for perpetuity,

Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher,

Yet standing in rich place, I multiply

With one we-thank-you many thousands more

That go before it.

Leon. Stay your thanks a while;

And pay them when you part.

Pol. Sir, that's to-morrow.

I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance,

Or breed upon our absence: that may blow

No sneaping winds at home, to make us say,

"This is put forth too truly!" Besides, I have stay'd

To tire your royalty.

Leon. We are tougher, brother,

Than you can put us to 't.

Pol. No longer stay.

Leon. One seven-night longer.

Pol. Very sooth, to-morrow.

Leon. We'll part the time between's then: and in that

I'll no gainsaying.

Pol. Press me not, 'beseech you, so;

There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world, So soon as yours, could win me: so it should now, Were there necessity in your request, although

"Twere needful I denied it. My affairs

Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder,
Were in your love a whip to me; my stay
To you a charge and trouble: to save both,
Farewell, our brother.

Leon. Tongue-tied our queen? speak you.

Her. I had thought, Sir, to have held my peace, until
You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, Sir,
Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure
All in Bohemia's well: this satisfaction

The by-gone day proclaim'd say this to him,
He's beat from his best ward.

Leon. Well said, Hermione.

Her. To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong:
But let him say so then, and let him go;
But let him swear so, and he shall not stay,
We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.-

Yet of your royal presence [To POLIXENES.] I'll adventure
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
You take my lord, I'll give him my commission,
To let him there a month behind the gest
Prefix'd for his parting: yet, good deed, Leontes,
I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind
What lady she her lord.-You'll stay?

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Which is for me less easy to commit, Than you to punish.

Her. Not your jailer then,

But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you
Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys;
You were pretty lordings then.

Pol. We were, fair queen,

Two lads that thought there was no more behind,
But such a day to-morrow as to-day,
And to be boy eternal.

Her. Was not my lord the verier wag o' the two?
Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun
And bleat the one at the other: what we changed,
Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing, no, nor dream'd
That any did. Had we pursued that life,
And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd
With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven
Boldly, "Not guilty;" the imposition clear'd,
Hereditary ours.

Her. By this we gather, You have tripp'd since.

Pol. O my most sacred lady,

Temptations have since then been born to us: for
In those unfledged days was my wife a girl;
Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes
Of my young playfellow.

Her. Grace to boot!

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Her. Never?

Leon. Never, but once.


Her. What have I twice said well? when was't I pr'ythee, tell me: cram us with praise, and make us As fat as tame things: one good deed, dying tongueless, Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.

Our praises are our wages: you may ride us
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs, ere
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal:-
My last good was to entreat his stay;

What was my first? it has an elder sister,

Or I mistake you: 0, would her name were Grace!
But once before I spoke to the purpose: when?

Nay, let me have 't; I long.

Leon. Why, that was when

Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death,

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand,

And clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter,

"I am yours for ever."

Her. It is Grace indeed.

Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice:
The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;
The other for some while a friend.

[Giving her hand to POLIXEXES.
Leon. Too hot, too hot:
To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods.
I have tremor cordis on me:-my heart dances;
But not for joy,-not joy.-This entertainment
May a free face put on; derive a liberty
From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,
And well become the agent: it may, I grant:
But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers,
As now they are; and making practised smiles,
As in a looking-glass; and then to sigh, as 'twere
The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows.-Mamillius,
Art thou my boy?.

Mam. Ay, my good lord.

Leon, I' fecks?


Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy
They say it's a copy out of mine. Come, captain,
We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain:
And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf
Are all call'd neat.-Still virginalling


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 shoote To be full like me:-yet they say we are Almost as like as eggs; women say so,

[that I have,

That will say anything: but were they false

As o'er-dyed 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 be?—
Affection! thy intention stabs the centre:
Thou dost make possible things not so held,
Communicat'st with dreams;-how can this be?-
With what's unreal thou coactive art,

And fellow'st nothing: then, 'tis very credent,
Thou mayst 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. You look

As if you held a brow of much distraction:
Are you moved, my lord?

Leon. No, in good earnest.-
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, methought 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?

Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight.

Leon. You will? why, happy man be his dole!-My Are you so fond of your young prince, as we [brother, 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

Officed with me: we two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your graver steps.-Hermione,

How thou lov'st us, shew 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.

Her. If you would seek us,

We are yours i' the garden: shall's attend you there?
Leon. To your own bents dispose you: you'll be found,
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, 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 one.-[Exeunt POLIXENES, HERMIONE, and Attendants.

Go play, boy, play;-thy mother plays, and I
Play too; but so disgraced 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 deceived, cuckolds ere now;
And many a man there is, even at this present,
Now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm,
That little thinks she has been sluiced 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,
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,

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

Leon. Didst perceive it?-

They're here with me already; whispering, rounding, "Sicilia is a so-forth:" 'tis far gone,

When I shall gust 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,
Perchance, are to this business purblind: say.

Cam. Business, my lord? I think most understand Bohemia stays here longer.

Leon. Ha?

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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,
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.

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 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,

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To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought,) then say
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?
Hours, minutes? 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: Bohemia nothing;
My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings,
If this be nothing.

Cam. Good my lord, be cured

Of this diseased 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 temporiser, 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.

Cam. Who does infect her?

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Leon. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging Which puts some of us in distemper; but 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 cupbearer,-whom I from meaner form

Have bench'd, and rear'd to worship; who mayst see
Plainly, as heaven sees earth, and earth sees heaven,
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 with a ling'ring 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 loved thee,

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?

Cam. I must believe you, Sir:

I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for 't;
Provided that, when he's removed, 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 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 wear at feasts, keep with Bohemia,
And with your queen. I am his cupbearer;
If from me he have wholesome beverage,
Account me not your servant.

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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.


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.

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, experienced, 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 knowledge
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!

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 thou 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 charged in honour, and by him

That I 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.
Pol. By whom, Camillo?

Cam. By the king.

Pol. For what?

Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swens As he had seen 't, or been an instrument

To vice you to 't, that you have touch'd his queen

Pol. O, then my best blood turn
To an infected jelly, and my name

Be yoked 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 shuun'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 piled 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 inclosed 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 condemned by the king's own mouth, thereon

His execution sworn.

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
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 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.


SCENE I.-The same.

[Ex it.

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?

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. 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 semicircle,

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 eyebrows?

1 Lady. Blue, my lord.

Mam. Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a lady's Dose That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.

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
If we would have you.

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, 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 churchyard;-I will tell it sof By; Yon crickets shall not hear it.

Her. Come on then,

And give't me in mine ear.

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 eyed them Even to their ships.

Leon. How bless'd am I

In my just censure? in my true optaron?-
Alack, for lesser knowledge! How accursed
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
ls 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,

With violent hefts:-I have drunk, and seen the spicer
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

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(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 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: 0 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.

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 I 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:

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 lodged 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 performed!

Leon. [Te the Guards.] Shall I be heard?
Her. Who is 't that goes with me?-Beseech you
My women may be with me; for, you see, [highness,
My plight requires it.-Do not weep, good fools;
There is no cause: when you shall know your mistress
Has deserved 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 trust I shall.-My women, come; you have leave.
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 suller, Yourself, your queen, your son.

1 Lord. For her, my lord,

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