But that his negligence, his folly, fear, It was my folly if industrioufly I play'd the fool, it was my negligence, Thefe, my Lord, 'Tis none of mine. Leo. Ha' not you feen, Camillo, (But that's paft doubt you have; or your eye-glafs Cannot be mute), or thought, (for cogitation To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought), then say, Leo. Is whifpering nothing? Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting nofes? That would, unfeen, be wicked? Is this nothing? Why, then the world, and all that's in 't, is nothing. The covering fky is nothing, Bithynia nothing; My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings, If this be nothing. Cam. Good my Lord, be cur'd Of this difeas'd opinion, and betimes; Leo. Say it be, 'tis true. Leo. It is; you lye, you lye. I fay thou lyeft, Camillo, and I hate thee; Canft with thine eyes at once fee good and evil, Cam. Who do's infect her? Leo. Why he that wears her like his medal, hanging About his neck; Bithynia,--who, if I Had fervants true about me, that bare eyes To fee 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 'ft fee Plainly, as heav'n fees earth, and earth fees heav'n, How I am gall'd); thou might'ft be-fpice a cup, To give mine enemy a lafting wink; Which draught to me were cordial. Cam. Sir, my Lord, I could do this, and that with no rash potion, Believe this crack to be in my dread Mistress, Leo. I've lov'd thee.-Make't thy queftion, and Do'ft think I am fo muddy, fo unfettled, To appoint myself in this vexation? Sully [go rot : The purity and whiteness of my sheets, Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wafps): Cam. I muft believe you, Sir; I do, and will fetch off Bithynia for 't: Leo. Thou doft advise me, Even fo as I mine own course have fet down: Cam. My Lord, Go then; and with a countenance as clear As friendship wears at feafts, keep with Bithynia, Leo. This is all; Do't, and thou haft the one half of my heart; Do 't not, thou split 'it thine own. Cam. I'll do 't, my Lord. Leo. I will feem friendly, as thou haft advis'd me. Cam. O miferable Lady! but, for me, What cafe ftand I in? I must be the poisoner Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do't Is the obedience to a mafter; one, [Exit. Who, in rebellion with himself, will have Forfake the court; to do 't or no, is certain 1 Pol. This is ftrange! methinks My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?- Cam. Hail, Moft Royal Sir! Pol. What is the news i' th' court? Cam. None rare, my Lord. Pol. The King hath on him fuch a countenance, 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; Cam. There is a fickness Which puts fome of us in diftemper; but Pol. How caught it of me? Make me not fighted like the bafilisk. I've look'd on thousands, who have sped the better As you are certainly a gentleman, Clerk-like experienc'd, (which no less adorns Thereof to be inform'd, imprifon 't not Pol. A ficknefs caught of me, and yet I well? Which honour does acknowledge, (whereof the leaft Is creeping towards me; how far off, how near; Cam. Sir, I'll tell you. Since I am charg'd in honour, and by him Pol. On, good Camillo. Cam. I am appointed him to murder you. Cam. By the King. Pol. For what? counfel; Gam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he fwears, As he had feen 't, or been an inftrument To vice you to 't*, that you have touch'd his Queen Forbiddenly. Pol. Oh, then, my best blood turn To an infected gelly, and my name Be yok'd with his that did betray the best! A favour that may ftrike the dullest noftril Cam. Swear this though over By each particular ftar in heaven, and * i. e. to draw, perfuade you. The character called the Vice, in the old plays, was the Tempter to evil, |