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 villainy 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.

Enter POLIXenes.

This is strange! methinks,

My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?

Good-day, Camillo.

Cam.

Pol. What is the news i'the court?

Cam.

Hail, most royal sir!

None rare, my lord.

Pol. The king hath 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, Wafting 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 too: for I must be A party in this alteration, finding

Myself thus alter'd with it.

Cam.
There is a sickness
Which puts some of us in distemper; but
I cannot name the disease; and it is caught
you that yet are well.

Of

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,
If you know aught which does behove my know-
ledge

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 charg'd 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.

8

1 In whose success we are gentle,] Success here means succession. Gentle is evidently opposed to simple; alluding to the distinction between the gentry and yeomanry.

8 I am appointed Him to murder you.] i. e. I am the person appointed to murder

VOL. IV.

you.

M

Pol. By whom, Camillo ?

Cam.

Pol.

By the king.

For what?

Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he

swears,

you

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

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 ere 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 fabrick 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 Avoid what's grown, than question how 'tis born. 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 posterns, Clear them o' the city: For myself, I'll put

To vice-] i. e. to draw, persuade you; probably for advise. whose foundation

Is pil'd upon his faith,] This folly which is erected on the foundation of settled belief.

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 condemn'd 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.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. The same.

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 play-fellow?

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?

Not for because

Mam. 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 half-moon made with a pen.

2 Lady.

Mam. I learn'd it out of women's faces.-Pray

now

Who taught you

this?

Blue, my lord.

What colour are your eye-brows?

1 Lady.

Mam. Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a lady's

nose

That has been blue, but not her eye-brows.

Hark ye:

2 Lady. 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 us, If we would have you.

1 Lady.

She is spread of late

Into a goodly bulk: Good time encounter her!