Pol. Nine changes of the watery star
hath been
The shepherd's note since we have left our throne
Without a burthen: time as long again
Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks;
5
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
moeThat go before it.
And pay them when you part.
10
Pol. Sir, that's to-morrow.
I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance
No sneaping winds at home, to make us say
'This is put forth too
truly:' besides, I have stay'd
To tire your royalty.
15
Leon. We are tougher, brother,
Than you can put us to't.
Pol. Very sooth, to-morrow.
Leon. We'll part the time between's, then: and in that
I'll no gainsaying.
20
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
25
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,
30
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.
Her. To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong:
35
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.
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
40
You take my lord, I'll
give him my commission
Prefix'd for's parting: yet,
good deed, Leontes,
I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind
45
Pol. I may not, verily.
Her. Verily!
You put me off with limber vows; but I,
Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with oaths,
Should yet say 'Sir, no going.' Verily,
50
As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet?
Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees
When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you?
55
My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread 'Verily,'
One of them you shall be.
Pol. Your guest, then, madam:
To be your prisoner should import offending;
Which is for me less easy to commit
Than you to punish.
Her. Not your gaoler, then,
60
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.
65
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
70
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.
75
Her. By this we gather
You have tripp'd since.
Pol. O my most sacred lady!
Temptations have since then been born
to's: for
In those unfledged days was my wife a girl;
Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes
Of my young play-fellow.
80
Of this make no conclusion,
lest you say
Your queen and I are devils: yet go on;
The offences we have made you do we'll answer,
If you first sinn'd with us and that with us
85
You did continue fault and that you slipp'd not
With any but with us.
Her. He'll stay, my lord.
Leon. At my request he would not.
To better purpose.
90
Her. What! have I twice said well? when
was't before?
I prithee tell me;
cram's with praise, and make's
As fat as tame things: one good deed dying tongueless
Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages: you may ride's
95
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere
My last good deed was to entreat his stay:
What was my first? it has an elder sister,
Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace!
100
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.'
105
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.
To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.
110
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
But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers,
As now they are, and making practised smiles,
The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment
Art thou my boy?
120
Leon. I' fecks!
Why, that's my bawcock. What,
hast smutch'd thy nose?
We must be neat; not neat,
but cleanly, captain:
And yet the steer, the
heifer and the calf
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 shoots that I have.
130
Almost as like as eggs; women say so,
That will say any thing: but were they 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,
Communicatest with
dreams;—how can this be?—
With what's unreal them coactive art,
Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou dost,
And that beyond commission, and I find it,
145
And that to the infection of my brains
And hardening of my brows.
Her. He something seems unsettled.
Her. You look
As if you held a brow of much distraction:
150
How sometimes nature will betray
its folly,
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
155
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,
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
160
This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend,
Will you take
eggs for money?
Leon. You
will! why, happy man
be's dole! My brother,
Are you so fond of your young prince, as we
Do seem to be of ours?
165
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;
170
Leon. So stands this squire
Officed with me: we two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione,
How thou lovest us, show in our brother's welcome;
175
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,
180
Be you beneath the sky.
[Aside] I am angling now,
Though you perceive me not how I give line.
Go to, go to!
How she holds up the
neb, the bill to him!And arms her with the boldness of a wife
To her allowing husband!
[
Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione, and Attendants.Gone already!
Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd one!
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
190
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's absenceAnd 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
200
Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is none;
It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
From east, west, north and south: be it concluded,
No barricado for a belly;
know't;
It will let in and out the enemy
With bag and baggage:
many thousand on's
Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy!
Mam. I am like you,
they say.
Leon. Why, that's some comfort.
210
Cam. Ay, my good lord.
Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.
When you cast out, it still came home.
215
His business more material.
Leon. Didst perceive it?
When I shall gust it last. How came't, Camillo,
That he did stay?
220
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?
225
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.
230
Cam. Stays here longer.
Cam. To
satisfy your highness, and the entreaties
Of our most gracious mistress.
Leon. Satisfy!
The entreaties of your mistress! satisfy!
235
Let that suffice.
I have trusted thee, Camillo,
My chamber-councils; wherein, priest-like, thou
Hast cleansed my bosom, I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been
240
Deceived in thy integrity, deceived
In that which seems so.
Leon. To bide upon't, thou art not honest; or,
If thou inclinest that way, thou art a coward,
Which
hoxes honesty behind, restraining
From course required; or else thou must be counted
A servant grafted in my serious trust
And therein negligent; or else a fool
That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn,
And takest it all for jest.
Cam. My gracious lord,
250
I may be negligent, foolish and fearful;
In every one of these no man is free,
But that his negligence, his folly, fear,
255
If ever I were wilful-negligent,
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,
260
Whereof the execution did cry out
Which oft infects the wisest: these, my lord,
Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty
Is never free of. But, beseech your Grace,
265
Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass
By
its own visage: if I then deny it,
'Tis none of mine.
Leon. Ha' not you seen, Camillo,—
But that's past doubt, you have, or your eye-glass
Is thicker than a cuckold's horn,—or heard,—
270
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,
275
To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say
As rank as any flax-wench that
puts toBefore her troth-plight: say't and justify't.
Cam. I would not be a stander-by to hear
280
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?
285
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?
290
Hours, minutes?
noon, midnight? and all
eyesBlind 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;
295
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.
Leon. It is; you lie, you lie:
300
I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee,
Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave,
Or else a hovering temporizer, 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?
Leon. Why, he that wears her like
her 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
315
Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven,
To give mine enemy a lasting wink;
Which draught to me were cordial.
I could do this, and that with no rash potion,
320
But with a lingering dram, that should not work
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable.
Leon. Make that thy question, and go rot!
325
The purity and whiteness of my sheets,
Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted
330
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?
Cam. I must believe you, sir:
I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't;
335
Provided that, when he's removed, your highness
Will take again your queen as yours at first,
The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms
Known and allied to yours.
Leon. Thou dost advise me
340
Even so as I mine own course have set down:
Cam. My lord,
Go then; and with a countenance as clear
As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia
345
And with your queen. I am his cup-bearer:
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 splitt'st thine own.
350
Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised me. [Exit.
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
355
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'ld not do't; but since
360
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.
365
My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?
Good day, Camillo.
Cam. Hail, most royal sir!
Pol. What is the news i' the court?
Pol. The king hath on him such a countenance
As he had lost some province and a region
370
Loved 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
375
That changes thus his manners.
Be intelligent to me: 'tis thereabouts;
For, to yourself, what
you do know, you must,
And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo,
Your changed complexions are to me a mirror
Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be
A party in this alteration, finding
Cam. There is a sickness
385
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
390
By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo,—
Our gentry than our parents' noble names,
In whose success we are gentle,—I beseech you,
395
If you know aught which does behove my knowledge
Thereof to be inform'd, imprison't not
In ignorant concealment.
Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well!
I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo,
400
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.
Since I am charged in honour and by him
That I think honourable: therefore mark my counsel,
Which must be ev'n as swiftly follow'd as
410
Cry lost, and so good night!
Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears,
415
As he had seen't, or been an instrument
To vice you to't, that you have touch'd his queen
Forbiddenly.
Pol. O, then my best blood turn
To an infected jelly and my name
Be yoked with his that did betray the Best!
420
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!
425
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
430
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,
435
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
440
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
His execution sworn.
Pol. I do believe thee:
I saw his heart in's face. Give me thy hand:
Be pilot to me and thy
places shall
Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready and
450
My people did expect my hence departure
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
455
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:
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
465
To take the urgent
hour. Come, sir, away.
[Exeunt.