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Apparent to my heart.

Her. If you will seek us,
We are yours i'ch' garden :- shall's attend you there?

Leo. To your own bents dispose you; you'll be found,
Be you beneath the sky: 5am angling now,
Tho' you perceive me not, how I give line;
Go to, go to.

Afide, observing Her..
How she holds up the neb! the bill to him!
And arms her with the boldness of a wife

[Exe. Polix. Her. and Amendants. Manent Eeo..

Mam, and Cam.
To her allowing husband. 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 disgrac' a part, whose iffue
Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour
Will be my knel, Go, play, boy, play-there have been,
Or Fam much deceiv’d, cuckolds ere now;
And many.a man there is, even at this present,
Now while I speak this, holds his wife by th' arm,
That little thinks, he has been suic'd in's abfence;
And his pond filh'd by his next neighbour, by
Şir 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. Phyfick for', there is none;
It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful: think it.
From east, welt, north and fouth, be it concluded,
No barricado for a belly, Know's,
It will let in and out the enemy,
With bag and baggage: many a thousand of's
Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy?

Mam. I am like you, they say.

Leo. Why that's some comfort.
What, Camillo there?

Cam. Ay, my good Lord.
Leg. Go play, Mamillius thou’rt an honest man:

[Exit Mamit.


Camillo, this great Sir will yet stay longer.

Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor hold; When you cast out, it still came home.

Leo. Didst note it?

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

Leo. Didit perceive it? They're here with me already; whisp'ring, rounding :: Sicilia is a so-forth; "tis far gone, When I fall gust it last. How came't, Camillo, That he did stay?

Cam. At the good Queen's entreaty.

Leo. 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, moft understand: Bohemia ftays here longer..

Leo. Ha?
Cam. Stays here longer.
Leo. Ay, but why?'

Cam. To satisfy your Highness, and th' intreaties
Of our most gracious mistress.

Leo. Satisfy
Th’entreaties of your mistress.; fatisfy ?-
Let that suffice. I've trusted thee, Camillo,
With all the things neareft my heart; as well
My chamber-councils, wherein, priest like, thou
Haft cleans'd by bosom : I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform’d; but we have been
Deceiv'd in thy integrity ; deceiv'd
In that, which seems so.

Cam. Be it forbid, my Lord-
Leo. To bide upon't ;-Thou art not honeft; or,
If thou inclin't that way, thou art a coward ;
Which hoxes honesty behind, reftraining


From course requir’d: or else thou must be counted
A fervant grafted in my serious trust,
And therein negligent; or else a fool,
That seeft a game plaid home, the rich fake drawn,
And tak'st it all for jest.

Cam. My gracious Lord,
I may be negligent, foolish and fearful; (5)
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 induftriously
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.

Leo. 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, (For a vision to apparent, rumour Cannot be mute ;) or thought, (for cogitation Resides not in that man, that do's not think it ;) (5) I may be negligent, fcolis, and fearful;

In every one of these no man is free,
Burokat bis negligence, bis felly, fiar,
Among fa rhe infinite doings of the world

Semetimes puts forth in your affairs, my Lord.] Moft accurate pointirg this, and fine nonsense the refult of it! The old folio's first blunder'd thus, and Mr. Rowe by inadvertence (if he read the sheets at all,) overlook'd the fault. Mr. Pope, like a moft obsequious editor, has taken the passage on content, and pursued the track of Stupidity. I dare say, every understanding reader will allow, my reformation of the pointing has entirely retriev'd the place from obkurity, and reconcil'd it to the author's meaning.


My wife is flippery if thou wilt, confess;
(Or else be impudently negative,
To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought,) then sayi:
My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name
Aš rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight : say't, and justify't.

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 fin
As deep as that, tho' true.

Leo. 'Is whispering nothing?
Is leaning cheek to cheek! is meating noses
Kifling with inside lip! ftopping the career
Of laughter with a figh? (a note infallible
Of breaking honefty :) horfing foot on foot?
Skulking in corners?' withing clocks more swift?
Hours, minutes ? the noon, midnight, and all eyes
Blind with the pin and web, but theirs ; theirs only,
That would, unseen; be wicked Mis 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 cur'd
Of this diseasd opinion, and betimes ; ,
For 'tis most dangerous.

Leo. Say it be, 'tis true. .
Cam. No, no, my Lord..

Leo. It is; you lye, you lye :
I say, thou liert, Camillo, and I hate thee;
Pronounce thee a gross lowt, a mindless slave;
Or else a hovering temporizer, that
Canft 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 do's in feet her
Leo. Why he, that wears her like his 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 : I, and thou
His cup-bearer, (whom I from meaner form
Have bench'd, and rear'd to worship; who may'st see.
Plainly,, as heav'n fees earth, and earth sees heav'n,
How I am gall’d;) thou might'lt be-spice 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 lingring dram, that should not work,
Malicioudly, like poison : but I cannot (6)
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So sovereignly being honourable.

Leo. I'velor'd thee, Make't thy question, and gorot: Do'st think, I am so muddy, so unfettled, To appoint myself in this vexation ? Sully The purity and whiteness of my sheets, (Which to preserve, is sleep; which, being spotted, 1$ goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps :) Give scandal to the blood o'th' Prince, my son, Who, I do think, is mine, and love as mine, (6)

huit I carnet
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So fovereignly being honourable.

I have lov'thee.
Leo. Make tbar thy question and go rot.] This paffage wants very
Hirtle weighing, to determine fafely upon it, that ine laat hemiftich
assign'd to Camillo, must have been mistakenly placed to him.

It is a stranye instance of disrespect and infolence in Camillo to his king and master, to tell him that he has once lov'd him. But sense and seafon will eahly acquit our Poet from such an impropriery. I have ventur'd at a transposition, which seems self evident. Camillo will . not be persuaded into a fufpicion of the disloyalty imputed to his mir. tress. The King, who believes nothing but his jealousy, provok'd that Camillo is fo obäinately diffident, finely starts into a rage and cries; I've lov'd thee. - Make't thy question, and go rot.

i. e. I have tender'd thee well, Camillo, but I here cancel all former respect at once. If thou any longer make a question of my wife's di Noyalty ; pe from any presence, and perdition overtake thee for thy stubbornnesse


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