Apparent to my heart.

Her. If you will feek us,

We are yours i'th' garden: fhall's attend you there?
Leo. To your own bents difpofe you; you'll be found,
Be you beneath the fky: Lam angling now,
Tho' you perceive me not, how I give line;
Go to, go to.
[Afide, obferving Her..
How fhe holds up the neb! the bill to him!

And arms her with the boldness of a wife

[Exe. Polix. Her. and Attendants. 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'd a part, whofe iffue
Will hifs me to my grave: contempt and clamour
Will be my knel, Go, play, boy, play-there have been,.
Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now;
And many a man there is, even at this prefent,
Now while I speak this, holds his wife by th' arm,
That little thinks, he has been fluic'd in's abfence;
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 thofe gates open'd,
As mine, againft their will. Should all despair,
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
Would hang themfelves. Phyfick for't, there is none:
It is a bawdy planet, that will strike

Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful: think it.
From eaft, weft, north and fouth, be it concluded,
No barricado for a belly. Know't,

It will let in and out the enemy,

With bag and baggage: many a thousand of's
Have the difeafe, and feel't not.
Mam. I am like you, they fay.

Leo. Why that's fome comfort.

What, Camillo there?

Cam. Ay, my good Lord.

How now, boy?.

Lee. Go play, Mamillius—-— thouʼrt an honeft man;

[Exit Mamik. Camille,

Camillo, this great Sir will yet stay longer.

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

Leo. Didft note it?

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

Leo. Didft perceive it?

They're here with me already; whifp'ring, rounding:: Sicilia is a fo-forth; 'tis far gone,

When I fhall guft it laft.. How came't, Camillo,

That he did stay ?

Cam. At the good Queen's entreaty.

Leo. At the Queen's be't; good, fhould be pertinent;. But fo it is, it is not. Was this taken

By any understanding-pate but thine?

For thy conceit is foaking, will draw in

More than the common blocks; not noted, is't,
But of the finer natures? by fome severals
Of head-piece extraordinary; lower meffes,
Perchance, are to this bufinefs purblind? fay.

Cam. Bufinefs, my Lord . I think, moft understand: Bohemia ftays here longer...

Leo. Ha?

Cam. Stays here longer..

Leo. Ay, but why?

Cam. To fatisfy your Highnefs, and th' intreaties Of our most gracious miftrefs.

Leo. Satisfy

Th' entreaties of your mistress? fatisfy?

Let that fuffice. I've trufted thee, Camillo,

With all the things neareft my heart; as well
My chamber-councils, wherein, prieft like, thou
Haft cleans'd by bofom: I from thee departed.
Thy penitent reform'd; but we have been
Deceiv'd in thy integrity; deceiv'd
In that, which feems fo.

Cam. Be it forbid, my Lord

Leo. To bide upon't ;-Thou art not honeft; or,. If thou inclin'ft that way, thou art a coward; Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining

From

From courfe requir'd or else thou must be counted A fervant grafted in my ferious truft,

And therein negligent; or elfe a fool,

That feeft a game plaid home, the rich stake drawn,” And tak'ft it all for jeft.

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 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 iffue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out

Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear
Which oft infects the wifeft: thefe, my Lord,
Are fuch allow'd infirmities, that honesty
Is never free of. But, befeech your Grace,
Be plainer with me, let me know my trespass
By its own vifage; if I then deny it,

"Tis none of mine.

Leo. Ha'not you seen, Camillo,

(But that's paft doubt, you have; or your eye-glass, Is thicker than a cuckold's horn ;) or heard,

(For a vifion fo apparent, rumour

Cannot be mute;) or thought, (for cogitation
Refides not in that man, that do's not think it ;)

(5) I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful;"

In

every one of these no man is free,

But that his negligence, bis felly, fear,

Among the infinite doings of the world

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

My

My wife is flippery if thou wilt, confefs;

(Or else be impudently negative,

To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought,) then say,
My wife's a hobby-horfe, deferves a name
As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight: fay't, and justify't.
Cam. I would not be a ftander-by, to hear
My fovereign Miftrefs clouded fo, without
My prefent vengeance taken; 'fhrew my heart,
You never fpoke what did become you lefs
Than this; which to reiterate, were fin
As deep as that, tho' true.

Leo. Is whispering nothing?

Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meating nofes
Kiffing with infide 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, unfeen, be wicked is this nothing?
Why, then the world, and all that's in't, is nothing;
The covering fky 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 difeas'd opinion, and betimes ;,
For 'tis moft dangerous.

Leo. Say it be, 'tis true.

Cam. No, no, my Lord..

Leo. It is; you dye, you lye:

I fay, thou lieft, Camillo, and I hate thee;
Pronounce thee a grofs lowt, a mindless flave,

Or elfe a hovering temporizer, that

Canft with thine eyes at once fee good and evil, .
Inclining to them both: were my wife's liver
Infected, as her life, fhe would not live

The running of one glass.

Cam. Who do's infect her?

Leo. Why he, that wears her like his medal, hanging

About

About his neck; Bohemia,-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'st see
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,
But with a lingring dram, that fhould not work,
Maliciously, like poifon: but I cannot (6)
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So fovereignly being honourable.

Leo. I'velov'd thee.-Make't thy question, and go rot: Do'ft think, I am fo muddy, fo unfettled,

To appoint myfelf in this vexation? Sully
The purity and whitenefs of my fheets,
(Which to preferve, is fleep; which being spotted,.
Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wafps :)
Give fcandal to the blood o'th' Prince, my fon,
Who, I do think, is mine, and love as mine,

(6)

but I cannot

Believe this crack to be in my dread mifirefs,

So fovereignly being honourable.

I have lov'd thee.

-

Leo. Make that thy question and go rot.] This paffage wants very Hittle weighing, to determine fafely upon it, that the laft hemiftich affign'd to Camillo, must have been mistakenly placed to him. It is a ftrange inftance of difrefpect and infolence in Camillo to his king and mafter, to tell him that he has once lov'd him.. But fenfe and reafon will eafily acquit our Poet from fuch an impropriety. I have ventur'd at a tranfpofition, which feems felf evident. Camillo will not be perfuaded into a fufpicion of the difloyalty imputed to his mif trefs. The King, who believes nothing but his jealoufy, provok'd that Camillo is fo obfinately diffident, finely ftarts into a rage and cries; I've low'd thee.- -Make't thy queftion, and go rot. i. c. I have tender'd thee well, Camillo, but I here cancel all former refpect at If thou any longer make a question of my wife's difloyalty; go from my prefence, and perdition overtake thee for thy flubbornness. Without

once.