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
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
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,
you know aught which does behove my knowledge
Thereof to be inform'd, imprison it not

If

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.
Pol. By whom, Camillo ?

Cam.

Pol.

By the king.

For what?

Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears, 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 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 e'er was heard, or read!

Cam.
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.

Swear his thought over

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

1

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' th' city: For myself, I'll put

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's 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?

Mum.

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?

Mam.

Not for because

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 What colour are your eye-brows?

Who taught you this?

Blue, my lord.

1 Lady. Mam. Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a lady's nose That has been blue, but not her eye-brows.

2 Lady.

Hark ye:

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!
Her. What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir,

now

I am for you again: Pray you, sit by us,

Let's have that, sir.

Her. Come on, sit down :-Come on, and do your best To fright me with your sprites: you're powerful at it. Mam. There was a man,

Her.

Mam. Dwelt by a church-yard;-I will tell it softly; Yon crickets shall not hear it.

Her.

Nay, come, sit down; then on.

Come on then,

And give't me in mine ear.

Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, Lords, and others.

Leon. Was he met there? his train? Camillo with

him?

1 Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never Saw I men scour so on their way: I ey'd them

Even to their ships.

Leon.
How bless'd am I
In my just censure? in my true opinion?—
Alack, for lesser knowledge!—How accurs'd,
In being so blest!-There may be in the cup
A spider steep'd, and one may drink; depart,
And yet partake no venom; for his knowledge
Is not infected: but if one present