This is all :

Account me not your servant.

Leon.
Do't, and thou hast the one half of my heart;
Do't not, thou split'st thine own.

Cam.
I'll do't, my lord.
Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd me.

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,

[Exit.

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'd not do't: but since
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.

Pol.

Enter POLIXENES.

This is strange! methinks,

My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?-
Good-day, Camillo.

Cam.

Hail, most royal sir! Pol. What is the news i'the court? Cam. None rare, my lord. Pol. The king bath 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 Be intelligent to me? "Tis thereabouts;

[dare not

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
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,
If you know aught which does behove my knowledge
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.

On, good Camillo.

Pol.
Cam. I am appointed Him to murder you.
Pol. By whom, Camillo?

Cam.

By the king.

Pol.

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.
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 fabric 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
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;

B

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,

Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, and Ladies. Her. Take the boy to you: he so troubles me, "Tis past enduring.

1 Lady.

Come, my gracious lord,

No, I'll none of you.

Shall I be your play-fellow?

Mam.

1 Lady. Why, my sweet lord?

Mam. You'll kiss me hard; and speak to me as if 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.

Who taught you this?

Mam. I learn'd it out of women's faces.-Pray now, What colour are your eye-brows?