Maliciously, like poifon. But I cannot *
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,
So fovereignly being honourable.

Leo. I've lov'd thee.--Make't thy Question, and

go rot:

Do'ft think, I am so muddy, fo unfettled,
To appoint myself in this vexation? Sully
The purity and whitenefs of my fheets,
(Which to preserve, 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,
Without ripe moving to't? would I do this?

calls the malicious workings of poifon, as if done withr defign to betray the ufer. But the Oxford Editor would mend Shakespeare's expreffion, and reads,

that should not work

Like a malicious poison: So that Camillo's reafon is loft in this happy emendation. WARB. Rafh is bafty, as in another place, rash gunpowder, Ma ·liciously is malignantly, with effects openly hurtful. Shakespeare had no thought of betraying the ufer. The Oxford emendation is harmless and useless.

4 In former copies,

but I cannot Believe this Crack to be in my dread Miftrefs. So fovereignly being honourable,

I have lov'd thee

Leo. Make that thy Quflion

and go rot:] The laft Hemiftich align'd to Camillo, must have been mistakenly placed to him. It is Difrefpect and Infolence in Camillo to his King, to tell him that he has once

lov'd him.I have ventured at a Tranfpofition, which seems felf-evident. Camillo will not be perfuaded into a Sufpicion of the Difloyalty imputed to his Mi firefs. The King, who believes nothing but his Jealoufy, provok'd that Camille is fo obstinately diffident, finely ftarts into a Rage and cries;

I've lov'd thee.

-Make't thy Queftion, 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 Difloyalty, go from my Prefence, and Perdition overtake thee for thy Stubbornness. THEOBALD

I have admitted this alteration, as Dr. Warburton has done, but am not convinced that it is neceflary. Camillo, defirous to defend the Qucen, and willing to fecure credit to his apology, begins, by telling the King that he has loved him, is about to give infances of his love, and to infer from them his prefent zeal, when he is interrupted.

Could

Could man fo blench?

Cam. I must believe you, Sir,

I do, and will fetch off Bohemia for't:
Provided, that, when he's remov'd, your Highness
Will take again your Queen, as yours at first,
Even for your fon's fake, and thereby for fealing
The injury of tongues, in Courts and Kingdoms
Known and ally'd to yours.

Leo. Thou doft advise me,

Even fo as I mine own course have fet down:
I'll give no blemish to her honour, none.
Cam. My Lord,

Go then; and with a countenance as clear
As friendship wears at feafts, keep with Bohemia,
And with your Queen: I am his cup-bearer;
If from me he have wholesome beveridge,
Account me not your fervant.

Leo. This is all;

Do't, and thou haft the one half of my heart;
Do't not, thou split'ft thine own.

Cam. I'll do't, my Lord."

Leo. I will feem friendly, as thou haft advis'd me.

Cam, O miferable lady!-But, for me,
What cafe ftand I in? I must be the poisoner
Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do't
Is the obedience to a mafter; one,
Who, in rebellion with himself, will have
All that are his, fo too. To do this deed,

[Exit.

Promotion follows. If I could find example
Of thousands, that had struck anointed Kings,
And flourish'd after, I'd not do't: but fince
Nor brafs, nor ftone, nor parchment, bears not one;
Let villany itfelf forfwear't. I must

Forfake the Court; to do't, or no, is certain

To me a break-neck, Happy ftar reign now!
Here comes Bohemia.

SCENE

SCENE IV;

Enter Polixenes.

Pol. This is strange! methinks,

My favour here begins to warp. Not fpeak?;
Good day, Camillo.

Cam. Hail, most royal Sir!

Pol. What is the news i'th' court?

Cam. None rare, my Lord.

Pol. The King hath on him fuch a countenance, As he had loft fome province, and a region Lov'd, as he loves himfelf: even now I met him With customary compliment, when he, Wafting his eyes to th' contrary, and falling A lip of much contempt, fpeeds from me, and So leaves me to confider 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 dare not?

Be intelligent to me, 'tis thereabouts:

For to yourself, what you do know, you muft;
And cannot fay, you dare not. Good Camille,
Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror,
Which fhews me mine chang'd too; for I must be
A party in this alteration, finding
Myfelf thus alter'd with it.

Cam. There is a fickness,

Which puts fome of us in diftemper; but
I cannot name the disease, and it is caught
Of you that yet, are well.

Pol. How caught of me?

Make me not fighted like the bafilifk.

I've look'd on thousands, who have sped the better By my regard, but kill'd none fo. Camillo,

As you are certainly a gentleman,

Clerk

Clerk-like experienc'd (which no less adorns
Our gentry, than our parents' noble names,

In whofe fuccefs we are gentle ';) I beseech you,
If you know aught, which does behove my knowledge
Thereof to be inform'd, imprison't not

In ignorant concealment.

Cam. I may not answer.

Pol. A fickness caught of me, and yet I well?
I must be answer'd. Doft thou hear, Camillo,
I conjure thee by all the parts of man,
Which honour does acknowledge (whereof the least
Is not this fuit of mine), that thou declare,
What incidency thou doft guefs of harm

Is creeping towards me; how far off, how near;
Which way to be prevented, if it be;
If not, how beft to bear it.

Cam. Sir, I'll tell you.

Since I am charg'd in honour, and by him
That I thing honourable; therefore, mark my counsel;
Which must be ev'n as fwiftly follow'd, as

I mean to utter it; or both yourself and me
Cry loft, and fo good night.

Pol. On, good Camillo.

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 fwears, As he had feen't, or been an instrument

To vice you to't, that you have toucht his Queen Forbiddenly.

Pol. Oh, then, my best blood turn To an infected gelly, and my name

In whofe fuccefs we are gentle;- I know not whether fuccefs here does not mean fucceffion.

To vice you to't,—] i. e. to draw, perfuade you. The character called the Vice, in the old plays, was the Tempter to evil.

WARBURTON.

Be

Be yok'd with his, that did betray the best!
Turn then my fresheft reputation to

A favour, that may ftrike the dulleft noftril
Where I arrive; and my approach be fhun'd,
Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection
That e'er was heard, or read!

Cam. Swear this though over 7.

By each particular ftar in heaven, and
By all their influences; you may as well.
Forbid the fea 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 ftanding of his body.

Pol. How fhall this grow?

Cam. I know not; but, I'm fure, 'tis fafer to
Avoid what's grown, than queftion how 'tis born,
If therefore you dare truft my honesty,
That lies inclofed in this trunk, which you
Shall bear along impawn'd, away to night;
Your followers I will whifper to the bufinefs;
And will by twos and threes, at feveral pofterns,
Clear them o'th' city. For myself, I'll put
My fortunes to your fervice, which are here
By this difcovery loft. Be not uncertain;
For by the honour of my parents, I
Have utter'd truth; which if you
feek to prove,
I dare not ftand by; nor fhall you be safer,
Than one condemned by the King's own mouth;