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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.
Lea. Didft note it?
Cam. He would not stay at your petitions made; His bufinefs more material.
Leo. Didit perceive it à
They're here with me already; whifp'ring, rounding:
When I fhall guft it laft. How came't, Camillo,
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
Cam. Bufinefs, my Lord? I think, most understand Bohemia ftays here longer.
Cam. Stays here longer,
Leo. Ay, but why?
Cam. To fatisfy your Highnefs, and th' intreaties Of our most gracious mistress.
Th' intreaties of your mistrefs? fatisfy ?-
In that, which feems fo.
Cam. Be it forbid, my Lord
Leo. To bide upon't;-Thou art not honeft; or, If thoù inclin'ft that way, thou art a coward; Which hoxes honefty behind, reftraining
From course requir'd: or else thou must be counted
And therein negligent; or elfe a fool,
That feeft a game plaid home, the rich take drawn,
Cam. My gracious Lord,
I may be negligent, foolish and fearful (5) ;
It was my folly; if industriously
I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,
Leo. Ha'not you feen, Camillo,
(But that's paft doubt, you have; or your eye-glafs 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;
Amongst the infinite doings of the world
Sometimes puts forth in your affairs, my Lord.] Moft accurate pointing this, and fine nonfenfe the refult of it! The old folio's firft blunder'd thus, and Mr. Rowe by inadvertence (if he read the sheets at all,) overlook'd the fault, Mr. Pope, like a moft obfequious editor, has taken the paffage on content, and purfued the track of Atup dity. I dare fay, every underftanding reader will allow, my reformation of the pointing has entirely retriev'd the place from obfcusity, and reconcil'd it to the author's meaning.
My wife is flippery ? if thou wilt, confefs;
To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought,) then say,
Leo. Is whispering nothing?
Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meating nofes?
My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings,
Cam. Good my Lord, be cur'd
Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes;
Leo. Say it be, 'tis true.
Cam. No, no, my Lord.
Leo. It is; you lye, you lye:
I fay, thou lieft, Camillo, and I hate thee;
Or elfe a hovering temporizer, that
Canft with thine eyes at once fee good and evil,
The running of one glass.
Cam. Who do's infect her?
Leo. Why he, that wears her like his medal, hanging
About his neck; Bohemia,-who, if I
Cam. Sir, my Lord,
I could do this, and that with no rash potion,
Believe this crack to be in my dread miftrefs,
Leo. I've lov'd thee.Make't thy queftion, and go rots Do't think, I am fo muddy, fo unfettled,
To appoint myself in this vexation? Sully
but I cannot
Believe this crack to be in my dread miftrefs,
So fovereignly being bonourable.
I have lov'd thee.
Leo. Make that thy queftion and go rot.] This paffage wants very little weighing, to determine fafely upon it, that the laft hemiftich affign'd to Camillo, muft have been mistakenly placed to him. It is a ftrange inftance of difrefpect and infolence in Camillo to his king and matter, to tell him that he has once lov'd him.But fenfe and reason will easily 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 jealousy, provok'd that Camillo is fo obftinately 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 ali 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 ftubbornnefs. Without
Without ripe moving to't? would I do this?
Cam. I muft believe you, Sir;
I do, and will fetch off Bohemia for't t
Provided, that, when he's remov'd, your Highnefa
Leo. Thou doft advise me,
Even fo as I mine own course have fet down:
Go then; and with a countenance as clear
Leo. This is all;
Do't, and thou haft the one half of my heart;
Do't not, thou fplit'ft thine own.
Cam. I'll do't, my Lord.
Leo. I will feem friendly, as thou haft advis'd me. [Exit.
What cafe ftand I in? I must be the poifoner
Who, in rebellion with himself, will have
Forfake the court; to do't, or no, is certain
To me a break-neck. Happy ftar, reign now!
Pol. This is ftrange! methinks,