Page 756 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4
P. 756
CAMILLO
Good my lord, be cur’d
Of this diseas’d opinion, and betimes,
For ’tis most dangerous.
LEONTES
Say it be,’tis true.
CAMILLO
No, no, my lord.
LEONTES
It is: you lie, you lie:
I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee, [300]
Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave,
Or else a hovering temporizer that
Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
Inclining to them both: were my wife’s liver
Infected, as her life, she would not live [305]
The running of one glass.
CAMILLO
Who does infect her?
LEONTES
Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging
About his neck, Bohemia; who, if I
Had servants true about me, that bare eyes
To see alike mine honour as their profits, [310]
Their own particular thrifts, they would do that
Which should undo more doing: ay, and thou
His cupbearer, − whom I from meaner form
Have bench’d and rear’d to worship, who may’st see
Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven, [315]
How I am gall’d, − might’st bespice a cup,
To give mine enemy a lasting wink;
Which draught to me were cordial.
