Page 757 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

CAMILLO

Sir, my lord,
I could do this, and that with no rash potion,
But with a ling’ring dram, that should not work [320]

Maliciously, like poison: but I cannot
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress
(So sovereignly being honourable).
I have lov’d thee, −

LEONTES
Make that thy question, and go rot!

Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, [325]
To appoint myself in this vexation; sully
The purity and whiteness of my sheets,
(Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted

Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps)
Give scandal to the blood o’ th’ prince, my son, [330]
(Who I do think is mine and love as mine)
Without ripe moving to ’t? Would I do this?

Could man so blench?

CAMILLO

I must believe you, sir:
I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for’t;
Provided, that when he’s removed, your highness [335]

Will take again your queen, as yours at first,
Even for your son’s sake, and thereby for sealing
The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms
Known and allied to yours.

LEONTES
Thou dost advise me

Even so as I mine own course have set down: [340]
I’ll give no blemish to her honour, none.

CAMILLO
My lord,
Go then; and with a countenance as clear