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.
I do believe thee;
I saw his heart in his face. Give me thy hand;
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 this 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.
It is in mine authority to command
The keys of all the posterns: please your highness
To take the urgent hour: come, sir, away.
Scene I. Sicilia. A Room in the Palace.
[Enter Hermione, Mamillius, and Ladies.]
Take the boy to you: he so troubles me,
’Tis past enduring.
Come, my gracious lord,
Shall I be your playfellow?
No, I’ll none of you.
Why, my sweet lord?
You’ll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if
I were a baby still.—[To Second Lady.] I love you better.
And why so, my lord?
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 semicircle
Or a half-moon made with a pen.
Who taught you this?
I learn’d it out of women’s faces.—Pray now,
What colour are your eyebrows?
Blue, my lord.