'Tis none of mine.
Leon. [Ha'] not you seen, Camillo,—
But that's past doubt, you have, or your eye-glass
Is thicker than a cuckold's horn,—or heard,—
For to a vision so apparent rumour
Cannot be mute,—or thought,—for cogitation
Resides not in that man that does not [think],—
My wife is slippery? If thou [wilt] confess,
Or else be impudently negative,
To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say