And play'd, to take spectators; For behold me,— A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter, And only that I stand for. I appeal To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes With what encounter so uncurrent I Have strain'd, to appear thus: if one jot beyond Leon. I ne'er heard yet, That any of these bolder vices wanted Her. Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me. That's true enough; More than mistress of, Leon. You will not own it. Her. Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not At all acknowledge. For Polixenes Both disobedience and ingratitude, To you, and toward your friend; whose love had spoke, Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely, * Own, possess. That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy, I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd Is, that Camillo was an honest man; And, why he left your court, the gods themselves, Wotting no more than I, are ignorant. Leon. You knew of his departure, as you know What you have underta'en to do in his absence. Her. Sir, You speak a language that I understand not: Leon. Your actions are my dreams; You had a bastard by Polixenes, And I but dream'd it :-As you were past all shame, (Those of your fact are so), so past all truth: Which to deny, concerns more than avails: For as Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself, Shalt feel our justice; in whose easiest passage, Her. Sir, spare your threats: The bug, which you would fright me with, I seek. To me can life be no commodity: The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, But know not how it went: My second joy, Is within the reach. They who have done like you. Ill-starred; born under an inauspicious planet. To women of all fashion:-Lastly, hurried That I should fear to die? Therefore, proceed. Apollo be my judge. 1 Lord. This your request Is altogether just: therefore, bring forth, [Exeunt certain Officers. Re-enter Officers with Cleomenes and Dion. Offi. You here shall swear upon this sword of justice, That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have Been both at Delphos; and from thence have brought Cleo. Dion. All this we swear. Leon. Break up the seals, and read. Offi. [Reads.] Hermione is chaste, Polixenes i. e. The degree of strength which it is customary to acquire before women are suffered to go abroad after child-bearing, blameless, Camillo a true subject, Leontes a jealous tyrant, his innocent babe truly begotten; and the king shall live without an heir, if that, which is lost, be not found. Lords. Now blessed be the great Apollo! Leon. There is no truth at all i'the oracle: The sessions shall proceed; this is mere falsehood. Enter a Servant, hastily.' Serv. My lord the king, the king! Leon. What is the business? Serv. O sir, I shall be hated to report it: Leon. Serv. How! gone? Is dead. Leon. Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves Do strike at my injustice. [Hermione faints.] How now there? Paul. This news is mortal to the queen :-Look down, And see what death is doing. Leon. Take her hence: Her heart is but o'ercharg'd; she will recover.- Some remedies for life.-Apollo, pardon [Exeunt Paulina and Ladies, with Herm. My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle!I'll reconcile me to Polixenes; New woo my queen; recall the good Camillo; * Of the event of the queen's trial. To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose My friend Polixenes; which had been done, My swift command, though I with death, aud with Paul. Re-enter Paulina. Woe the while! O, cut my lace; lest my heart, cracking it, 1 Lord. What fit is this, good lady? Paul. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? What wheels? racks? fires? What flaying? boiling, In leads, or oils? what old, or newer torture Must I receive; whose every word deserves To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny Together working with thy jealousies,Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle For girls of nine!-O, think, what they have done, And then run mad, indeed; stark mad! for all Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing; That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant, And damnable ungrateful: nor was't much, Thou would'st have poison'd good Camillo's honour, To have him kill a king; poor trespasses, More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter, • Committed. |