Keep.

And, madam,

[Exit Keeper.

I must be present at your conference.
Paul. Well, be it so, pr'ythee.
Here's such ado to make no stain a stain,
As passes colouring.

Re-enter Keeper, with Emilia.

Dear gentlewoman, how fares our gracious lady?
Emil. As well as one so great, and so forlorn,
May hold together: On her frights, and griefs,
(Which never tender lady hath borne greater,)
She is, something before her time, deliver❜d.
Paul. A boy?
Emil.
A daughter; and a goodly babe,
Lusty, and like to live: the queen receives
Much comfort in't: says, My poor prisoner,
I am innocent as you.
Paul.
These dangerous unsafe lunes' o'the king! be-
shrew them!

I dare be sworn :-

He must be told on't, and he shall: the office
Becomes a woman best; I'll take it upon me:
If I prove honey-mouthed, let my tongue blister;
And never to my red-look'd anger be

The trumpet any more:-Pray you, Emilia,
Commend my best obedience to the queen;
If she dares trust me with her little babe,
I'll show't the king, and undertake to be
Her advocate to th' loudest: We do not know
How he may soften at the sight o'the child;
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades, when speaking fails.
Emil.

Most worthy madam,
Your honour, and your goodness, is so evident,
That your free undertaking cannot miss
A thriving issue; there is no lady living,
So meet for this great errand: Please your

ship

To visit the next room, I'll presently
Acquaint the queen of your most noble offer;
Who, but to-day, hammer'd of this design;
But durst not tempt a minister of honour,
Lest she should be denied.

Paul.

| SCENE_III.—The same. A room in the palace. Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords, and other attendants.

Leon. Nor night, nor day, no rest: It is but
weakness

To bear the matter thus; mere weakness, if
The cause were not in being;-part o'the cause,
She, the adultress;-for the harlot king
Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank
And level of my brain, plot-proof: but she
I can hook to me: Say, that she were gone,
Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest
Might come to me again.Who's there?
1 Atten.

Leon. How does the boy?
i Atten.

My lord? [Advancing.

He took good rest to-night; 'Tis hop'd, his sickness is discharg'd. Leon.

His nobleness!

To see,

Conceiving the dishonour of his mother,
He straight declin'd, droop'd, took it deeply;
Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on't in himself;
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
And downright languish'd.-Leave me solely:

-go,

See how he fares. [Exit attend.]-Fie, fie! no
thought of him ;-

The very thought of my revenges that way
Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty;
And in his parties, his alliance,-Let him be,
Until a time may serve for present vengeance,
Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes
Laugh at me; make their pastime at my sorrow:
They should not laugh, if I could reach them; nor
Shall she, within my power.

Enter Paulina, with a child.

Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas,
Than the queen's life? a gracious innocent soul;
lady-More free, than he is jealous.
That's enough.

Tell her, Emilia,

I'll use that tongue I have: if wit flow from it,
As boldness from my bosom, let it not be doubted
I shall do good.
Emil.

Now be you blest for it!

I'll to the queen: Please you, come something

Ant.

1 Atten. Madam, he hath not slept to-night;
commanded
None should come at him.
Paul.

Not so hot, good sir;
I come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you,-
That creep like shadows by him, and do sigh
At each his needless heavings, such as you
Nourish the cause of his awaking: I
Do come with words as med'cinal as true;
Honest, as either; to purge him of that humour,
That presses him from sleep.

Leon.
What noise there, ho?
Paul. No noise, my lord; but needful conference,
About some gossips for your highness.

What, canst not rule her? Paul. From all dishonesty, he can in this, Do not you fear: upon (Unless he take the course that you have done, Mine honour I will stand 'twixt you and danger. Commit me, for committing honour,) trust it, [Exeunt. He shall not rule me.

(1) Frenzies.

(2) Mark and aim.

Ant.

Lo you now; you hear! (3) Alone. When she will take the rein, I let her rum;

But she'll not stumble.
Good my liege, I come,-
Paul.
And, I beseech you, hear me, who profess
Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
Your most obedient counsellor; yet that dare
Less appear so, in comforting your evils,'
Than such as most seem yours:-I say, I come
From your good queen.
Good queen!
Leon.

Paul. Good queen, my lord, good queen: I say,
good queen;

Force her hence.

And would by combat make her good, so were I
A man, the worst2 about you.
Leon.
Paul. Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes,
First hand me: on mine own accord, I'll off;
But, first, I'll do my errand.-The good queen,
For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter;
Here 'tis; commends it to your blessing.
[Laying down the child.
Out!
Leon.
A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o'door:
A most intelligencing bawd!

Paul.

Not so:

I am as ignorant in that, as you
In so entitling me: and no less honest
Than you are mad; which is enough, I'll warrant,
As this world goes, to pass for honest.

Leon.

Traitors!
Will you not push her out? Give her the bastard :-
Thou dotard, [To Antigonus.] thou art woman-
4
tir'd, unroosted

By thy dame Partlet here,-take up the bastard;
Tak't up, I say; giv't to thy crone."

Paul.

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou

For ever

Tak'st up the princess, by that forced baseness
Which he has put upon't!

Leon.

He dreads his wife.

Paul. So I would you did; then, 'twere past all
doubt,

You'd call your children yours.
Leon.

A nest of traitors!
Ant. I am none, by this good light.
Nor I; nor any,
Paul.
But one, that's here; and that's himself: for he
The sacred honour of himself, his queen's,
His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander,
Whose sting is sharper than the sword's; and will

not

(For, as the case now stands, it is a curse
He cannot be compell'd to't,) once remove
The root of his opinion, which is rotten,
As ever oak, or stone, was sound.

Leon.

A callat,

Of boundless tongue: who late hath beat her hus

band,

And now baits me!-This brat is none of mine;
It is the issue of Polixenes:

Hence with it; and, together with the dam,
Commit them to the fire.

It is yours;
Paul.
And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge,
So like you, 'tis the worse.-Behold, my lords,
Although the print be little, the whole matter
And copy of the father: eye, nose, lip,
The trick of his frown, his forehead; nay, the valley,
The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek; his
smiles;

Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you,
Yea, scandalous to the world.

On your allegiance,
Leon.
Where were her life? she durst not call me so,
Out of the chamber with her. Were I a tyrant,
If she did know me one. Away with her.

Paul. I pray you, do not push me; I'll be gone.
her
Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis yours : Jove send

A better guiding spirit!-What need these hands?-
You that are thus so tender o'er his follies,
Will never do him good, not one of you.
So, so:-Farewell; we are gone.

[Exit.
Leon. Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this.-
My child? away with't!-even thou, that hast
A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence,
And see it instantly consum'd with fire;
Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight:
Within this hour bring me word 'tis done,
(And by good testimony,) or I'll seize thy life,
With what thou else call'st thine: If thou refuse,
And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so;
The bastard brains with these my proper hands
Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire;
For thou sett'st on thy wife.
I did not, sir:
Ant.
These lords, my noble fellows, if they please,
Can clear me in't.

Which, being so horrible, so bloody, must
Leon. I am a feather for each wind that blows:-
Lead on to some foul issue: We all kneel.
Shall I live on, to see this bastard kneel
And call me father? Better burn it now,
Than curse it then. But be it; let it live:
[To Antigonus.
It shall not neither.-You, sir, come you hither;
You, that have been so tenderly officious

(6) Forced is false; uttered with violence to truth.
(7) Trull. (8) The colour of jealousy.
(9) Worthless fellow.

SCENE I-The same. A street in some Town. I doubt not then, but innocence shall make

Scene II.

WINTER'S TALE.

it

Amoiety of the throne, a great king's daughter,
The mother to a hopeful prince,-here standing
To prate and talk for life, and honour, 'fore
Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize
As I weigh grief, which I would spare: for honour,
'Tis a derivative from me to mine,
And only that I stand for. I appeal
To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes
Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
How merited to be so; since he came,
With what encounter so uncurrent I

Have strain'd, to appear thus: if one jot beyond
The bound of honour; or, in act, or will,
That way inclining; harden'd be the hearts
Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin
Cry, Fie upon my grave!

Leon.

I ne'er heard yet,

That any of these bolder vices wanted
Less impudence to gainsay what they did,
Than to perform it first.

That's true enough;
Her.
Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.
Leon. You will not own it.
More than mistress of,
Her.
Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,
(With whom I am accus'd,) I do confess,
I lov'd him, as in honour he requir'd;
With such a kind of love, as might become
A lady like me; with a love, even such,
So, and no other, as yourself commanded:
Which not to have done, I think, had been in me
Both disobedience and ingratitude,

To you, and toward your friend; whose love had
spoke,

Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely,
That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy,
I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd
For me to try how: all I know of it
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:
My life stands in the level of your dreams,
Which I'll lay down.

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 fact2 are so,) so past all truth:
Which to deny, concerns more than avails:

For as

Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself,
No father owning it, (which is, indeed,
More criminal in thee, than it,) so thou
Shalt feel our justice; in whose easiest passage,
Look for no less than death.
Sir, spare your threats:

Her.
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,
I do give lost; for I do feel it gone,
But know not how it went: My second joy,
And first-fruits of my body, from his presence,
I am barr'd, like one infectious: My third com-

fort,

Starr'd most unluckily,' is from my breast,

(1) Is within the reach.

(2) They who have done like you.

(3) Ill-starred; born under an inauspicious planet.

I

(The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth,
Haled out to murder: Myself on every post
Proclaim'd a strumpet; With immodest hatred
To child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs
To women of all fashion:-Lastly, hurried
Here to this place, i'the open air, before
have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,
Tell me what blessings I have here alive,
That I should fear to die? Therefore, proceed.
But yet hear this; mistake me not;No! life,
I prize it not a straw :-but for mine honour,
(Which I would free,) if I shall be condemn'd
Upon surmises; all proofs sleeping else,
But what your jealousies awake; I tell you,
'Tis rigour, and not law.-Your honours all,
I do refer me to the oracle;
Apollo be my judge.

1 Lord.

This your request
Is altogether just: therefore, bring forth,
And in Apollo's name, his oracle.

[Exeunt certain Officers.
Her. The emperor of Russia was my father:"
O, that he were alive, and here beholding
His daughter's trial! that he did but see
The flatness of my misery; yet with eyes
Of pity, not revenge!

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

This seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd
Of great Apollo's priest; and that, since then,
You have not dar'd to break the holy seal,
Nor read the secrets in't.

Cleo. Dion.

All this we swear.
Leon. Break up the seals, and read.

Offi. [Reads. Hermione is chaste, Polixenes 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!
Her.

Leon. Hast thou read truth?
Offi.

As it is here set down.

Praised!

Ay, my lord; even so

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!

What is the business?
Leon.
Serv. O sir, I shall be hated to report it:
The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear
Of the queen's speed,' is gone.

Leon.
Serv.

How! gone?
Is dead.
Leon. Apollo's angry; and the heavens them-

selves

Do strike at my injustice. [Hermione faints.] How now there?

Paul. This news is mortal to the queen :-Look
down,

Take her hence:
Leon.
Her heart is but o'ercharg'd; she will recover.→

And see what death is doing.

(4) i. e. The degree of strength which it is customary to acquire before women are suffered to g abroad after child-bearing..

(5) of the event of the queen's trial.

I have too much believ'd mine own suspicion:- [In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
'Beseech you, tenderly apply to her
To look that way thou wert.
Some remedies for life.-Apollo, pardon
Leon.

[Exeunt Paulina and Ladies, with Her.
My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle!-
I'll reconcile me to Polixenes;

New woo my queen; recall the good Camillo;
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy:
For, being transported by my jealousies
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose
Camillo for the minister, to poison

My friend Polixenes; which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
My swift command, though I with death, and with
Reward, did threaten and encourage him,
Not doing it, and being done: he, most humane,
And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest
Unclasp'd my practice; quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great; and to the certain hazard
Of all incertainties himself commended,1
No richer than his honour:-How he glisters
Thorough my rust! and how his piety
Does my deeds make the blacker!

Paul.

Re-enter Paulina.

Wo the while! O, cut my lace; lest my heart, cracking it, Break too!

Go on, go on:

Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserv'd
All tongues to talk their bitterest.
Say no more;

1 Lord.
Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault
I'the boldness of your speech.

Paul.

I am sorry for❜t;
All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
I do repent: Alas, I have show'd too much
The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd
To the noble heart.-What's gone, and what's past
help,

Should be past grief: Do not receive affliction
At my petition, I beseech you; rather
Let me be punish'd, that have minded you
Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege,
Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman:
The love I bore your queen,-lo, fool again!-
I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children;
I'll not remember you of my own lord,
Who is lost too: Take your patience to you,
And I'll say nothing.

Leon.
Thou didst speak but well,
When most the truth; which I receive much better
Than to be pitied of thee. Pr'ythee, bring me
To the dead bodies of my queen, and son:
One grave shall be for both; upon them shall
The causes of their death appear, unto
Our shame perpetual: Once a day I'll visit
The chapel where they lie; and tears, shed there,
Shall be my recreation: So long as
Nature will bear up with this exercise,
So long I daily vow to use it. Come,
And lead me to these sorrows.

[Exeunt. SCENE III-Bohemia. A desert country near Enter Antigonus, with the child; and

the sea.

a Mariner.

Ant. Thou art perfect3 then, our ship hath touch'd upon

The deserts of Bohemia ?

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 roison'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, To be or none, or little; though a devil Would have shed water out of fire,2 ere done't: Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death Of the young prince; whose honourable thoughts (Thoughts high for one so tender,) cleft the heart Look to thy bark; I'll not be long, before That could conceive, a gross and foolish sire I call upon thee. Blemish'd his gracious dam: this is not, no, Mar. Make your best haste; and go not Laid to thy answer: But the last,-0, lords, Too far i'the land: 'tis like to be loud weather; When I have said, cry, wo!-the queen, the queen, Besides, this place is famous for the creatures The sweetest, dearest, creature's dead; and ven-Of prey that keep upon't. geance for't

Not dropp'd down yet. 1 Lord.

The higher powers forbid ! Paul. I say, she's dead; I'll swear't: if word, nor oath,

Prevail not, go and see if you can bring
Tincture, or lustre, in her líp, her eye,
Heat outwardly, or breath within, I'll serve you
As I would do the gods.-But, O thou tyrant!
Do not repent these things; for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can stir: therefore, betake thee
To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren mountain, and still winter

Mar.
Ay, my lord: and fear
We have landed in ill time; the skies look grimly,
And threaten present blusters. In my conscience,
The heavens with that we have in hand are angry,
And frown upon us.

Ant. Their sacred wills be done!-Go, get
aboard;

Ant.
I'll follow instantly.

Mar.

Go thou away:

I am glad at heart
To be so rid o'the business.

Ant.

[Exit.

Come, poor babe :

I have heard (but not believ'd,) the spirits of the dead
May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother
Appear'd to me last night; for ne'er was dream
So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head on one side, some another;
I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,

So fill'd, and so becoming: in pure white robes,
Like very sanctity, she did approach

My cabin where I lay: thrice bow'd before me;
And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes
Became two spouts: the fury spent, anon

(3) Well-assured.