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Even then will rush to knowledge. Go, fresh horses;
And gracious be the iffue!

[Exeunt.

Leo.

SCENE II.

A court of justice.

Leontes, Lords, and Officers, appear properly feated.

"T

HIS feffion, to our great grief, we pronounce,

Even pushes 'gainft our heart: the party try'd,
The daughter of a king, our wife, and one

Of us too much belov'd: let us be clear'd

Of being tyrannous, fince we fo openly
Proceed in justice, which shall have due course,
Even to the guilt, or the purgation.

Produce the prisoner.

Offi. It is his highness' pleasure, that the queen
Appear in perfon here in court. Silence!

Hermione is brought in guarded; Paulina and Ladies.

Leo. Read the indictment.

Offi. Hermione, queen to the worthy Leontes, king of Sicilia, thou art here accufed and arraigned of high treafon, in committing adultery with Polixenes king of Bithynia, and confpiring with Camillo to take away the life of our fovereign lord the king, thy royal husband; the pretence whereof being by circumstances partly lay'd open, thou, Hermione, contrary to the faith and allegiance of a true fubject, didft counfel and aid them, for their better fafety, to fly away by night.

Her. Since what I am to say, must be but that

Which contradicts my accufation, and

The teftimony on my part no other

But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me

To fay, not guilty: mine integrity

Being counted falshood, shall, as I express it,

Be

Be fo receiv'd. But thus: if powers divine
Behold our human actions, as they do,
I doubt not then, but innocence fhall make
Falfe accufations blush, and tyranny

Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know,
Who leaft will feem to do fo, my past life
Hath been as continent, as chafte, as true,
As I am now unhappy; which is more
Than history can pattern, though devis'd
And play'd to take fpectators: for behold me
A fellow of the royal bed, which owe

A moiety 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 it
As I weigh grief which I would fpare: for honour,
'Tis a derivative from me to mine,

And only that I ftand for. I appeal

To your own confcience, fir, before Polixenes
Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
How merited to be fo: fince he came,
With what encounter fo uncurrent have
I ftrain'd t' appear thus? if one jot beyond
The bounds 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!

Leo. I never heard yet

That any of those bolder vices wanted

Lefs impudence to gainfay what they did

Than to perform it first.

Her. That's true enough,

Though 'tis a saying, fir, not due to me.

Leo. You will not own it.

Her. More than I'm mistress of,

Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not

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At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,
With whom I am accus'd, I do confefs,
I lov'd him, as in honour he requir'd;
With fuch 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 towards your friend; whofe love had spoke,
Even fince it could fpeak, from an infant, freely,

That it was yours. Now, for confpiracy,

I know not how it taftes, though it be dish'd
For me to try how; all I know of it,

Is, that Camillo was an honeft man;

And why he left your court, the gods themselves,
Wotting no more than I, are ignorant.

Leo. You knew of his departure, as you know
What you have underta'en to do in's absence.
Her. Sir,

You speak a language that I understand not:
My life ftands in the level of your dreams,
Which I'll lay down.

Leo. Your actions are my dreams.

You had a bastard by Polixenes,

And I but dream'd it: as you are past all fhame,
(Those of your fact are) so you're past all truth;
Which to deny, concerns more than avails:
For as thy brat's caft 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 paffage
Look for no less than death.

Her. Sir, spare your threats;

The bug, which you would fright we with, I seek :
To me can life be no commodity;

The crown and comfort of my life, your favour,

I do give loft, for I do feel it gone,

But know not how it went. My fecond joy,
The first-fruits of my body, from his prefence
I'm barr'd like one infectious. My third comfort,
Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast
(The innocent milk in it's moft innocent mouth)
Hal'd out to murder; myself on every post
Proclaim'd a strumpet with immodeft hatred;
The child-bed privilege deny'd which 'longs
To women of all fashion; laftly, hurried
Here to this place, i'th' open air, before
I have got ftrength of limbs. And now, my liege,
Tell me what bleffings I have here alive,
That I fhould fear to die? therefore proceed:
But yet hear this; mistake me not; no! life,
I prize it not a ftraw, but for mine honour
Which I would free; if I fhall be condemn'd
Upon furmises, all proofs fleeping else
But what your jealoufies awake, I tell you
'Tis rigour, and not law. Your honours all,
I do refer me to the oracle:

Apollo be my judge.

SCENE III.

Enter Dion, and Cleomines.

Lord. This your request

Is altogether juft; therefore bring forth,
And in Apollo's name, his oracle.

Her. The emperor of Russia was my father:
O, that he were alive, and here beholding
His daughter's trial! that he did but fee
The flatnefs of my mifery; yet with eyes

Of pity, not revenge!

Offi. You here fhall fwear upon the fword of juftice, That you, Cleomines and Dion, have

Been

Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought
This feal'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 feal,
Nor read the fecrets in't.

Cleo. Dion. All this we fwear.

Leo. Break up the feals, and read.

Offi. Hermione is chafte, Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true fubject, Leontes a jealous tyrant, his innocent babe truly begotten; and the king fhall live without an heir, if that which is loft be not found.

Lords. Now bleffed be the great Apollo !

Her. Praised!

Leo. Haft thou read the truth?

Offi. Ay, my lord, even fo as here fet down.
Leo. There is no truth at all i'th' oracle:
The feffion fhall proceed; this is mere falfhood.

Enter Servant.

Ser. My lord the king, the king!

Leo. What is the business?

Ser. O fir, I fhall be hated to report it.

The prince your fon, with mere conceit and fear
Of the queen's fpeed, is gone.

Leo. How gone?

Ser. Is dead.

Leo. Apollo's angry; and the heaven's themselves

Do ftrike at my injuftice. How now there?

[Her. faints.

Pau. This news is mortal to the queen: look down,

And fee what death is doing.

Leo. Take her hence;

Her heart is but o'er-charg'd; fhe will recover.

[Exeunt Paulina and Ladies with Hermione.

SCENE

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