Her. That's true enough; Though 'tis a saying, Sir, not due to me, Leon. You will not own it. Her. More than mistress of, Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not (With whom I am accused), I do confess, I loved him, as in honour he required; Which not to have done, I think, had been in me To you, and toward your friend; whose love had spoke, 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 Leon. You knew of his departure, as you know 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, More criminal in thee, than it), so thou Her. Sir, spare your threats; The bug, which you would fright me with, I seek. 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 comfort, * The aim. VOL. II. Ill-starred. To women of all fashion:-Lastly, hurried 1 Lord. This your request Is altogether just: therefore, bring forth, [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. Been both at Delphos; and from thence have brought Of great Apollo's priest; and that, since then, You have not dared 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. Praised! Leon. Hast thou read truth? Offi. Ay, my lord; even so As it is here set down. 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 The prince, your son, with mere conceit and fear * Strength to come out after her late child-bearing. † Fate. Leon. How! gone? Serv. 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'ercharged; she will recover.I have too much believed mine own suspicion :'Beseech you, tenderly apply to her Some remedies for life.-Apollo, pardon [Exeunt PAULINA and LADIES, with HERM. My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle !— New woo my queen; recall the good Camillo; My friend Polixenes: which had been done, Not doing it, and being done : he, most humane, Re-enter PAULINA. Paul. 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? Must I receive; whose every word deserves To have him kill a king; poor trespasses, Of the young prince; whose honourable thoughts When I have said, cry, woe!-the queen, the queen, The sweetest, dearest, creature's dead; and vengeance for❜t Not dropp'd down yet. 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 lip, her eye, Heat outwardly, or breath within, I'll serve you Leon. Go on, go on: Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved 1 Lord. Say no more; Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault Paul. I am sorry for't; All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, 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; 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 * (He had.) To the dead bodies of my queen, and son: Our shame perpetual: Once a day I'll visit The chapel where they lie; and tears, shed there, Nature will bear up with this exercise, So long I daily vow to use it. Come, [Exeunt. SCENE III.—Bohemia. A desert Country near the Sea. Enter ANTIGONUS, with the Child; and a MARINER. Ant. Thou art perfect* then, our ship hath touch'd upon The deserts of Bohemia? Mar. Ay, my lord; and fear We have landed in ill-time: the skies look grimly, Ant. Their sacred wills be done !-Go, get aboard; I call upon thee. Mar. Make your best haste; and go not Ant. Go thou away: I'll follow instantly. Mar. I am glad at heart To be so rid of the business. Ant. Come, poor babe : I have heard, (but not believed,) the spirits of the dead So fill'd and so becoming in pure white robes, My cabin where I lay: thrice bow'd before me; There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe I prythee, callt; for this ungentle business, [Exit. *Well-assured. |