Leon. Traitors! Will you not push her out? Give her the bastard : Thou, dotard [To ANTIGONUS], thou art woman-tired* roosted By thy dame Partlet here,-take up the bastard; Take't up, I say; give't to thy crone. Paul. For ever Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou Tak'st up the princess, by that forcedt 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. Paul. Nor I; nor any, 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, Leon. A callet, Of boundless tongue; who late hath beat her husband, It is the issue of Polixenes: Hence with it; and, together with the dam, Paul. It is yours; And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge, The trick of his frown, his forehead; nay, the valley, The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours Leon. A gross hag!— And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd, That wilt not stay her tongue. Ant. Hang all the husbands, That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself Hardly one subject. Leon. Once more, take her hence. un * Hen-pecked. † False. + Scold. The colour of jealousy. Lozel; i. e. rascal. Paul. A most unworthy and unnatural lord Can do no more. Leon. I'll have thee burn'd. Paul. I care not: It is a heretic, that makes the fire, Not she, which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant; (Not able to produce more accusation Than your own weak-hinged fancy), something savours Leon. On your allegiance, Out of the chamber with her. Were I a tyrant, Paul. I pray you do not push me; I'll be gone. So, so:-Farewell; we are gone. Leon. Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this. My child? away with't!-even thou, that hast And see it instantly consumed with fire; Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight: Ant. I did not, Sir: These lords, my noble fellows, if they please, 1 Lord. We can; my royal liege, He is not guilty of her coming hither. Leon. You are liars all. 1 Lord. 'Beseech your highness, give us better credit: We have always truly served you; and beseech So to esteem of us: And on our knees we beg (As recompense of our dear services, Past, and to come), that you do change this purpose; Which, being so horrible, so bloody, must Lead on to some foul issue: We all kneel. Leon. I am a feather for each wind that blows: Shall I live on, to see this bastard kneel And call me father? Better burn it now, It shall not neither.-You, Sir, come you hither; You, that have been so tenderly officious [Exit. [To ANTIGONUS. With lady Margery, your midwife, there, To save this bastard's life :-for 'tis a bastard, So sure as this beard's grey,-what will you adventure Ant. Anything, my lord, That my ability may undergo, And nobleness impose: at least, thus much; I'll pawn the little blood which I have left, To save the innocent: anything possible. Leon. It shall be possible: Swear by this sword Thou wilt perform my bidding. Ant. I will, my lord. Leon. Mark, and perform it (seest thou?); for the fail Of any point in't shall not only be Death to thyself, but to thy lewd-tongued wife; Whom, for this time, we pardon. We enjoin thee, Ant. I swear to do this, though a present death In more than this deed doth require! and blessing, Leon. No, I'll not rear Another's issue. 1 Atten. Please your highness, posts, [Exit, with the child. From those you sent to the oracle, are come Being well arrived from Delphos, are both landed, 1 Lord. So please you, Sir, their speed Hath been beyond account. Leon. Twenty-three days They have been absent: Tis good speed; foretells, The great Apollo suddenly will have The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords; *I. e. commit it to some place, as a stranger. A just and open trial. While she lives, [Exeunt ACT III. SCENE I.-The same. A Street in some Town. Enter CLEOMENES and DION. Cleo. The climate 's delicate; the air most sweet: Fertile the isle; the temple much surpassing The common praise it bears. Dion. I shall report, For most it caught me, the celestial habits (Methinks, I so should term them), and the reverence Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice! How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly It was i' the offering! Cleo. But, of all, the burst And the ear-deafening voice o' the oracle, That I was nothing. Dion. If the event o' the journey Prove as successful to the queen,-O, be't so!- Cleo. Great Apollo, Turn all to the best! These proclamations, I little like. Dion. The violent carriage of it Will clear or end the business: When the oracle (Thus by Apollo's great divine seal'd up) Shall the contents discover, something rare, And gracious be the issue! -Go,-fresh horses; SCENE II.-The same. A Court of Justice. [Exeunt. LEONTES, LORDS, and OFFICERS, appear properly seated. Leon. This sessions (to our great grief, we pronounce) Even pushes 'gainst our heart: The party tried, The daughter of a king; our wife; and one of us too much beloved.-Let us be clear'd Of being tyrannous, since we so openly *Indifferent. Offi. It is his highness' pleasure, that the queen Appear in person here in court.-Silence! HERMIONE is brought in guarded; PAULINA and LADIES, attending. Leon. Read the indictment. Offi. Hermione, queen to the worthy Leontes, king of Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned of high treason, in committing adultery with Polixenes, king of Bohemia; and conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord the king, thy royal husband; the pretence whereof being by circumstances partly laid open, thou, Hermione, contrary to the faith and allegiance of a true subject, didst counsel and aid them, for their better safety, to fly away by night. Her. Since what I am to say, must be but that Which contradicts my accusation; and The testimony on my part, no other But what comes from myself; it shall scarce boot me Tremble at patience.-You, my lord, best know 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 Have strain'd to appear thus: if one jot beyond Leon. I ne'er heard yet, That any of these bolder vices wanted *Scheme laid. † Own, possess. |