Nay, hated too, worse than the great’st infection
That e’er was heard or read!
Camillo
Swear his thought over
By each particular star in heaven and
By all their influences, you may as well
Forbid the sea for to obey the moon
As or by oath remove or counsel shake
The fabric of his folly, whose foundation
Is piled upon his faith and will continue
The standing of his body.
Polixenes
How should this grow?
Camillo
I know not: but I am sure ’tis safer to
Avoid what’s grown than question how ’tis born.
If therefore you dare trust my honesty,
That lies enclosed in this trunk which you
Shall bear along impawn’d, away to-night!
Your followers I will whisper to the business,
And will by twos and threes at several posterns
Clear them o’ the city. For myself, I’ll put
My fortunes to your service, which are here
By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain;
For, by the honour of my parents, I
Have utter’d truth: which if you seek to prove,
I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer
Than one condemn’d by the king’s own mouth, thereon
His execution sworn.
Polixenes
I do believe thee:
I saw his heart in ’s face. Give me thy hand:
Be pilot to me and thy places shall
Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready and
My people did expect my hence departure
Two days ago. This jealousy
Is for a precious creature: as she’s rare,
Must it be great, and as his person’s mighty,
Must it be violent, and as he does conceive
He is dishonour’d by a man which ever
Profess’d to him, why, his revenges must
In that be made more bitter. Fear o’ershades me:
Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing
Of his ill-ta’en suspicion! Come, Camillo;
I will respect thee as a father if
Thou bear’st my life off hence: let us avoid.
Camillo
It is in mine authority to command
The keys of all the posterns: please your highness
To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away.
Exeunt
ACT II
SCENE I. A ROOM IN LEONTES’ PALACE.
Enter Hermione, Mamillius, and Ladies
Hermione
Take the boy to you: he so troubles me,
’Tis past enduring.
First Lady
Come, my gracious lord,
Shall I be your playfellow?
Mamillius
No, I’ll none of you.
First Lady
Why, my sweet lord?
Mamillius
You’ll kiss me hard and speak to me as if
I were a baby still. I love you better.
Second Lady
And why so, my lord?
Mamillius
Not for because
Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say,
Become some women best, so that there be not
Too much hair there, but in a semicircle
Or a half-moon made with a pen.
Second Lady
Who taught you this?
Mamillius
I learnt it out of women’s faces. Pray now
What colour are your eyebrows?
First Lady
Blue, my lord.
Mamillius
Nay, that’s a mock: I have seen a lady’s nose
That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.
First Lady
Hark ye;
The queen your mother rounds apace: we shall
Present our services to a fine new prince
One of these days; and then you’ld wanton with us,
If we would have you.
Second Lady
She is spread of late
Into a goodly bulk: good time encounter her!
Hermione
What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now
I am for you again: pray you, sit by us,
And tell ’s a tale.
Mamillius
Merry or sad shall’t be?
Hermione
As merry as you will.
Mamillius
A sad tale’s best for winter: I have one
Of sprites and goblins.
Let’s have that, good sir.
Come on, sit down: come on, and do your best
To fright me with your sprites; you’re powerful at it.
Mamillius
There was a man —
Hermione
Nay, come, sit down; then on.
Mamillius
Dwelt by a churchyard: I will tell it softly;
Yond crickets shall not hear it.
Hermione
Come on, then,
And give’t me in mine ear.
Enter Leontes, with Antigonus, Lords and others
Leontes
Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?
First Lord
Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never
Saw I men scour so on their way: I eyed them
Even to their ships.
Leontes
How blest am I
In my just censure, in my true opinion!
Alack, for lesser knowledge! how accursed
In being so blest! There may be in the cup
A spider steep’d, and one may drink, depart,
And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge
Is not infected: but if one present
The abhorr’d ingredient to his eye, make known
How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider.
Camillo was his help in this, his pander:
There is a plot against my life, my crown;
All’s true that is mistrusted: that false villain
Whom I employ’d was pre-employ’d by him:
He has discover’d my design, and I
Remain a pinch’d thing; yea, a very trick
For them to play at will. How came the posterns
So easily open?
First Lord
By his great authority;
Which often hath no less prevail’d than so
On your command.
Leontes
I know’t too well.
Give me the boy: I am glad you did not nurse him:
Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you
Have too much blood in him.
Hermione
What is this? sport?
Leontes
Bear the boy hence; he shall not come about her;
Away with him! and let her sport herself
With that she’s big with; for ’tis Polixenes
Has made thee swell thus.
Hermione
But I’ld say he had not,
And I’ll be sworn you would believe my saying,
Howe’er you lean to the nayward.
Leontes
You, my lords,
Look on her, mark her well; be but about
To say ‘she is a goodly lady,’ and
The justice of your bearts will thereto add
’Tis pity she’s not honest, honourable:’
Praise her but for this her without-door form,
Which on my faith deserves high speech, and straight
The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands
That calumny doth use — O, I am out —
That mercy does, for calumny will sear
Virtue itself: these shrugs, these hums and ha’s,
When you have said ‘she’s goodly,’ come between
Ere you can say ‘she’s honest:’ but be ’t known,
From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,
She’s an adulteress.
Hermione
Should a villain say so,
The most replenish’d villain in the world,
He were as much more villain: you, my lord,
Do but mistake.
Leontes
You have mistook, my lady,
Polixenes for Leontes: O thou thing!
Which I’ll not call a creature of thy place,
Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,
Should a like language use to all degrees
And mannerly distinguishment leave out
Betwixt the prince and beggar: I have said
She’s an adulteress; I have said with whom:
More, she’s a traitor and Camillo is
A federary with her, and one that knows
What she should shame to know herself
But with her most vile principal, that she’s
A bed-swerver, even as bad as those
That vulgars give bold’st titles, ay, and privy
To this their late escape.
Hermione
No, by my life.
Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you,
When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that
You thus have publish’d me! Gentle my lord,
You scarce can right me throughly then to say
You did mistake.
Leontes
No; if I mistake
In those foundations which I build upon,
The centre is not big enough to bear
A school-boy’s top. Away with her! to prison!
He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty
But that he speaks.
Hermione
There’s some ill planet reigns:
I must be patient till the heavens look
With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords,
I am not prone to weeping, as our sex
Commonly are; the want of which vain dew
Perchance shall dry your pities: but I have
That honourable grief lodged here which burns
Worse than tears drown: beseech you all, my lords,
With thoughts so qualified as your charities
Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so
The king’s will be perform’d!
Leontes
Shall I be heard?
Hermione
Who is’t that goes with me? Beseech your highness,
My women may be with me; for you see
My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools;
There is no cause: when you shall know your mistress
Has deserved prison, then abound in tears
As I come out: this action I now go on
Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord:
I never wish’d to see you sorry; now
I trust I shall. My women, come; you have leave.
Leontes
Go, do our bidding; hence!
Exit Hermione, guarded; with Ladies
First Lord
Beseech your highness, call the queen again.
Antigonus
Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice
Prove violence; in the which three great ones suffer,
Yourself, your queen, your son.
First Lord
For her, my lord,
I dare my life lay down and will do’t, sir,
Please you to accept it, that the queen is spotless
I’ the eyes of heaven and to you; I mean,
In this which you accuse her.
Antigonus
If it prove
She’s otherwise, I’ll keep my stables where
I lodge my wife; I’ll go in couples with her;
Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her;
For every inch of woman in the world,
Ay, every dram of woman’s flesh is false, If she be.
Leontes
Hold your peaces.
First Lord
Good my lord,—
Antigonus
It is for you we speak, not for ourselves:
You are abused and by some putter-on
That will be damn’d for’t; would I knew the villain,
I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw’d,
I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven
The second and the third, nine, and some five;
If this prove true, they’ll pay for’t: by mine honour,
I’ll geld ’em all; fourteen they shall not see,
To bring false generations: they are co-heirs;
And I had rather glib myself than they
Should not produce fair issue.
Leontes
Cease; no more.
You smell this business with a sense as cold
As is a dead man’s nose: but I do see’t and feel’t
As you feel doing thus; and see withal
The instruments that feel.
Antigonus
If it be so,
We need no grave to bury honesty:
There’s not a grain of it the face to sweeten
Of the whole dungy earth.
Leontes
What! lack I credit?
First Lord
I had rather you did lack than I, my lord,
Upon this ground; and more it would content me
To have her honour true than your suspicion,
Be blamed for’t how you might.
Leontes
Why, what need we
Commune with you of this, but rather follow
Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative
Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness
Imparts this; which if you, or stupefied
Or seeming so in skill, cannot or will not
Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves
We need no more of your advice: the matter,
The loss, the gain, the ordering on’t, is all
Properly ours.
Antigonus
And I wish, my liege,
You had only in your silent judgment tried it,
Without more overture.
Leontes
How could that be?
Either thou art most ignorant by age,
Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo’s flight,
Added to their familiarity,
Which was as gross as ever touch’d conjecture,
That lack’d sight only, nought for approbation
But only seeing, all other circumstances
Made up to the deed, doth push on this proceeding:
Yet, for a greater confirmation,
For in an act of this importance ’twere
Most piteous to be wild, I have dispatch’d in post
To sacred Delphos, to Apollo’s temple,
Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
Of stuff’d sufficiency: now from the oracle
They will bring all; whose spiritual counsel had,
Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well?
First Lord
Well done, my lord.
Leontes
Though I am satisfied and need no more
Than what I know, yet shall the oracle
Give rest to the minds of others, such as he
Whose ignorant credulity will not
Come up to the truth. So have we thought it good
From our free person she should be confined,
Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence
Be left her to perform. Come, follow us;
We are to speak in public; for this business
Will raise us all.
Antigonus
[Aside]
To laughter,
as I take it,
If the good truth were known.
Exeunt
SCENE II. A PRISON.
Enter Paulina, a Gentleman, and Attendants
Paulina
The keeper of the prison, call to him; let him have knowledge who I am.
Exit Gentleman
Good lady,
No court in Europe is too good for thee;
What dost thou then in prison?
Re-enter Gentleman, with the Gaoler
Now, good sir,
You know me, do you not?
Gaoler
For a worthy lady
And one whom much I honour.
Paulina
Pray you then,
Conduct me to the queen.
Gaoler
I may not, madam:
To the contrary I have express commandment.
Paulina
Here’s ado,
To lock up honesty and honour from
The access of gentle visitors!
Is’t lawful, pray you,
To see her women? any of them? Emilia?
Gaoler
So please you, madam,
To put apart these your attendants, I
Shall bring Emilia forth.
Paulina
I pray now, call her.
Withdraw yourselves.
Exeunt Gentleman and Attendants
Gaoler
And, madam,
I must be present at your conference.
Paulina
Well, be’t so, prithee.
Exit Gaoler
Here’s such ado to make no stain a stain
As passes colouring.
Re-enter Gaoler, with Emilia
Dear gentlewoman,
How fares our gracious lady?
Emilia
As well as one so great and so forlorn
May hold together: on her frights and griefs,
Which never tender lady hath born greater,
She is something before her time deliver’d.
Paulina
A boy?
Emilia
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.’
Paulina
I dare be sworn
These dangerous unsafe lunes i’ the king, beshrew them!
He must be told on’t, and he shall: the office
Becomes a woman best; I’ll take’t upon me:
If I prove honey-mouth’d 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 the loud’st. We do not know
How he may soften at the sight o’ the child:
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades when speaking fails.
Emilia
Most worthy madam,
Your honour and your goodness is so evident