SCENE I. A room in LEONTES' palace.
Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, and Ladies
Take the boy
to you: he so troubles me,
'Tis past enduring.
Come, my gracious
Shall I be your playfellow
No, I'll none of you.
Why, my sweet
You'll kiss me hard and speak to me as if
I were a baby
still. I love you better.
And why so, my lord?
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.
I learnt it out of women's faces. Pray
What colour are your eyebrows?
Blue, my lord.
Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a lady's nose
That has been blue
, but not her eyebrows.
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
If we would have you.
She is spread of late
Into a goodly bulk: good time encounter
What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now
I am for you again: pray
you, sit by us,
And tell 's a tale.
or sad shall't be?
As merry as you will.
A sad tale's best for winter: I have one
s and goblin
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
There was a man--
Nay, come, sit down; then on.
Dwelt by a churchyard
: I will tell it softly;
Yond crickets shall not hear it.
Come on, then,
And give't me in mine ear.
Enter LEONTES, with ANTIGONUS, Lords and others
Was he met there? his train
Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never
Saw I men scour
so on their way: I eyed them
Even to their ships.
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?
By his great authority
Which often hath no less prevail'd than so
On your command.
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
What is this? sport
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
But I'ld say he had not,
And I'll be sworn you would believe my saying,
Howe'er you lean to the nayward
You, my lords,
Look on her, mark her well; be but about
To say 'she is a goodly
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
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
Should a villain
The most replenish'd villain in the world,
He were as much more villain: you, my lord,
Do but mistake.
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
No, by my life.
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
No; if I mistake
In those foundations which I build upon,
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.
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!
Shall I be heard?
Who is't that goes with me? Beseech your highness,
My women may be with me; for you see
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.
Go, do our bidding; hence
Exit HERMIONE, guarded; with Ladies
Beseech your highness
, call the queen again.
Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice
; in the which three great ones suffer,
Yourself, your queen, your son.
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
If it prove
She's otherwise, I'll keep my stables
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.
Hold your peaces.
Good my lord,--
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
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 generation
s: they are co-heirs;
And I had rather glib
myself than they
Should not produce fair issue.
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.
If it be so,
We need no grave to bury
There's not a grain of it the face to sweeten
Of the whole dungy
What! lack I credit?
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.
Why, what need we
Commune with you of this, but rather follow
Our forceful instigation? Our perogative
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
And I wish, my liege
You had only in your silent judgment tried it,
Without more overture.
How could that be?
Either thou art most ignorant
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
Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well?
Well done, my lord.
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
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.
To laughter, as I take it,
If the good truth
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