Leontes, King of 'Sicilia.

Mamillius, his Son.
Camillo, "J

Antinomy ( sicilian Lords.

ACT I.

SCENE I.—Sicilia. An Antechamber in Leontes

Palace.

Enter Camillo and Archidamus.

Arch. If you shall chance. Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia.

Cam. I think, this coming summer, the king of; Sicilia meansto pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.

Arch. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us. we will be justified in our loves; for, indeed,—

Cam. Beseech you,—

A rch. Verily, I speak it in th e freedom of ray knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence—in so rare —I linow not what to say.—We will give you sleepy drinks, that your senses, unintelligent of our insumcience, may. though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us. fgiven freely.

Cam. You pay a great deal too dear for what's

Arch. Believe mc, I speak as my understanding instructs me. and as mine honesty puts it to utterance.

Cam. Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to Bohemia. They were trained together in their childhoods; and there rooted betwixt them then such an affection, which cannot choose but branch now. Since their more mature dignities and royal necessities made separation of their society, their encounters, though not personal, have been royalty attorneyed, with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies; that thej have seemed to be together though absent; shook hands, as over a vast; and embraced, as it were, from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continue their lovesJ

Arch. I think there is not in the world either malice ,or matter to alter it. You have an uns;>eakab!e comfort of your young prince Mamillius r it is a gentleman of the greatest promise that ever came into my note.

Cam. I very well agree with you in the hopes of I him: it is a gallant child; one that, indeed, physics the subject, makes old hearts fresh: they that went on crutches ere he was born, desire yet their life to see him a man.

Arch. Would they else be content to diet

Cam. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they should desire to live.

Arch. If the king had no son, they w»uld desire to Bve on crutches till lie had one. ll-xeunt.

SCENE II.—Sicilia. A Room of State in the Palace.

Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Hermione. Mamillius, Camillo, and Attendants.

Pol. Nine changes of the wat ry star have been The shepherd's note, since we have left our throne Without a burden: time .is long again Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks; And yet we should, for perpetuity. Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher. Yet standing m rich place, I multiply With one we-thank-you many thousands more That go before it.

Leon. Stay your thanks awhile.

And pay them when you part

Pol. Sir, that's to-morrow,

am question'd by my fears, of what may chance, Or breed upon our absence, that may blow No sneaping winds at home, to make us say, "This tsptttforth too truly." Besides, I have stay "d To tire your royalty.

Leon. We are tougher, brother.

That you can put us to't.

Pol. No longer stay.

Leon. One seven-night longer.

Pol. Very sooth, to-morrow.

Leon. We'll part the time between's then: and in I'll no gain-saying. [that

Pol. Press me not, beseech you. so.

There is no tongue that moves, none, none i* the world,
So soon as yours could win me: so it should now.
Were there necessity in your request, although
'Twere needful I denied it. My affairs
Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder.
Were in your love a whip to me ; my stay
To you a charge and trouble: to save l>oth,
Farewell, our brother.

Leon. Tongue-tied our queen? speak you.

Her. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir. Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure All in Bohemia's well; this satisfaction The by-gone day proclaim'd: say this to him. He's beat from his best ward.

Leon. Well said. Hermione.

Her. To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong: But Jet him say so then, and let him go; But let him swear so, and he shall not stay. Well thwack him hence with distaffs.— [To Polixenes j Yet of your royal presence 111 advenTbe borrow of a week. When at Bohemia ftur«

You take my lord, IH (fire him my commission.
To let him there a month behind the gest
Prefix'd for his parting:—yet, good deed,
I love thee not a jar o the clock behind
What lady she her lord. YouH stay!

Pol. No, madam.

Her. Nay, but you will?

Pol. I may not, verily.

Her. Verily! You put me off with limber vows; but I, Though you would seek t' unsphere the stars with Should yet say. "Sir, no going. Verily, [oaths. You shall not go: a lady's verily is As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet? Force me to keep you as a prisoner, Net like a guest; so you shall pay your fees [you? When you depart, and save your thanks. How say My prisoner, or ray guest t by your dread verily. One of them you snail be.

Pol. Your guest.

To be your prisoner should import offending;
Which is for me less easy to commit.
Than you to punish.

Her. Not your gaoler, then.

But your kind hostess. Come, HI question you
Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys;
You were pretty lordlings then.

PoL We were, fair queen.

Two lads that thought there was no more behind,
But such a day to-morrow as to-day.
And to be boy eternal.

Her. Was not my lord the verier wag o' the two T

Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i* the sun.

And bleat the one at th' other: what we chang'd,
Was innocence lor innocence; we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd
That any did. Had we pitrsu'd that life,
And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd
With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven
Boldly, " fnotgititty ,-** the imposition clear'd.
Hereditary ours.

Her. By this we gather,

You have tripp'd since.

Pol. O, my most sacred lady,

Temptations have since then been born to us; for
In those unfiedg'd days was my wife a girl;
Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes
Of my young playfellow.

Her. Grace to boot I

Of this make no conclusion, lest you say
Your queen and I are devils: yet, go on;
Th' offences we have made you do, we'll answer;
If you first sinn'd with us, and that with us
You did continue fault, and that you slipp'd not
With any, btit with us,

Leon. Is he won yet?

Her. Hell stay, my lord.

Leon, At my request he would not

Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st
To better purpose.

Her. Never!

Leon. Never but once.

Her. What! have I twice said well? when was't before i

I pr'ythee tell me; cram us with praise, and make us
As fat as tame things: one good deed, dying tongue-
Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. [less,
Our praises are our wages : you may ride us
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs, ere
With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal:—
My last good deed was to entreat his stay:
Wliat was my first? it has an elder sister,
Or I mistake you : O, would her name were Grace I
But once before I spoke to the purpose: when T
Nay, let me hav't; I long.

Leon. Why, that was when

Three crabbed months had soured themselves to death,

Ere I could make thee open thy white hand. And clap thyself my love: then didst thou utter, "I am yours for ever."

Her. It Is Grace indeed.—

Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice:
The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;
Th' other tor some whi e a friend.

[Giving her hand to Polixenes.

Leon, \Aside.\ Too hot, too hot 1

To mingle friendship far, Is mingling bloods.

I have tremor cordis on me,—my heart dances;
But not for ioy,—not joy.—This entertainment
May a free face put on; derive a liberty
From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom.
And well become the agent ; it may. I grant:
But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers.
As now they are ; and making practis d smiles.
As in a looking-glass; and then to sigh, as 'twere
The utort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows—Mamillius,
Art thou my boy?

Mam. Ay, my good lord.

Leon. I* fecks?

Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast sinutch'd thy nose?—

They say, it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain.
We must be neat ;—not neat, but cleanly, captain;
And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,
Are all call'd neat—{Observing Pol. and Her.] Still
virg mailing

Upon his palm?—How now, you wanton calf I
Art thou my calf?
Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord.

Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash, and the s
that I have.
To be full like me :—yet they say we are
Almost as like as eggs; women say so.
That will say anything: but were tliey false'
As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters,—false
As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes

Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain!
Most dear'st: my collop I—Can thy dam ?—may't be^-
Affection, thy intention stabs the centre;
Thou dost make possible, things not so held,
Communicat'st with dreams;—(how can this be?)—
With what's unreal thou coactive art,
And fellow'st nothing: then, 'tis very credent.
Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou dost;
(And that beyond commission ; and I find it.)
And that to the infection of my brains.
And hardening of my brows.
Pol. What means Stcilia f

Her. He something seems unsettled.
Pol. How, my lord t

What cheer? how is *t with you, best brother?

Her. You look

As if you held a brow of much distraction:
Are you mov'd, my lord?

Leon. No, in good earnest.—

[Aside.] How sometimes nature will betray its folly.
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
To harder bosoms 1—I To her.] Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methought 1 did recoil
Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd.
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled.
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove.
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous:
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel.
This squash, this gentleman.—Mine honest friend*
Will you take eggs for money?
Mam. No, iny lord, I'll fight

Leon. Yon will? why, happy man be his dole I—
My brother,
Are you so fond of your young prince, as we
Do seem to be of ours?

Pot. If at home, sir,

He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter:
Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy;
My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all:
He makes a July's day short as December;
And with his varying childness cures in me
Thoughts that would thick my blood.

Leon. So stands this squire

Uffic'd with me: we too will walk, iny lord,
And leave you to your graver steps.—Hermione,
How thou lov'st us, show in our brother's welcome;
Let what is dear in Sicily, be cheap:
Next to thyself and my young rover, he*s
Apparent to my heart.

Her. If you would seek us.

We are yours i* the garden: shall "s attend you there?

Leon. To your own bents dispose you: youH be found.

Be you beneath the sky.—f Aside.} I am angling now, Though you perceive me not how I give line.

Go to, go to i \Observing Polixenes and Hormlone,
How she holds up the neb, the bill to him;
And arms her with the boldness of a wife
To her allowing husband 1 Gone already I

[Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione, and Attendants. Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd one I—

Co play, boy, piay:—thy mother plays, and I
Play too; but so disgrae'd a part, whose issue
"Will hiss ine to iny grave: contempt and clamour
Will be my knell.—Go play, boy, play —There have
Or i am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now; [been,
And many a man there is even at this present.
Now while I speak this, holds his wife by th* arm.
That little thinks she has been sluie'd in's absence,
And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by
Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't.
Whiles other men have gates, and those gates open'd.
As mine, against their will: should all despair.
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
Would hang themselves. Physic for't, there is none;
It is a bawdy pl-uiet, that will strike
Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it.
From east, west, north, and south: be it concluded,
No barricado for a belly; know it;
It will let in and out the enemy.
With bag and baggage: many a thousand of us
Have the disease, and feel't not.—How now, boyl

Mam. I am like you, they say.

Leon. Why. that's some comfort.

What, CamiUo there T

Cam. Ay, my good lord*

Leon. Go play, Mamillius; thou 'rt an honest man.— [ Exit Mamillius. CamiUo, this great Sir will yet stay longer.

Cant. You had much ado to make his anchor hold: When you cast out, it still came home.

Leon. Didst note itt

Cam He would not stay at your petitions; made His business more material.

Leon. Didst perceive it T—

\Aside.\ They're here with me already; whispering, "SicQia is a so-forth ," 'tis far gone, [rounding, When I shall gust it last.—How came't, Camillo, That he did stay?

Cam. At the good queen's entreaty.

Leon. At the queen's, be't: good should be pertiBut so it is, it is not. Was this.taken [nent;

By any understanding pate but thine?
For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
More than the common blocks:—not noted, is*t,
But of the finer natures? by some severals
Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes,
Perchance, are tn this business purblind? say.

Cam. Business, my lord! I think, most understand Bohemia stays here longer.

Leon. Ha?

Cam. Stays here longer.

Leon. Ay, but why?

Cam. To satisfy your highness, and the entreaties Of our most gracious mistress.

Leon. Satisfy
The entreaties of your mistress I—satisfy I—
Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,
With all the things nearest to my heart, as well
My chamber-councils; wherein, priest-like, thou
Hast cleans'd my bosom; I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been
Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd
In that which seems so.

Cam. Be it forbid, my lord I

Leon. To bide upon't; thou art not honest; or, If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward, Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining From course requir'd; or else thou must be counted A servant grafted in my serious trust. And therein negligent; or else a fool. That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn. And tak'st it all for jest.

Cam. My gracious lord,

I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful;
In every one of these no man is free.
But that his negligence, his folly, fear.
Among the infinite doings of the world.
Sometime puts forth: in your affairs, my lordi
If ever I were wilful-negligent.
It was my folly; if industriously
I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,

Not weighing well the end t If ever fearful

To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,

Whereof the execution did cry out

Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear .

Which oft infects the wisest: these, my lord.

Are such allow'd infirmities, that honesty

Is nevur free of. But, beseech your grace.

Be plainer with me: let me know my trespass

By its own visage: if I then deny it,

Tis none of mine.

Leon. Have not you seen, Camillo,

(But that's past doubt; you have; or your eye-glass
Is thicker than a cuckhold's horn,) or heard,
(For, to a vision so apparent, rumour
Cannot be mute,) or thought, (for cogitation'
Resides not in that man that does not think,)
My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess,
(Or else be impudently negative,
To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought), then say
My wife's a hobbyhorse; deserves a name
As rank as any flax wench that puts to
Before her troth-plight: say it. and justify it.

Cam. 1 would not be a stander-by, to hear
My sovereign mistress clouded so, without
My present vengeance taken: 'shrew my heart,
You never spoke what did become you less
Than this; which to reiterate, were sin
As deep as that, though true.

Leon. Is whispering nothing!

Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses!
Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career
Of laughter with a sigh! (a note infallible
Of breaking honesty) horsing foot on foot!
Skulking In corners? wishing clocks more swift?
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes blind
With the pin and web, but theirs, theirs only.
That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing?
Why, then the world, and all that's in *t is nothing;
The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing;
My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings,
If this be nothing.

Cam. Good my lord, be cur'd

Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes;
For 'tis most dangerous.

Leon. Say it be, *tis true.

Cam. No, no, my lord.

Leon. It is; you lie, you lie:

I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee;
Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave;
Or else a hovering temporizer, that
Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
Inclining to them both: were my wife's liver
Infectedas her life, she would not live
The running of one glass.

Cam. Who does infect her?

Leon. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hangAbout his neck, Bohemia: who—if I [iag Had servants true about me that bare eyes To see alike mine honour as their profits. Their own particular thrifts,—they would do that Which should undo more doing: ay, and thou, His cup-bearer,—whom I from meaner form Have bench'd and rear'd to worship; who mayst see Plainly, as heaven sees earth, and earth sees heaven. How f atn galled,—mightst bespice a cup, To give mine enemy a lasting wink; Which draught to me were cordiaL

Cam. Sir, my lord,

I could do this, anil that with no rash potion.
But with a lingering drain, that should not work
Maliciously, like poison: but I cannot
Believe this crack to l>e in my dread mistress.
So sovereignly being honourable.
I have lov'd thee,—

Leon. Make that thy question, and go rot I

Dost think I am so mi|ddy, so unsettled.
To appoint myself in this vexation; sully
The purity and whiteness of my sheets,
Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted,
is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps?
Give scandal to the blood o' the prince, my son.
Who, I do think is mine, and love as mine.
Without ripe moving to *t ?—Would 1 do this?
Could man so blench?

Cam. I must believe you, sir:

I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for "t;
Provided, that when he's remov'd, your highness
Will take again your queen, as yours at first.

Even for your son's sake; and, thereby, for sealing1 The injury of tongues, in courts and kingdoms Known and allied to yours.

Leon. Thou dost advise me,

Even so as I mine own course have set down:
I'll give no blemish to her honour, none..

Cam, My lord.
Go then ; and with a countenance as clear
As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia,
And with your que on, I am his cupbearer:
If froai me he have wholesome beverage.
Account me not your servant.

Leon. This is all:

Do't, and thou hast the one half of my heart;
X>o t not, thou split'st thine own.

Cam I'll do't, my lord.

Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd me.

[Exit.

Cam. O miserable lady!—But, for me, "What case stand I in T I must be the poisoner Of good Potixenes: and my ground to do't Is the obedience to a master; one. Who, in rebellion with himself, will have All that are his, so too.—To do this deed. Promotion follows: if 1 could find example Of thousands that had struck anointed kings. And flourished after, I'd not do't; but since Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not one, Let villainy itself forswear't. I must Forsake the court: to do't, or no, is certain To me a break-neck. Happy star, reign now I Here comes Bohemia.

Enter Polixenes. 'Pol. This is strange : methinks

My favour here begins to warp. Not speak ?—
Good-day, Camillo.

Cam. Hail, most royal sir!

Pot. What is the news i' the court!

Cam. None rare, my lord.

Pol. The king hath on him such a countenance,
As he had lost some province, and a region
Lov'd as he loves himself: even now I met hiin
With customary compliment; when he.
Wafting his eyes to the contrary, and falling
A lip of much contempt, speeds from me ; and
So leaves me to consider what is breeding
That changes thus his manners.

Cam. I dare not know, my lord.

Pol. Howl dare not? do not. Do you know, and dare not

Be intelligent to me? 'Tis thereabouts;
For, to yourself, what you do know, you must.
And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo.
Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror
Which shows ine mine chang'd too; for, I must be
A party to this alteration, finding
Myself thus alter'd with "t.

Cam. There is a sickness

Which puts some of us in distemper; but
"cannot name the disease; and it is caught
Of you, that yet are well.

Pol. Howl caught of ine I
Make me not sighted like the basilisk:
I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better
By iny regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo,—
As you are certainly a gentleman; thereto
Clerk-like, experiene'd. which no less adorns
Our gentry than our parents' noble names.
In whose success we are gentle,—I beseech you.
If you know aught which docs behove my knowledge
Thereof to be inforiu'd. imprison it not
In ignorant concealment.

Cam. I may not answer.

Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well I I must be answer'd.—Dost thou hear, Camillo, I cinjure thee, by all the parts of man Which honour <ioes acknowledge,—whereof the least Is not this suit of mine,—that thou declare What incidency thou dost guess of harm Is creeping toward me ; how far off, how near; Which way to be prevented, if to be; If not, how best to bear it.

Cam. Sir, I will tell you;

Since J am charg'd in honour, and by him
That 1 think honourable: therefore mark my
Which must be even as swiftly followM, as
I mean to utter it. or both yourself and me
Cry, "lost," and so good-night.

Pol. On, good C

Cam. 1 am appointed him to murder you.

Pol. By whom, Camillo r

Cam. By the king.

Pot. For what?

Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he sweats* As he had seen't, or been an instrument To vice you to't, that you have touch'dhis queen Forbiddenly.

Pot. O. then my best blood turn

To an infected jelly, and my name
Be yok'd with his that did betray the Best I
Turn then my freshest reputation to
A savour, that may strike the dullest nostril
Where I arrive; and my approach be shunn'd.
Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection
That e'er was heard, or read 1

Cam. Swear his thought oyer

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 pil'd upon his faith, and will continue
The standing of his body.

Pol. How should this grow?

Cam. 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 iinpawn'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 j
For, by the honour of my parents, I
Have utter'd truth; which, if you seek to prove,
[ dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer
Than one condemned by the king's own mouth,
Thereon his execution sworn.

Pol. I do believe thee.

I saw his heart in his face. Give mc thy hand:
Be pilot to me, and thy places shall
Still neighbour mine. My ships arc 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 dishonoured by a man which ever
Profess'tl to htm, why, his revenges must
In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me
Good expedition be iny 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.

Cam. It is in mine authority to command
The keys of all the posterns: please your highness
To take the urgent hour: come, sir, away I

[Exeunt

. ACT II.

SCENE I.—Sicilia. A Room in the Palace. Enter Hcrmione, Mamillius, and Ladies. Her. Take the 'boy to you: he so troubles me, 'Tis past enduring.

i Lady, Come, my gracious lord.

Shall I be your playfellow?
Mam. No, I'll none of you.

1 Lady. Why, my sweet lord T

Mam. You'll kiss me hard; and speak to ine as if I were a baby still.—I love you better.

2 Lady. And why so, my lord?

Main. 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 semi-circle.
Or a half-moon made with a pen.

s Lady. Who taught you this?

Mam. I learn'd It out of women's faces,—" now,

What colour are your eyebrows?
i Lady. Blue, my lord.

I am for you again: pray you, sit by us,
And tell s a tale.

Mam. Merry, or sad, shall't bet

Her. As merry as you will.

Mum. 'A sad tale's best for winter.

I have one of sprites and goblins.

Her. 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.

Mam, There was a num.—

Her. Nay, coine, sit down; then on.

Mam. Dwelt by a churchyard:—I will tell it softly; Yond crickets shall not hear it.

Her. Come on, then.

And give *t me in mine ear.

Enter Leontes, Autigonus. Lords, and Guards. Leon. Was he met there? his trainT Caiuillo with him I

1 Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met tUem; never Saw I men scour so on their way: I ey'd them Even to their ships.

Leon. How bless'd am I

In my just censure, in my true opinion !—
Alack, for lesser knowledge 1 How accurs'd
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:—1 have drunk, and seen the spider
C.Linillo was his help in this, his pander:—
Then is a plot against my life, iny 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 thine; yea, a very trick
For them to play at will.—How came the posterns
So easily open?

1 Lord. By his great authority;

Which often hath no less prevail'd than so,
O.i your command.

Leon. I know't too well.—

[ To Hermione. 1 Give me the boy: 1 am glad you did

not nurse him: Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you Have too much blood in him.

Her. What is this? sport?

Leon. Bear the boy hence; he shall not come n!x>u her;

Away with him !—[Exit Mamillius, attended. ] and le

her sport herself With that she's big with; for 'tis Polixenes Has made thee swell thus.

Her. But I'd say he had not;

A nd I'll be swom you would believe my saying, 1 lowe'er you lean to the nayward.

Leon. You, my lords,

Look on her, mark her well; he but about
To say, "she is a goodly lady," and
The justice of your hearts 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, I andstralgh'
The shrug, the hum, or ha, these petty brands
That calumny doth use.—O, I tan out,—
That mercy does; fur calumny will sear
Virtue itself—these shrugs, these hums and h.i's,
When you have said " she's goodly,' come between,
Ere you can say '* she's hones::" hut be t known,
From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,
She's an adult "ress.

Her. 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.

Leon. You have mistook, my lady,

PolixenM 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 l>eggar I—I have said
She's an aduit'ress; 1 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 bod-swerver, even as bad as those
That vulgars give boldest titles; ay, and privy
To this their late escape.

Her. No, by iny 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 1 Gentle my lord,
Vou scarce can nght me throughly then, to say
You did mistake.

Leon. No; if I mistake

In those foundations which 1 build upon,
The centre is not big enough to bear
A schoolboy's top.—Away with her to prison.
He who shall speak for her, is afar oil guilty.
But that he speaks

Her. There's some ill planet reigns:

I must be patient till the heavens look
With an aspect more favourable.—Good iny 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 lodg'd here, which bums
Worse than tears drown: beseech you all, my lords*
With thoughts so qualified as your charities
Shalt best instruct you, measure ine ;•—and so,
The king's will be perfonn'd I
Leon. ( To the Guards. \ Shall I be heard?
Her. 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 mis-
Has deserv'd prison, then alxiund in tears [tress
As 1 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.
Leon. Go, do our bidding; hence 1

{Exeunt Queen and Ladies with Guards,
r Lord. Beseech your highness* call the queen a^ain.
Ant. Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice
Prove violence: in the which three great ones suffer,—
Yourself, your queen, your Soil

1 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,
!u this which you accuse her.

Ant. If it prove

She's otherwise, 111 keep my stables where
I lodge my wife , 1 11 go in couples with her;
Then, when I feel ana see her, no farther trust her:
For every inch of woimn in the world,
\y, every drain of woman's flesh, is false,
If she be.
Leon. Hold your peaces 1
1 Lord. Good, my lord,—

Ant. It is for you we speak, not for ourselves: You are ahus'd, and by some putter-on, ritat will be damu'd for't; would I knew the villain, ; would land-damn him. Be she houour-flaw'd,— have three daughters; the eldest is eleven; The second and the third, nine and some five; f this prove true, they'll pay for't: by mine honour,

Id tht

ToTiring false generations: they arc co-he Uid I had rather glib myself, than they ihould not produce fair issue.

Leon. Cease ; no more,

t'on smell this business with a sense as cold \s is a dead man's nose: but 1 do see't and feel't, \s you feel doing thus, and see withal I'he instruments that feel.

Ant. 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.
Leon. What I lack I creditt