That any of these bolder vices wanted

Less impudence to gainsay what they did,
Than to perform it first.

Her...

Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.

That's true enough;

More than mistress of,

Leon. You will not own it.

Her.

Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,
(With whom I am accus'd,) I do confess,
Ì lov'd him, as in honour he requir'd;
With such a kind of love, as might become
A lady like me; with a love, even such,
So, and no other, as yourself commanded:
Which not to have done, I think, had been in me
Both disobedience and ingratitude,

To you, and toward your friend; whose love had spoke,

Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely,
That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy,

I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd
For me to try how: all I know of it

Is, that Camillo was an honest man;

And, why he left your court, the gods themselves, Wotting no more than I, are ignorant.

Leon. You knew of his departure, as you know What you have underta'en to do in his absence. Her. Sir,

You speak a language that I understand not:
My life stands in the level of your dreams,
Which I'll lay down.

Your actions are my dreams;

Leon.
You had a bastard by Polixenes,

And I but dream'd it: -

4

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

3 Is within the reach.

4 They who have donc like you,

Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself,
No father owning it, (which is, indeed,
More criminal in thee, than it,) so thou
Shalt feel our justice; in whose easiest passage,
Look for no less than death.

Her.
Sir, spare your threats;
The bug, which you would fright me with, I seek.
To me can life be no commodity:

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,
Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast
The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth,
Haled out to murder: Myself on every post
Proclaim'd a strumpet; With immodest hatred,
The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs
To women of all fashion:- Lastly, hurried
Here to this place, i'the open air, before
I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,
Tell me what blessings I have here alive,
That I should fear to die? Therefore, proceed.
But yet hear this; mistake me not;
No! life,
I prize it not a straw: but for mine honour,
(Which I would free,) if I shall be condemn'd
Upon surmises; all proofs sleeping else,
But what your jealousies awake; I tell you,
'Tis rigour, and not law.
I do refer me to the oracle
Apollo be my judge.

1 Lord.

Your honours all,

This your request

Is altogether just therefore, bring forth,
And in Apollo's name, his oracle.

[Exeunt certain Officers.

si. e. The degree of strength which it is customary to acquire before women are suffered to go abroad after childbearing.

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.

Off. You here shall swear upon this sword of justice,

That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have

Been both at Delphos; and from thence have brought
This seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd
Of great Apollo's priest: and that, since then,
You have not dar'd 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!

Ay, my lord; even so

Leon. There is no truth at all i'the oracle:

The sessions shall proceed; this is mere falsehood.

Enter a Şervant, 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

Of the queen's speed, is gone.

6 of the event of the queen's trial.

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'ercharg'd; she will recover.
I have too much believ'd 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! I'll reconcile me to Polixenes;

New woo my queen; recall the good Camillo;
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy:
For, being transported by my jealousies
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose
Camillo for the minister, to poison

My friend Polixenes: which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
My swift command, though I with death, and with
Reward, did threaten and encourage him,

Not doing it, and being done: he, most humane,
And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest
Unclasp'd my practice; quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great; and to the certain hazard
Of all incertainties himself commended,

No richer than his honour: How he glisters
Thorough my rust! and how his piety
Does my deeds make the blacker!

Paul.

Re-enter PAULINA,

Woe the while!

O, cut my lace; lest my heart, cracking it,

Break too!.....

1 Lord. What fit is this, good lady?

Paul. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for

me?

What wheels? racks? fires? What flaying? boiling,
In leads, or oils? what old, or newer torture
Must I receive; whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny
Together working with thy jealousies, -

Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine! O, think, what they have done,
And then run mad, indeed; stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing;
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant,
And horribly ungrateful: nor was't much,
Thou would'st have poison'd good Camillo's honour,
To have him kill a king; poor trespasses,
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter.
Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death

Of the young prince; whose honourable thoughts
(Thoughts high for one so tender,) cleft the heart
That could conceive, a gross and foolish sire
Blemish'd his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer: But the last, — O, lords,
When I have said, cry, woe!-the queen, the queen,
The sweetest, dearest, creature's dead; and ven-
geance for't

Not dropp'd down yet.

1 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
As I would do the gods. But, O thou tyrant!
Do not repent these things; for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can stir: therefore betake thee
To nothing but despair. A thousand knees