Enter Leontes, Lords,
and Officers.
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
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Of being tyrannous, since we so openly
Proceed in justice, which shall have due course,
Even to the guilt or the purgation.
Produce the prisoner.
Off. It is his highness' pleasure that the queen
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Appear in person here in court.
Silence!
Enter Hermione guarded;
Paulina and Ladies
attending.
Leon. Read the indictment.
Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned of high treason, in committing
adultery with Polixenes, king of Bohemia, and conspiring
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with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord the king,
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.
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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
To say 'not guilty:' mine integrity
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Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it,
Be so received. But thus, if powers divine
Behold our human actions, as they do,
I doubt not then but innocence shall make
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Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know,
Who least will seem to do so, my past life
Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
As I am now unhappy; which is more
Than history can pattern, though devised
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And play'd to take spectators. For behold me
A fellow of the royal bed, which
oweA moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter,
The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing
To
prate and talk for life and honour 'fore
Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it
'Tis a derivative from me to mine,
And only that I stand for. I appeal
To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes
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Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
How merited to be so; since he came,
With what encounter so uncurrent I
The
bound of honour, or in act or will
That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts
Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin
Cry fie upon my grave!
Leon. I ne'er heard yet
That any of
these bolder vices wanted
Less impudence to gainsay what they did
Than to perform it first.
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Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.
Leon. You will not own it.
Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,
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With whom I am accused, I do confess
I loved him as in honour he required,
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:
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Which not to have done I think had been in me
Both disobedience and ingratitude
Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely
That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy,
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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.
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Leon. You knew of his departure, as you
know
What you have underta'en to do in's 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.
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Leon. Your actions are my dreams;
You had a bastard by Polixenes,
And I but dream'd it. As you were past all shame,—
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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:
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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
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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
it most innocent mouth,
Haled out to murder: myself on every post
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Proclaimed 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
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Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else
But what your jealousies awake, I tell you
'Tis rigour and not law. Your honours all,
I do refer me to the oracle:
Apollo be my judge!
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Is altogether just: therefore bring forth,
And in Apollo's name, his oracle.
[Exeunt certain Officers.
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
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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
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This seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd
Of great Apollo's priest and that since then
You have not dared to break the holy seal
Nor read the secrets in't.
Cleo. Dion. All this we swear.
Leon. Break up the seals and read.
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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!
Leon. Hast thou read truth?
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Off. Ay, my lord; even so
Leon. There is no
truth at all i' the oracle:
The
sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood.
Serv. My lord the king, the king!
Leon. What is the business?
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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.
Leon. Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves
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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'ercharged; she will recover:
I have too much believed mine own suspicion:
Beseech you, tenderly apply to her
[
Exeunt Paulina and Ladies, with Hermione.Apollo, pardon
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;
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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
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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,
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Of all incertainties himself commended,
No richer than his honour: how he glisters
Paul. Woe the while!
O, cut my lace,
lest my heart, cracking it,
Break too!
Paul. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
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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
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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;
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Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's honour,
To have him kill a king; poor trespasses,
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
To be or none or little; though a devil
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Would have shed water out of fire ere done't:
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
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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,
Not dropp'd down yet.
First Lord. The higher powers forbid!
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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!
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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
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren mountain, and still winter
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In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
To look that way thou wert.
Leon. Go on, go on:
Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved
All tongues to talk their bitterest.
First Lord. Say no more:
Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault
I' the boldness of your speech.
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Paul. I am sorry for't:
All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
I do repent. Alas!
I have show'd too much
The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd
To the noble heart. What's gone and what's past help
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Should be past grief: do not
receive affliction
Let me be punish'd, that have minded you
Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege,
Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman:
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The love I bore your queen, lo, fool again!
I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children;
I'll not remember you of my own lord,
And I'll say nothing.
Leon. Thou didst speak but well
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When most the truth; which I receive much better
Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me
To the dead bodies of my queen and son:
One grave shall be for both; upon them shall
The causes of their death appear, unto
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Our shame perpetual. Once a day I'll visit
The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there
Shall be my recreation: so long as nature
Will bear up with this exercise, so long
I daily vow to use it. Come and lead me
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