Leon.
This sessions (to our great grief, we pronounce,)
Even pushes 'gainst our heart^{3 note}

: The party tried,
The daughter of a king; our wife; and one
Of us too much belov'd.—Let us be clear'd

Of being tyrannous, since we so openly
Proceed in justice: which shall have due course,
Even to the guilt, or the purgation^{4 note}

Offi.
It is his highness' pleasure, that the queen
Appear in person here in court.—Silence! Hermione is brought in guarded; Paulina and Ladies attending.

Leon.

Read the indictment.

Offi.

Hermione, queen to the worthy Leontes, king of Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned of high treason, in committing adultery with Polixenes, king of Bohemia; and conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord the king, thy royal husband: the pretence^{5 note} whereof being by circumstances 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.

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^{6 note}

Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it,
Be so receiv'd. But thus,—If powers divine
Behold our human actions, (as they do,)
I doubt not then, but innocence shall make
False accusation blush, and tyranny
Tremble at patience^{7 note}



.—You, my lord, best know,
(Who least^{8 note} will seem to do so,) my past life
Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
As I am now unhappy; which^{9 note} is more
Than history can pattern, though devis'd,
And play'd, to take spectators: For behold me,—
A fellow of the royal bed, which owe
A 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^{1 note}
As I weigh grief, which I would spare^{2 note}: for honour,
'Tis a derivative from me to mine^{3 note},

And only that I stand for. I appeal
To your own conscience^{4 note}
, sir, before Polixenes
Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
How merited to be so; since he came,
With what encounter so uncurrent I
Have strain'd, to appear thus^{5 note}

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, Fye 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^{6 note}

Her.
That's true enough;
Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.

Leon.
You will not own it.

Her.
More than mistress of,
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,
I lov'd him, as in honour he requir'd^{7 note}

;

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^{8 note}

Leon.
Your actions are my dreams;
You had a bastard by Polixenes,
And I but dream'd it:—As you were past all shame,
(Those of your fact are so,) so past all truth^{9 note}

Which to deny, concerns more than avails^{1 note}: for as
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^{2 note}

, 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^{3 note}

, 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^{4 note}

1 Lord.
This your request
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
The flatness of my misery^{6 note}