Leo.
Nor night, nor day, no rest; it is but weakness,
To bear the matter thus; mere weakness.
Who's there? Enter an Attendant.

Atten.
My lord.

Leo.
How does the boy?

Atten.
He took good rest, to-night; 'tis hop'd
His sickness is discharg'd.

Leo.
To see his nobleness!
Conceiving the dishonour of his mother,
He straight declin'd, droop'd, took it deeply,
Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on't in himself;
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
And down-right languish'd. Leave me; go,
See how he fares. Camillo and Polixenes
Laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow? Enter Paulina with a child.

Lord.
You must not enter.

Pau.
Nay rather, good my lords, be second to me:
Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas,
Than the queen's life? a gracious innocent soul,
More free than he is jealous.

Atten.
Madam, he hath not slept, to-night; commanded
None should come at him.

Pau.
Not so hot, good Sir,
I come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you
That creep like shadows by him, and do sigh

At each his needless heavings; such as you
Nourish the cause of his awaking. I
Do come with words medicinal, as true;
Honest as either, to purge him of that humour;
That presses him from sleep.

Leo.
What noise there, hoa?

Pau.
No noise, my lord, but needful conference,
About some gossips for your highness.

Leo.
How?
Away with that audacious lady. Antigonus,
I charg'd thee that she should not come about me.

Ant.
I told her so, my lord,
On your displeasure's peril and on mine,
She should not visit you.

Leo.
What! can'st not rule her?

Pau.
From all dishonesty he can; in this,
(Unless he take the course that you have done,
Commit me, for committing honour). trust it,
He shall not rule me.

Ant.
Lo' you now, you hear,
When she will take the rein I let her run;
But she'll not stumble.

Pau.
Good my liege, I come—
And I beseech you hear me, who profess
Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
Your most obedient counsellor: I say, I come
From your good queen.

Leo.
Good queen?

Pau.
Good queen, my lord?
Good queen, I say, good queen.
And would by combat make her good, so were I
A man, the worst about you

Leo.
Force her hence.

Pau.
Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes,
First hand me: on mine own accord I'll off;
But first, I'll do my errand. The good queen,
For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter,
Here 'tis; commends it to your blessing. [Laying down the child.

Leo.
Hence with her out o' door:
A most intelligencing bawd.

Pau.
Not so,
I am as ignorant in that as you,
In so intit'ling me; and no less honest
Than you are mad; which is enough, I'll warrant,
As this world goes, to pass for honest.

Leo.
Traitors!
Will you not push her out? give her the bastard, [To Ant.
Thou dotard, thou art woman-tir'd; unroosted
* ^noteBy thy dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard,
Take't up, I say, give't to thy croan.

Pau.
For ever
Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou
Tak'st up the princess', by that forced baseness
Which he has put upon't.

Leo.
A nest of traitors!

Ant.
I am none, by this good light.

Pau.
Nor I; nor any
But one that's here; and that's himself. For he,
The sacred honour of himself, his queen's,
His hopeful son's, his babe's betrays to slander,
Whose sting is sharper than the swords; and will not
(For as the case now stands, it is a curse
He cannot be compell'd to't) once remove
The root of his opinion, which is rotten,
As ever oak or stone was found.

Leo.
This brat is none of mine,
It is the issue of Polixenes.
Hence with it.

Pau.
It is yours;
And, might we lay th' old proverb to your charge,
So like you, 'tis the worse. Behold, my lords,
Altho' the print be little, the whole matter
And copy of the father; eye, nose, lip,
The trick of's frown, his forehead, nay the valley,
The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek, his smiles,

The very mold and frame of hand, nail, finger:
And thou good goddess nature, which
So like to him in feature, if thou hast
The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours
No yellow in't, lest she suspect, as he does,
Her children not her husband's* ^note.

Leo.† ^note
Lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd,
Thou wilt not stay her tongue.

Ant.
Hang all the husbands
That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself
Hardly one subject.

Leo.
Once more take her hence.
I'll ha' thee burnt.

Pau.
I care not;
It is an heretic that makes the fire,
Not she which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant;
But this most cruel usage of your queen,
(Not able to produce more accusation,
Than your own weak-hing'd fancy) something savours
Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you,
Yea scandalous to all the world.

Leo.
On your allegiance,
Out of the chamber with her. Were I a tyrant,
Where were her life? she durst not call me so,
If she did know me one. Away with her.

Pau.
I pray you do not drag me, I'll be gone.
Look to your babe, my lord, 'tis yours; Jove send her
A better guiding spirit. What need these hands?
You that are thus so tender o'er his follies,
Will never do him good, not one of you.
So, so: farewel, we are gone. [Exit.

Leo.
Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this?
My child? away with't. Even thou that hast
A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence,
And see it instantly consum'd with fire.

Ant.
We've always truly serv'd you, and beseech you

So to esteem of us: and on our knees we beg
(As recompence of our dear services
Past, and to come) that you do change this purpose,
Which being so horrible, so bloody, must
Lead on to some foul issue.

Leo.
I am a feather for each wind that blows:
Shall I live on to see this bastard kneel
And call me father? better burn it now,
Than curse it then. But be it; let it live:
It shall not neither. You Sir, come you hither; [To Antigonus.
You that have been so tenderly officious,
What will you adventure to save this brat's life?

Ant.
Any thing, my lord,
That my ability may undergo,
And nobleness impose: at least thus much;
I'll pawn the little blood which I have left,
To save the innocent; any thing possible.* ^note.

Leo.
It shall be possible; swear by this sword
Thou wilt perform my bidding.

Ant.
I will, my lord.

Leo.
Mark and perform it; seest thou? for the fail
Of any point in't shall not only be
Death to thyself, but to thy lewd-tongu'd wife,
Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee,
As thou art liege-man to us, that thou carry
This female bastard hence, and that thou bear it
To some remote and desart place, quite out
Of our dominions; and that there thou leave it,
To its own protection and favour of the climate.
Take it up.

Ant.
I swear to do this: tho' a present death
Had been more merciful. Come on, poor babe.
Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens
To be thy nurses. Wolves and bears, they say,
(Casting their savageness aside) have done
Like offices of pity. Sir, be prosperous

In more than this deed does require; and blessing,
Against this cruelty, fight on thy side,
Poor thing condemn'd to loss. [Exit with the child.

Leo.
No; I'll not rear
Another's issue. Enter a Messenger.

Mes.
Please your highness, posts
From those you sent to th' oracle, are come,
An hour since. Cleomines and Dion
Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed,
Hasting to th' court.

Lord.
So please you, Sir, their speed
Hath been beyond account.

Leo.
This good speed foretels
The great Apollo suddenly will have
The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords;
Summon a session, that we may arraign
Our most disloyal lady; for as she hath
Been publicly accus'd, so shall she have
A just and open trial. [Exeunt. ^note End of the Second ACT.

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