At the upper End, a Throne; Lords, on either Hand, Judges, and other Officers, seated; People attending. Enter Leontes, and Train of Lords, to his Throne.

Leo.
This session ^note (To our great grief, we pronounce)
Even pushes 'gainst our heart: The party try'd,
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.—
Produce the prisoner.

Off.
It is his highness' pleasure, that the queen
Appear in person here in court. Enter Hermione, to the Bar: Paulina, and Ladies, with her; Officers preceding.

Leo.

Read the indictment.

Cri.

Silence!14Q0463

Off. [reads.]

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 whereof being by circumstances ^note partly lay'd 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,
Being counted falshood, 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 ^note blush, and tyranny
Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know,
(Who least ^note will seem to do so) my past life
Hath been as continent, as chast, as true,
As I am now unhappy; which 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
As I weigh grief, which I would spare: for honour,
'Tis a derivative from me to mine,
And only that I stand for, I appeal
To your own conscience, 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 have
I ^note strain'd, to appear thus? if one jot beyond
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!

Leo.
I ne'er heard yet,
That any of these bolder vices wanted

Less impudence to gain-say what they did,
Than to perform it first.

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

Leo.
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;
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; ^note 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 tasts; 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.

Leo.
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.

Leo.
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:

To ^note deny, concerns, more than avails14Q0464: 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 we with ^note, 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 bar'd, like one infectious: My third comfort,
Star'd most unluckily, is from my breast,
The innocent milk in it's most innocent mouth,
Hal'd out to murther: Myself on every post
Proclaim'd a strumpet, with immodest hatred;
The child-bed priviledge deny'd, which 'longs
To women of all fashion; lastly, hurry'd
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 dye? Therefore, proceed.
But yet hear this; mistake me not;—No life;
I prize it not a straw: but for ^note mine honour,
(Which I would free) if I shall be condemn'd
Upon surmizes; 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.

1. L.
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; yet with eyes
Of pity, not revenge! Re-enter Officers, with Cleomenes, and Dion, bringing in the Oracle.

Off.
You here shall swear upon this † sword ^note 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.

Cle. Dio.

All this we swear.

Leo.

Break up the seals, and read.

Off. [reads.]

Hermione is chast, ^note 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.

Lor.
Now blessed be the great Apollo!

Her.
Praised!

Leo.
Hast thou read truth?

Off.
Ay, my lord; even so
As it is here set down.

Leo.
There is no truth at all i'the oracle:
The sessions shall proceed; this is meer falshood.

Enter a Gentleman, hastily.

Gen.
My lord the king, the king!

Leo.
What is the business?

Gen.
O, sir, I shall be hated to report it:
The prince your son, with meer conceit and fear
Of the queen's speed, is gone.

Leo.
How! gone?

Gen.
Is dead.

Leo.
Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves
Do strike at my injustice.—[Her. faints.] How now there?

Pau.
This news is mortal to the queen:—Look down,
And see what death is doing.

Leo.
Take her hence:
Her heart, is but o'er-charg'd; she will recover.— [Her. is born off; Pau. and Ladies follow her.
I have too much believ'd mine own suspicion:—
'Beseech you, tenderly, apply to her
Some remedies for life.—Apollo, pardon
My great prophaneness '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 tardy'd
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 ^note hazard
Of all incertainties himself commended,
No richer than his honour:—How he glisters
Through my dark ^note rust! and how his piety
Does my deeds make the blacker! Re-enter Paulina, hastily.

Pau.
Woe the while!
O, cut my lace; lest my heart, cracking it,
Break too!

1. L.
What fit is this, good lady?

Pau.
What study'd torments,14Q0465 tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels? racks? fires? What flaying, rather? boiling ^note
In leads, or oils? what old, or newer, torture ^note
Must I receive; whose every ^note 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 ^note.
That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing;
That did but shew thee, of a fool, inconstant,
And damnable ingrateful: 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 ^note daughter
To be or none, or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire, ere don't:
Nor is't directly lay'd 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,
Lay'd to thy answer: But the last,—O, lords,
When I have said, cry, woe!—the queen, the queen,
The sweet'st, dear'st, creature's dead; and vengeance for't
Not dropt down yet.

1. L.
The higher powers forbid!

Pau.
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,
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren mountain, and still winter
In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
To look that way thou wert.

Leo.
Go on, go on:
Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserv'd
All tongues to talk their bitt'rest.

1. L.
Say no more;
Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault
I'the boldness of your speech.

Pau.
I am sorry for't;
All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
I do repent: Alas, I have shew'd too much
The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd
To the noble heart.—What's gone, and what's past help,
Should be past grief: Do not receive affliction
At my petition, I beseech you; rather

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:
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,
Who is lost too: take you your patience to you,
And I'll say nothing.

Leo.
Thou did'st speak but well,
When most the truth; which I receive much better,
Than to be pity'd of thee. Pr'ythee, 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
Our shame perpetual: Once a day, I'll visit
The chapel where they lye; 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
To these my sorrows. Exeunt.

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