The Winter’s Tale

Shakespeare began his career in London as actor-dramatist in time to be denounced for his success by a rival playwright, the dying Robert Greene, in the autumn of 1592. Some eighteen years later, Greene’s popular romance, Pandosto, or The Triumph of Time (1587) supplied Shakespeare with the plot of The Winter’s Tale, while the roguery of Autolycus (among Shakespeare’s main additions to the story) drew on anecdotes from Greene’s popular pamphlets about the London underworld of the 1580s and 1590s. Shakespeare wrote The Winter’s Tale and Cymbeline about 1609–10, perhaps during a lengthy closure of the theatres caused by the plague. No consensus exists about which came first, and both were seen at the Globe in the spring of 1611 by Simon Forman, whose notes surprisingly make reference neither to the bear that pursues Antigonus nor to the final scene of Hermione’s resurrection.

In the First Folio The Winter’s Tale appears as the last of the fourteen comedies, Cymbeline as the last of the tragedies (and so the last play in the book). Both are now commonly referred to as romances, or late plays, and attempts have been made to associate them with Jacobean politics and with the royal family. What is certain is that their tragicomic actions, like that of Pericles, make nostalgic reference to the romantic plays of the 1570s and 1580s derided by Sidney in his Defence of Poetry as ‘mongrel tragicomedy’.

A winter’s tale was the sort of story told round the fire to while away a long winter evening, hence simply an implausible romantic or fairytale fiction. The passage of time, human and seasonal, destructive and restorative, is among the major motifs of the play, whose cast includes characters of all ages from a newborn baby to a man of eighty. In The Winter’s Tale Shakespeare simultaneously asserts the implausible conventionality of his story and invests it with a poetic and emotional power that transcends convention. The jealous Leontes may recall Othello, but the violence and irrational suddenness of passion launch the action at a high pitch of tension. Time, as chorus, divides the play into balancing and antithetical halves when he turns his hourglass exactly in the middle of his speech. The sixteen-year gap in time between acts 3 and 4, more sharply defined than the fourteen years in the middle of Pericles, reflects the passage the human seasons from the winter guilt and sadness Leontes’ court to the springtime innocence of his lost daughter Perdita and her lover Florizel. As in The Comedy of Errors and Pericles, the family reunion (promised by the oracle of Apollo) is capped by the reappearance of the supposedly dead mother, with the difference that this time the audience too have been persuaded of her death. The first half of the play ends with the pursuit of Antigonus by a bear, the second with the descent of the statue of Hermione from its plinth to reunited with husband and daughter. Both are Shakespeare’s additions to Greene’s story, as is Paulina, the agent Hermione’s survival and the penitence of Leontes.

The Winter’s Tale has had a long and successful stage

history. An influential twentieth-century production was that by Harley Granville Barker at the Savoy Theatre London in 1912, which restored the full text and simplified the setting in the interests of pace and clarity of performance. Today The Winter’s Tale is, after The Tempest, the most frequently revived of the romances.

The Arden text is based on the 1623 First Folio.

LIST OF ROLES

LEONTES		King of Sicilia
MAMILLIUS		young Prince of Sicilia
		four lords of Sicilia
POLIXENES		King of Bohemia
FLORIZEL		Prince of Bohemia
ARCHIDAMUS		a lord of Bohemia
Old SHEPHERD		reputed father of Perdita
CLOWN		his son
AUTOLYCUS		a rogue
MARINER
GAOLER
HERMIONE		Queen to Leontes
PERDITA		daughter to Leontes and Hermione
PAULINA		wife to Antigonus
EMILIA		a lady attending on Hermione
		shepherdesses
Other Lords and Gentlemen, Ladies, Officers, and Servants, Shepherds and Shepherdesses TIME, as Chorus

The Winter’s Tale

1.1 Enter CAMILLO and ARCHIDAMUS.

ARCHIDAMUS     If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit
Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my services are
now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great
difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia.
CAMILLO     I think, this coming summer, the King of	5
Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he
justly owes him.
ARCHIDAMUS     Wherein our entertainment shall shame
us: we will be justified in our loves: for indeed –
CAMILLO     Beseech you –	10
ARCHIDAMUS     Verily I speak it in the freedom of my
knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence – in so
rare – I know not what to say – We will give you sleepy
drinks, that your senses (unintelligent of our
insufficience) may, though they cannot praise us, as	15
little accuse us.
CAMILLO     You pay a great deal too dear for what’s given
freely.
ARCHIDAMUS     Believe me, I speak as my understanding
instructs me, and as mine honesty puts it to utterance.	20
CAMILLO     Sicilia cannot show himself over-kind to
Bohemia. They were trained together in their
childhoods, and there rooted betwixt them then such
an affection which cannot choose but branch now.
Since their more mature dignities and royal necessities	25
made separation of their society, their encounters,
though not personal, have been royally attorneyed
with interchange of gifts, letters, loving embassies,
that they have seemed to be together, though absent;
shook hands, as over a vast; and embraced, as it were,	30
from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens
continue their loves!
ARCHIDAMUS     I think there is not in the world either
malice or matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable
comfort of your young prince Mamillius: it is a	35
gentleman of the greatest promise that ever came into
my note.
CAMILLO     I very well agree with you in the hopes of him:
it is a gallant child; one that, indeed, physics the
subject, makes old hearts fresh: they that went on	40
crutches ere he was born desire yet their life to see him
a man.
ARCHIDAMUS     Would they else be content to die?
CAMILLO     Yes; if there were no other excuse why they
should desire to live.	45
ARCHIDAMUS     If the king had no son, they would desire
to live on crutches till he had one. Exeunt.

1.2 Enter LEONTES, HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, POLIXENES, CAMILLO and attendants.

POLIXENES     Nine changes of the watery star hath been
The shepherd’s note since we have left our throne
Without a burden. Time as long again
Would be fill’d up, my brother, with our thanks;
And yet we should, for perpetuity,	5
Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher
(Yet standing in rich place) I multiply
With one ‘We thank you’ many thousands moe
That go before it.
LEONTES     Stay your thanks a while,
And pay them when you part.
POLIXENES     Sir, that’s to-morrow.	10
I am question’d by my fears, of what may chance
Or breed upon our absence; that may blow
No sneaping winds at home, to make us say
‘This is put forth too truly’. Besides, I have stay’d
To tire your royalty.
LEONTES     We are tougher, brother,	15
Than you can put us to’t.
POLIXENES     No longer stay.
LEONTES     One seve’night longer.
POLIXENES     Very sooth, to-morrow.
LEONTES
We’ll part the time between’s then: and in that
I’ll no gainsaying.
POLIXENES     Press me not, beseech you, so.
There is no tongue that moves, none, none i’th’ world,	20
So soon as yours, could win me: so it should now,
Were there necessity in your request, although
’Twere needful I denied it. My affairs
Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder
Were (in your love) a whip to me; my stay,	25
To you a charge and trouble: to save both,
Farewell, our brother.
LEONTES     Tongue-tied our queen? speak you.
HERMIONE
I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until
You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir,
Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure	30
All in Bohemia’s well: this satisfaction
The by-gone day proclaim’d: say this to him,
He’s beat from his best ward.
LEONTES     Well said, Hermione.
HERMIONE
To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong:
But let him say so then, and let him go;	35
But let him swear so, and he shall not stay,
We’ll thwack him hence with distaffs.
Yet of your royal presence I’ll adventure
The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia
You take my lord, I’ll give him my commission	40
To let him there a month behind the gest
Prefix’d for’s parting: yet, good deed, Leontes
I love thee not a jar o’th’ clock behind
What lady she her lord. You’ll stay?
POLIXENES     No, madam.
HERMIONE     Nay, but you will?
POLIXENES     I may not, verily.	45
HERMIONE     Verily!
You put me off with limber vows; but I,
Though you would seek t’unsphere the stars with oaths,
Should yet say ‘Sir, no going’. Verily,
You shall not go: a lady’s Verily’s	50
As potent as a lord’s. Will you go yet?
Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
Not like a guest: so you shall pay your fees
When you depart, and save your thanks? How say you?
My prisoner? or my guest? By your dread ‘Verily’,	55
One of them you shall be.
POLIXENES     Your guest then, madam:
To be your prisoner should import offending;
Which is for me less easy to commit
Than you to punish.
HERMIONE     Not your gaoler then,
But your kind hostess. Come, I’ll question you	60
Of my lord’s tricks, and yours, when you were boys.
You were pretty lordings then?
POLIXENES     We were, fair queen,
Two lads that thought there was no more behind,
But such a day to-morrow as to-day,
And to be boy eternal.
HERMIONE     Was not my lord	65
The verier wag o’th’ two?
POLIXENES
We were as twinn’d lambs that did frisk i’th’ sun,
And bleat the one at th’other: what we chang’d
Was innocence for innocence: we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream’d	70
That any did. Had we pursu’d that life,
And our weak spirits ne’er been higher rear’d
With stronger blood, we should have answer’d heaven
Boldly ‘not guilty’, the imposition clear’d
Hereditary ours.
HERMIONE     By this we gather	75
You have tripp’d since.
POLIXENES     O my most sacred lady,
Temptations have since then been born to ’s: for
In those unfledg’d days was my wife a girl;
Your precious self had then not cross’d the eyes
Of my young play-fellow.
HERMIONE     Grace to boot!	80
Of this make no conclusion, lest you say
Your queen and I are devils. Yet go on;
Th’offences we have made you do, we’ll answer,
If you first sinn’d with us, and that with us
You did continue fault, and that you slipp’d not	85
With any but with us.
LEONTES     Is he won yet?
HERMIONE     He’ll stay, my lord.
LEONTES     At my request he would not.
HERMIONE, my dearest, thou never spok’st
To better purpose.
HERMIONE     Never?
LEONTES     Never but once.
HERMIONE
What! have I twice said well? when was’t before?	90
I prithee tell me: cram’s with praise, and make’s
As fat as tame things: one good deed, dying tongueless,
Slaughters a thousand, waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages. You may ride’s
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere	95
With spur we heat an acre. But to th’ goal:
My last good deed was to entreat his stay:
What was my first? It has an elder sister,
Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace!
But once before I spoke to th’ purpose? when?	100
Nay, let me have’t: I long!
LEONTES     Why, that was when
Three crabbed months had sour’d themselves to death,
Ere I could make thee open thy white hand,
And clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter
‘I am yours for ever.’
HERMIONE     ’Tis Grace indeed.	105
Why lo you now; I have spoke to th’ purpose twice:
The one, for ever earn’d a royal husband;
Th’other, for some while a friend.
[giving her hand to Polixenes]
LEONTES [aside]     Too hot, too hot!
To mingle friendship far, is mingling bloods.
I have tremor cordis on me: my heart dances,	110
But not for joy – not joy. This entertainment
May a free face put on, derive a liberty
From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,
And well become the agent: ’t may, I grant:
But to be paddling palms, and pinching fingers,	115
As now they are, and making practis’d smiles
As in a looking-glass; and then to sigh, as ’twere
The mort o’th’ deer – O, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows. Mamillius,
Art thou my boy?
MAMILLIUS     Ay, my good lord.
LEONTES     I’fecks:	120
Why that’s my bawcock. What! hast smutch’d thy nose?
They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain,
We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain:
And yet the steer, the heifer and the calf
Are all call’d neat. – Still virginalling	125
Upon his palm! – How now, you wanton calf!
Art thou my calf?
MAMILLIUS     Yes, if you will, my lord.
LEONTES
Thou want’st a rough pash and the shoots that I have
To be full like me: yet they say we are
Almost as like as eggs; women say so,	130
(That will say any thing): but were they false
As o’er-dy’d blacks, as wind, as waters; false
As dice are to be wish’d by one that fixes
No bourn ’twixt his and mine, yet were it true
To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page,	135
Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain!
Most dear’st, my collop! Can thy dam? – may’t be? –
Affection! thy intention stabs the centre:
Thou dost make possible things not so held,
Communicat’st with dreams; – how can this be? –	140
With what’s unreal thou coactive art,
And fellow’st nothing: then ’tis very credent
Thou may’st co-join with something; and thou dost,
(And that beyond commission) and I find it,
(And that to the infection of my brains	145
And hard’ning of my brows).
POLIXENES     What means Sicilia?
HERMIONE     He something seems unsettled.
POLIXENES     How, my lord?
What cheer? how is’t with you, best brother?
HERMIONE     You look
As if you held a brow of much distraction:
Are you mov’d, my lord?
LEONTES     No, in good earnest.	150
How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy’s face, methoughts I did recoil
Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech’d,	155
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzl’d
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous:
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend,	160
Will you take eggs for money?
MAMILLIUS     No, my lord, I’ll fight.
LEONTES
You will? Why, happy man be’s dole! My brother,
Are you so fond of your young prince, as we
Do seem to be of ours?
POLIXENES     If at home, sir,	165
He’s all my exercise, my mirth, my matter:
Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy;
My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all.
He makes a July’s day short as December;
And with his varying childness cures in me	170
Thoughts that would thick my blood.
LEONTES     So stands this squire
Offic’d with me: we two will walk, my lord,
And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione,
How thou lov’st us, show in our brother’s welcome;
Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap:	175
Next to thyself, and my young rover, he’s
Apparent to my heart.
HERMIONE     If you would seek us,
We are yours i’th’ garden: shall’s attend you there?
LEONTES
To your own bents dispose you: you’ll be found,
Be you beneath the sky. [aside] I am angling now,	180
Though you perceive me not how I give line.
Go to, go to!
How she holds up the neb, the bill to him!
And arms her with the boldness of a wife
To her allowing husband!
Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione and attendants.
Gone already!	185
Inch-thick, knee-deep; o’er head and ears a fork’d one.
Go, play, boy, play: thy mother plays, and I
Play too; but so disgrac’d a part, whose issue
Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour
Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play. There havec been,	190
(Or I am much deceiv’d) cuckolds ere now,
And many a man there is (even at this present,
Now, while I speak this) holds his wife by th’ arm,
That little thinks she has been sluic’d in’s absence
And his pond fish’d by his next neighbour, by	195
Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there’s comfort in’t,
Whiles other men have gates, and those gates open’d,
As mine, against their will. Should all despair
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
Would hang themselves. Physic for’t there’s none;	200
It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
Where ’tis predominant; and ’tis powerful, think it,
From east, west, north, and south; be it concluded,
No barricado for a belly. Know’t,
It will let in and out the enemy,	205
With bag and baggage: many thousand on’s
Have the disease, and feel’t not. How now, boy?
MAMILLIUS     I am like you, they say.
LEONTES     Why, that’s some comfort.
What, Camillo there?
CAMILLO     Ay, my good lord.	210
LEONTES     Go play, Mamillius; thou’rt an honest man.
Exit Mamillius.
Camillo, this great Sir will yet stay longer.
CAMILLO     You had much ado to make his anchor hold:
When you cast out, it still came home.
LEONTES     Didst note it?
CAMILLO     He would not stay at your petitions; made	215
His business more material.
LEONTES     Didst perceive it?
[aside] They’re here with me already; whisp’ring, rounding
‘Sicilia is a so-forth’: ’tis far gone,
When I shall gust it last. – How cam’t, Camillo,
That he did stay?
CAMILLO     At the good queen’s entreaty.	220
LEONTES
At the queen’s be’t: ‘good’ should be pertinent,
But so it is, it is not. Was this taken
By any understanding pate but thine?
For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in
More than the common blocks: not noted, is’t,	225
But of the finer natures? by some severals
Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes
Perchance are to this business purblind? say!
CAMILLO     Business, my lord? I think most understand
Bohemia stays here longer.
LEONTES     Ha?
CAMILLO     Stays here longer.	230
LEONTES     Ay, but why?
CAMILLO     To satisfy your highness, and the entreaties
Of our most gracious mistress.
LEONTES     Satisfy?
Th’entreaties of your mistress? satisfy?
Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,	235
With all the nearest things to my heart, as well
My chamber-counsels, wherein, priest-like, thou
Hast cleans’d my bosom: I from thee departed
Thy penitent reform’d. But we have been
Deceiv’d in thy integrity, deceiv’d	240
In that which seems so.
CAMILLO     Be it forbid, my lord!
LEONTES     To bide upon’t: thou art not honest: or,
If thou inclin’st that way, thou art a coward,
Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining
From course requir’d: or else thou must be counted	245
A servant grafted in my serious trust,
And therein negligent; or else a fool,
That seest a game play’d home, the rich stake drawn,
And tak’st it all for jest.
CAMILLO     My gracious lord,
I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful;	250
In every one of these no man is free,
But that his negligence, his folly, fear,
Among the infinite doings of the world,
Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord,
If ever I were wilful-negligent,	255
It was my folly: if industriously
I play’d the fool, it was my negligence,
Not weighing well the end: if ever fearful
To do a thing, where I the issue doubted,
Whereof the execution did cry out	260
Against the non-performance, ’twas a fear
Which oft infects the wisest: these, my lord,
Are such allow’d infirmities that honesty
Is never free of. But, beseech your Grace,
Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass	265
By its own visage: if I then deny it,
’Tis none of mine.
LEONTES     Ha’ not you seen, Camillo?
(But that’s past doubt: you have, or your eye-glass
Is thicker than a cuckold’s horn) or heard?
(For to a vision so apparent rumour	270
Cannot be mute) or thought? (for cogitation
Resides not in that man that does not think)
My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess,
Or else be impudently negative,
To have nor eyes, nor ears, nor thought, then say	275
My wife’s a hobby-horse, deserves a name
As rank as any flax-wench that puts to
Before her troth-plight: say’t and justify’t!
CAMILLO     I would not be a stander-by, to hear
My sovereign mistress clouded so, without	280
My present vengeance taken: ’shrew my heart,
You never spoke what did become you less
Than this; which to reiterate were sin
As deep as that, though true.
LEONTES     Is whispering nothing?
Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses?	285
Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career
Of laughter with a sigh (a note infallible
Of breaking honesty)? horsing foot on foot?
Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift?
Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes	290
Blind with the pin and web, but theirs; theirs only.
That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing?
Why then the world, and all that’s in’t, is nothing,
The covering sky is nothing, Bohemia nothing,
My wife is nothing, nor nothing have these nothings,	295
If this be nothing.
CAMILLO     Good my lord, be cur’d
Of this diseas’d opinion, and betimes,
For ’tis most dangerous.
LEONTES     Say it be, ’tis true.
CAMILLO     No, no, my lord.
LEONTES     It is: you lie, you lie:
I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee,	300
Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave,
Or else a hovering temporizer that
Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,
Inclining to them both: were my wife’s liver
Infected, as her life, she would not live	305
The running of one glass.
CAMILLO     Who does infect her?
LEONTES
Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging
About his neck, Bohemia; who, if I
Had servants true about me, that bare eyes
To see alike mine honour as their profits,	310
Their own particular thrifts, they would do that
Which should undo more doing: ay, and thou
His cupbearer, – whom I from meaner form
Have bench’d and rear’d to worship, who may’st see
Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven,	315
How I am gall’d, – might’st bespice a cup,
To give mine enemy a lasting wink;
Which draught to me were cordial.
CAMILLO     Sir, my lord,
I could do this, and that with no rash potion,
But with a ling’ring dram, that should not work	320
Maliciously, like poison: but I cannot
Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress
(So sovereignly being honourable).
I have lov’d thee, –
LEONTES     Make that thy question, and go rot!
Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled,	325
To appoint myself in this vexation; sully
The purity and whiteness of my sheets,
(Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted
Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps)
Give scandal to the blood o’th’ prince, my son,	330
(Who I do think is mine and love as mine)
Without ripe moving to’t? Would I do this?
Could man so blench?
CAMILLO     I must believe you, sir:
I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for’t;
Provided, that when he’s removed, your highness	335
Will take again your queen, as yours at first,
Even for your son’s sake, and thereby for sealing
The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms
Known and allied to yours.
LEONTES     Thou dost advise me
Even so as I mine own course have set down:	340
I’ll give no blemish to her honour, none.
CAMILLO     My lord,
Go then; and with a countenance as clear
As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia,
And with your queen. I am his cupbearer:	345
If from me he have wholesome beverage,
Account me not your servant.
LEONTES     This is all:
Do’t, and thou hast the one half of my heart;
Do’t not, thou splitt’st thine own.
CAMILLO     I’ll do’t, my lord.
LEONTES     I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis’d me.	350
Exit.
CAMILLO     O miserable lady! But, for me,
What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner
Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do’t
Is the obedience to a master; one
Who, in rebellion with himself, will have	355
All that are his, so too. To do this deed,
Promotion follows. If I could find example
Of thousands that had struck anointed kings
And flourish’d after, I’d not do’t: but since
Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment bears not one,	360
Let villainy itself forswear’t. I must
Forsake the court: to do’t, or no, is certain
To me a break-neck. Happy star reign now!
Here comes Bohemia.
Enter POLIXENES.
POLIXENES     This is strange: methinks
My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?	365
Good day, Camillo.
CAMILLO     Hail, most royal sir!
POLIXENES     What is the news i’th’ court?
CAMILLO     None rare, my lord.
POLIXENES     The king hath on him such a countenance
As he had lost some province, and a region
Lov’d as he loves himself: even now I met him	370
With customary compliment, when he,
Wafting his eyes to th’ contrary, and falling
A lip of much contempt, speeds from me, and
So leaves me, to consider what is breeding
That changes thus his manners.	375
CAMILLO     I dare not know, my lord.
POLIXENES
How, dare not? do not? Do you know, and dare not?
Be intelligent to me: ’tis thereabouts:
For, to yourself, what you do know, you must,
And cannot say you dare not. Good Camillo,	380
Your chang’d complexions are to me a mirror
Which shows me mine chang’d too; for I must be
A party in this alteration, finding
Myself thus alter’d with’t.
CAMILLO     There is a sickness
Which puts some of us in distemper, but	385
I cannot name the disease, and it is caught
Of you, that yet are well.
POLIXENES     How caught of me?
Make me not sighted like the basilisk.
I have look’d on thousands, who have sped the better
By my regard, but kill’d none so. Camillo, –	390
As you are certainly a gentleman, thereto
Clerk-like experienc’d, which no less adorns
Our gentry than our parents’ noble names,
In whose success we are gentle, – I beseech you,
If you know aught which does behove my knowledge	395
Thereof to be inform’d, imprison’t not
In ignorant concealment.
CAMILLO     I may not answer.
POLIXENES     A sickness caught of me, and yet I well?
I must be answer’d. Dost thou hear, Camillo?
I conjure thee, by all the parts of man	400
Which honour does acknowledge, whereof the least
Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare
What incidency thou dost guess of harm
Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near,
Which way to be prevented, if to be:	405
If not, how best to bear it.
CAMILLO     Sir, I will tell you;
Since I am charg’d in honour, and by him
That I think honourable. Therefore mark my counsel,
Which must be ev’n as swiftly follow’d as
I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me	410
Cry lost, and so good night!
POLIXENES     On, good Camillo.
CAMILLO     I am appointed him to murder you.
POLIXENES     By whom, Camillo?
CAMILLO     By the king.
POLIXENES     For what?
CAMILLO
He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears,
As he had seen’t, or been an instrument	415
To vice you to’t, that you have touch’d his queen
Forbiddenly.
POLIXENES     O then, my best blood turn
To an infected jelly, and my name
Be yok’d with his that did betray the Best!
Turn then my freshest reputation to	420
A savour that may strike the dullest nostril
Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn’d,
Nay, hated too, worse than the great’st infection
That e’er was heard or read!
CAMILLO     Swear his thought over
By each particular star in heaven, and	425
By all their influences; you may as well
Forbid the sea for to obey the moon,
As or by oath remove or counsel shake
The fabric of his folly, whose foundation
Is pil’d upon his faith, and will continue	430
The standing of his body.
POLIXENES     How should this grow?
CAMILLO     I know not: but I am sure ’tis safer to
Avoid what’s grown than question how ’tis born.
If therefore you dare trust my honesty,
That lies enclosed in this trunk; which you	435
Shall bear along impawn’d, away to-night!
Your followers I will whisper to the business,
And will by twos and threes, at several posterns,
Clear them o’th’ city. For myself, I’ll put
My fortunes to your service, which are here	440
By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain,
For by the honour of my parents, I
Have utter’d truth: which if you seek to prove,
I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer
Than one condemned by the king’s own mouth,	445
Thereon his execution sworn.
POLIXENES     I do believe thee:
I saw his heart in’s face. Give me thy hand,
Be pilot to me, and thy places shall
Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready, and
My people did expect my hence departure	450
Two days ago. This jealousy
Is for a precious creature: as she’s rare,
Must it be great; and, as his person’s mighty,
Must it be violent; and, as he does conceive
He is dishonour’d by a man which ever	455
Profess’d to him; why, his revenges must
In that be made more bitter. Fear o’ershades me:
Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing
Of his ill-ta’en suspicion! Come, Camillo,	460
I will respect thee as a father if
Thou bear’st my life off. Hence! let us avoid.
CAMILLO     It is in mine authority to command
The keys of all the posterns: please your highness
To take the urgent hour. Come sir, away.     Exeunt.	465

2.1 Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS and Ladies.

HERMIONE     Take the boy to you: he so troubles me,
’Tis past enduring.
1LADY     Come, my gracious lord,
Shall I be your play-fellow?
MAMILLIUS     No, I’ll none of you.
1LADY Why, my sweet lord?
MAMILLIUS     You’ll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if	5
I were a baby still. I love you better.
2LADY And why so, my lord?
MAMILLIUS     Not for because
Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say,
Become some women best, so that there be not
Too much hair there, but in a semicircle,	10
Or a half-moon, made with a pen.
2LADY     Who taught’ this!
MAMILLIUS
I learn’d it out of women’s faces. Pray now,
What colour are your eyebrows?
1LADY     Blue, my lord.
MAMILLIUS
Nay, that’s a mock: I have seen a lady’s nose
That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.
1LADY     Hark ye,	15
The queen your mother rounds apace: we shall
Present our services to a fine new prince
One of these days, and then you’d wanton with us,
If we would have you.
2LADY     She is spread of late
Into a goodly bulk: good time encounter her!	20
HERMIONE
What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now
I am for you again: ’pray you, sit by us,
And tell’s a tale.
MAMILLIUS     Merry, or sad, shall’t be?
HERMIONE     As merry as you will.
MAMILLIUS     A sad tale’s best for winter: I have one	25
Of sprites and goblins.
HERMIONE     Let’s have that, good sir.
Come on, sit down, come on, and do your best
To fright me with your sprites: you’re powerful at it.
MAMILLIUS     There was a man –
HERMIONE     Nay, come sit down: then on.
MAMILLIUS     Dwelt by a churchyard: I will tell it softly,	30
Yond crickets shall not hear it.
HERMIONE     Come on then,
And giv’t me in mine ear.
Enter LEONTES, with ANTIGONUS, Lords and others.
LEONTES
Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?
A LORD     Behind the tuft of pines I met them, never
Saw I men scour so on their way: I ey’d them	35
Even to their ships.
LEONTES     How blest am I
In my just censure! in my true opinion!
Alack, for lesser knowledge! how accurs’d
In being so blest! There may be in the cup
A spider steep’d, and one may drink, depart,	40
And yet partake no venom (for his knowledge
Is not infected); but if one present
Th’abhorr’d ingredient to his eye, make known
How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider.	45
CAMILLO was his help in this, his pandar:
There is a plot against my life, my crown;
All’s true that is mistrusted: that false villain,
Whom I employ’d, was pre-employ’d by him:
He has discover’d my design, and I	50
Remain a pinch’d thing; yea, a very trick
For them to play at will. How came the posterns
So easily open?
A LORD     By his great authority,
Which often hath no less prevail’d than so
On your command.
LEONTES     I know’t too well.	55
Give me the boy: I am glad you did not nurse him:
Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you
Have too much blood in him.
HERMIONE     What is this? sport?
LEONTES
Bear the boy hence, he shall not come about her,
Away with him, and let her sport herself	60
With that she’s big with; for ’tis Polixenes
Has made thee swell thus.
Exit Mamillius, with a Lady.
HERMIONE     But I’d say he had not;
And I’ll be sworn you would believe my saying,
How e’er you lean to th’ nay-ward.
LEONTES     You, my lords,
Look on her, mark her well: be but about	65
To say ‘she is a goodly lady’, and
The justice of your hearts will thereto add
‘’Tis pity she’s not honest, honourable’:
Praise her but for this her without-door form
(Which on my faith deserves high speech) and straight	70
The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands
That calumny doth use – O, I am out,
That mercy does; for calumny will sear
Virtue itself – these shrugs, these hum’s and ha’s,
When you have said ‘she’s goodly’, come between,	75
Ere you can say ‘she’s honest’: but be’t known,
From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,
She’s an adultress!
HERMIONE     Should a villain say so
(The most replenish’d villain in the world)
He were as much more villain: you, my lord,	80
Do but mistake.
LEONTES     You have mistook, my lady,
POLIXENES for Leontes. O thou thing –
Which I’ll not call a creature of thy place,
Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,
Should a like language use to all degrees,	85
And mannerly distinguishment leave out
Betwixt the prince and beggar. I have said
She’s an adultress; I have said with whom:
More; she’s a traitor, and Camillo is
A federary with her, and one that knows,	90
What she should shame to know herself
But with her most vile principal, that she’s
A bed-swerver, even as bad as those
That vulgars give bold’st titles; ay, and privy
To this their late escape.
HERMIONE     No, by my life,	95
Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you,
When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that
You thus have publish’d me! Gentle my lord,
You scarce can right me throughly, then, to say
You did mistake.
LEONTES     No: if I mistake	100
In those foundations which I build upon,
The centre is not big enough to bear
A school-boy’s top. Away with her, to prison!
He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty
But that he speaks.
HERMIONE     There’s some ill planet reigns:	105
I must be patient till the heavens look
With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords,
I am not prone to weeping, as our sex
Commonly are; the want of which vain dew
Perchance shall dry your pities: but I have	110
That honourable grief lodg’d here which burns
Worse than tears drown: beseech you all, my lords,
With thoughts so qualified as your charities
Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so
The king’s will be perform’d.
LEONTES     Shall I be heard?	115
HERMIONE
Who is’t that goes with me? Beseech your highness,
My women may be with me, for you see
My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools,
There is no cause: when you shall know your mistress
Has deserv’d prison, then abound in tears	120
As I come out: this action I now go on
Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord:
I never wish’d to see you sorry; now
I trust I shall. My women, come; you have leave.
LEONTES     Go, do our bidding: hence!	125
Exit Queen, guarded; with Ladies.
A LORD Beseech your highness, call the queen again.
ANTIGONUS
Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice
Prove violence, in the which three great ones suffer,
Yourself, your queen, your son.
A LORD     For her, my lord,
I dare my life lay down, and will do’t, sir,	130
Please you t’accept it, that the queen is spotless
I’th’ eyes of heaven, and to you – I mean
In this which you accuse her.
ANTIGONUS     If it prove
She’s otherwise, I’ll keep my stables where
I lodge my wife; I’ll go in couples with her;	135
Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her:
For every inch of woman in the world,
Ay, every dram of woman’s flesh is false,
If she be.
LEONTES     Hold your peaces.
A LORD     Good my lord, –
ANTIGONUS     It is for you we speak, not for ourselves:	140
You are abus’d, and by some putter-on
That will be damn’d for’t: would I knew the villain,
I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw’d,
I have three daughters: the eldest is eleven;
The second and the third, nine and some five:	145
If this prove true, they’ll pay for’t. By mine honour
I’ll geld ’em all; fourteen they shall not see
To bring false generations: they are co-heirs,
And I had rather glib myself, than they
Should not produce fair issue.
LEONTES     Cease; no more.	150
You smell this business with a sense as cold
As is a dead man’s nose: but I do see’t and feel’t,
As you feel doing thus; and see withal
The instruments that feel.
ANTIGONUS     If it be so,
We need no grave to bury honesty:	155
There’s not a grain of it the face to sweeten
Of the whole dungy earth.
LEONTES     What! lack I credit?
A LORD I had rather you did lack than I, my lord,
Upon this ground: and more it would content me
To have her honour true than your suspicion,	160
Be blam’d for’t how you might.
LEONTES     Why, what need we
Commune with you of this, but rather follow
Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative
Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness
Imparts this; which if you, or stupefied,	165
Or seeming so, in skill, cannot or will not
Relish a truth, like us, inform yourselves
We need no more of your advice: the matter,
The loss, the gain, the ord’ring on’t, is all
Properly ours.
ANTIGONUS     And I wish, my liege,	170
You had only in your silent judgement tried it,
Without more overture.
LEONTES     How could that be?
Either thou art most ignorant by age,
Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo’s flight,
Added to their familiarity,	175
(Which was as gross as ever touch’d conjecture,
That lack’d sight only, nought for approbation
But only seeing, all other circumstances
Made up to th’ deed) doth push on this proceeding.
Yet, for a greater confirmation	180
(For in an act of this importance, ’twere
Most piteous to be wild), I have dispatch’d in post
To sacred Delphos, to Apollo’s temple,
Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
Of stuff’d sufficiency: now from the Oracle	185
They will bring all; whose spiritual counsel had,
Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well?
A LORD Well done, my lord.
LEONTES     Though I am satisfied, and need no more
Than what I know, yet shall the Oracle	190
Give rest to th’ minds of others; such as he
Whose ignorant credulity will not
Come up to th’ truth. So have we thought it good
From our free person she should be confined,
Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence	195
Be left her to perform. Come, follow us;
We are to speak in public; for this business
Will raise us all.
ANTIGONUS     [aside] To laughter, as I take it,
If the good truth were known.     Exeunt.

2.2 Enter PAULINA, a Gentleman and attendants.

PAULINA     The keeper of the prison, call to him;
Let him have knowledge who I am. Good lady,
No court in Europe is too good for thee;
What dost thou then in prison?
Enter Gaoler.
Now good sir,
You know me, do you not?
GAOLER     For a worthy lady	5
And one who much I honour.
PAULINA     Pray you then,
Conduct me to the queen.
GAOLER     I may not, madam:
To the contrary I have express commandment.
PAULINA     Here’s ado,
To lock up honesty and honour from	10
Th’access of gentle visitors! Is’t lawful, pray you,
To see her women? any of them? Emilia?
GAOLER     So please you, madam,
To put apart these your attendants, I
Shall bring Emilia forth.
PAULINA     I pray now, call her.	15
Withdraw yourselves.
Exeunt Gentleman and attendants.
GAOLER     And, madam,
I must be present at your conference.
PAULINA     Well: be’t so: prithee.      Exit Gaoler.
Here’s such ado to make no stain a stain
As passes colouring.
Enter Gaoler, with EMILIA.
Dear gentlewoman,	20
How fares our gracious lady?
EMILIA     As well as one so great and so forlorn
May hold together: on her frights and griefs
(Which never tender lady hath borne greater)
She is, something before her time, deliver’d.	25
PAULINA     A boy?
EMILIA     A daughter; and a goodly babe,
Lusty, and like to live: the queen receives
Much comfort in’t; says, ‘My poor prisoner,
I am innocent as you.’
PAULINA     I dare be sworn:
These dangerous, unsafe lunes i’th’ king, beshrew them!	30
He must be told on’t, and he shall: the office
Becomes a woman best. I’ll take’t upon me:
If I prove honey-mouth’d, let my tongue blister,
And never to my red-look’d anger be
The trumpet any more. Pray you, Emilia,	35
Commend my best obedience to the queen:
If she dares trust me with her little babe,
I’ll show’t the king, and undertake to be
Her advocate to th’ loud’st. We do not know
How he may soften at the sight o’th’ child:	40
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades, when speaking fails.
EMILIA     Most worthy madam,
Your honour and your goodness is so evident,
That your free undertaking cannot miss
A thriving issue: there is no lady living	45
So meet for this great errand. Please your ladyship
To visit the next room, I’ll presently
Acquaint the queen of your most noble offer,
Who but to-day hammer’d of this design,
But durst not tempt a minister of honour,	50
Lest she should be denied.
PAULINA     Tell her, Emilia,
I’ll use that tongue I have: if wit flow from’t
As boldness from my bosom, let’t not be doubted
I shall do good.
EMILIA     Now be you blest for it!
I’ll to the queen: please you, come something nearer.	55
GAOLER
Madam, if ’t please the queen to send the babe,
I know not what I shall incur to pass it,
Having no warrant.
PAULINA     You need not fear it, sir:
This child was prisoner to the womb, and is
By law and process of great nature, thence	60
Free’d and enfranchis’d; not a party to
The anger of the king, nor guilty of
(If any be) the trespass of the queen.
GAOLER     I do believe it.
PAULINA     Do not you fear: upon mine honour, I	65
Will stand betwixt you and danger.     Exeunt.

2.3 LEONTES discovered.

LEONTES
Nor night, nor day, no rest: it is but weakness
To bear the matter thus: mere weakness. If
The cause were not in being, – part o’th’ cause,
She th’adultress: for the harlot king
Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank	5
And level of my brain: plot-proof: but she
I can hook to me: say that she were gone,
Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest
Might come to me again.
Enter Servant.
Who’s there?
SERVANT     My Lord!
LEONTES     How does the boy?
SERVANT     He took good rest to-night;	10
’Tis hop’d his sickness is discharg’d.
LEONTES     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,	15
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
And downright languish’d. Leave me solely: go,
See how he fares.     Exit Servant.
Fie, fie! no thought of him:
The very thought of my revenges that way
Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty,	20
And in his parties, his alliance; let him be
Until a time may serve. For present vengeance,
Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes
Laugh at me; make their pastime at my sorrow:
They should not laugh if I could reach them, nor	25
Shall she, within my power.
Enter PAULINA, carrying a baby, with ANTIGONUS, Lords and servants, who try to prevent her.
A LORD     You must not enter.
PAULINA     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.
ANTIGONUS     That’s enough.	30
SERVANT
Madam, he hath not slept to-night, commanded
None should come at him.
PAULINA     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	35
Nourish the cause of his awaking. I
Do come with words as medicinal as true,
Honest, as either, to purge him of that humour
That presses him from sleep.
LEONTES     What noise there, ho?
PAULINA     No noise, my lord; but needful conference	40
About some gossips for your highness.
LEONTES     How!
Away with that audacious lady! Antigonus,
I charg’d thee that she should not come about me.
I knew she would.
ANTIGONUS     I told her so, my lord,
On your displeasure’s peril and on mine,	45
She should not visit you.
LEONTES     What! canst not rule her?
PAULINA     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.
ANTIGONUS     La you now, you hear:	50
When she will take the rein I let her run;
But she’ll not stumble.
PAULINA     Good my liege, I come, –
And, I beseech you hear me, who professes
Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
Your most obedient counsellor, yet that dares	55
Less appear so, in comforting your evils,
Than such as most seem yours; – I say, I come
From your good queen.
LEONTES     Good queen!
PAULINA
Good queen, my lord, good queen: I say good queen,
And would by combat make her good, so were I	60
A man, the worst about you.
LEONTES     Force her hence.
PAULINA     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;	65
Here ’tis: [laying down the child]
commends it to your blessing.
LEONTES     Out!
A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o’ door:
A most intelligencing bawd!
PAULINA     Not so:
I am as ignorant in that, as you
In so entitling me: and no less honest	70
Than you are mad; which is enough, I’ll warrant,
As this world goes, to pass for honest.
LEONTES     Traitors!
Will you not push her out? Give her the bastard,
Thou dotard! thou art woman-tir’d, unroosted
By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard,	75
Take’t up, I say; give’t to thy crone.
PAULINA     For ever
Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou
Tak’st up the princess, by that forced baseness
Which he has put upon’t!
LEONTES     He dreads his wife.
PAULINA
So I would you did; then ’twere past all doubt	80
You’d call your children yours.
LEONTES     A nest of traitors!
ANTIGONUS     I am none, by this good light.
PAULINA     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,	85
Whose sting is sharper than the sword’s; 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 sound.
LEONTES     A callat	90
Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband,
And now baits me! This brat is none of mine;
It is the issue of Polixenes.
Hence with it, and together with the dam
Commit them to the fire!
PAULINA     It is yours;	95
And, might we lay th’ old proverb to your charge,
So like you, ’tis the worse. Behold, my lords,
Although 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,	100
The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek; his smiles;
The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger:
And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made
So like to him that got it, if thou hast
The ordering of the mind too, ’mongst all colours	105
No yellow in’t, lest she suspect, as he does,
Her children not her husband’s!
LEONTES     A gross hag!
And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang’d,
That wilt not stay her tongue.
ANTIGONUS     Hang all the husbands
That cannot do that feat, you’ll leave yourself	110
Hardly one subject.
LEONTES     Once more, take her hence.
PAULINA     A most unworthy and unnatural lord
Can do no more.
LEONTES     I’ll ha’ thee burnt.
PAULINA     I care not:
It is an heretic that makes the fire,
Not she which burns in’t. I’ll not call you tyrant;	115
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 the world.
LEONTES     On your allegiance,	120
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!
PAULINA
I pray you, do not push me; I’ll be gone.
Look to your babe, my lord: ’tis yours: Jove send her	125
A better guiding spirit! What needs these hands?
You, that are thus so tender o’er his follies,
Will never do him good, not one of you.
So, so: farewell; we are gone.     Exit.
LEONTES
Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this.	130
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;
Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight:
Within this hour bring me word ’tis done,	135
And by good testimony, or I’ll seize thy life,
With what thou else call’st thine. If thou refuse
And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so;
The bastard brains with these my proper hands
Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire;	140
For thou set’st on thy wife.
ANTIGONUS     I did not, sir:
These lords, my noble fellows, if they please,
Can clear me in’t.
LORDS     We can: my royal liege,
He is not guilty of her coming hither.
LEONTES     You’re liars all.	145
A LORD Beseech your highness, give us better credit:
We have always truly serv’d you; and beseech’
So to esteem of us: and on our knees we beg
(As recompense of our dear services
Past and to come) that you do change this purpose,	150
Which being so horrible, so bloody, must
Lead on to some foul issue. We all kneel.
LEONTES     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	155
Than curse it then. But be it: let it live.
It shall not neither. You sir, come you hither,
You that have been so tenderly officious
With Lady Margery, your midwife there,
To save this bastard’s life – for ’tis a bastard,	160
So sure as this beard’s grey – what will you adventure
To save this brat’s life?
ANTIGONUS     Anything, my lord,
That my ability may undergo,
And nobleness impose: at least thus much –
I’ll pawn the little blood which I have left	165
To save the innocent: anything possible.
LEONTES     It shall be possible. Swear by this sword
Thou wilt perform my bidding.
ANTIGONUS     I will, my lord.
LEONTES     Mark and perform it: seest thou? for the fail
Of any point in’t shall not only be	170
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 desert place, quite out	175
Of our dominions; and that there thou leave it
(Without more mercy) to it own protection
And favour of the climate. As by strange fortune
It came to us, I do in justice charge thee,
On thy soul’s peril and thy body’s torture,	180
That thou commend it strangely to some place
Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up
ANTIGONUS     I swear to do this; though a present death
Had been more merciful. Come on, poor babe:
Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens	185
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,	190
Poor thing, condemn’d to loss!     Exit with the child.
LEONTES     No: I’ll not rear
Another’s issue.
Enter a Servant.
SERVANT     Please your highness, posts
From those you sent to th’Oracle, are come
An hour since: Cleomenes and Dion,
Being well arriv’d from Delphos, are both landed,	195
Hasting to th’court.
A LORD     So please you, sir, their speed
Hath been beyond account.
LEONTES     Twenty-three days
They have been absent: ’tis good speed; foretells
The great Apollo suddenly will have
The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords;
Summon a session, that we may arraign	200
Our most disloyal lady; for, as she hath
Been publicly accus’d, so shall she have
A just and open trial. While she lives
My heart will be a burden to me. Leave me.
And think upon my bidding.     Exeunt.	205

3.1 Enter CLEOMENES and DION.

CLEOMENES     The climate’s delicate, the air most sweet,
Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing
The common praise it bears.
DION     I shall report,
For most it caught me, the celestial habits
(Methinks I so should term them), and the reverence	5
Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice!
How ceremonious, solemn and unearthly
It was i’th’ offering!
CLEOMENES     But of all, the burst
And the ear-deaf ’ning voice o’th’ Oracle,
Kin to Jove’s thunder, so surpris’d my sense,	10
That I was nothing.
DION     If th’event o’th’ journey
Prove as successful to the queen, – O be’t so! –
As it hath been to us, rare, pleasant, speedy,
The time is worth the use on’t.
CLEOMENES     Great Apollo
Turn all to th’ best! These proclamations,	15
So forcing faults upon Hermione,
I little like.
DION     The violent carriage of it
Will clear or end the business: when the Oracle
(Thus by Apollo’s great divine seal’d up)
Shall the contents discover, something rare	20
Even then will rush to knowledge. Go: fresh horses!
And gracious be the issue.     Exeunt.

3.2 Enter LEONTES, Lords and Officers.

LEONTES
This sessions (to our great grief we pronounce)
Even pushes ’gainst our heart: 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	5
Proceed in justice, which shall have due course,
Even to the guilt or the purgation.
Produce the prisoner.
OFFICER     It is his highness’ pleasure that the queen
Appear in person, here in court. Silence!	10
Enter HERMIONE guarded; PAULINA and ladies attending.
LEONTES     Read the indictment.
OFFICER     [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	15
the life of our sovereign lord the king, thy royal husband:
the pretence 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.	20
HERMIONE     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,	25
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	30
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 devis’d	35
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	40
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	45
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 t’appear thus: if one jot beyond
The bound of honour, or in act or will	50
That way inclining, harden’d be the hearts
Of all that hear me, and my near’st of kin
Cry fie upon my grave!
LEONTES     I ne’er heard yet
That any of these bolder vices wanted
Less impudence to gainsay what they did	55
Than to perform it first.
HERMIONE     That’s true enough,
Though ’tis a saying, sir, not due to me.
LEONTES     You will not own it.
HERMIONE     More than mistress of
Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,	60
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:	65
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,	70
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.	75
LEONTES     You knew of his departure, as you know
What you have underta’en to do in’s absence.
HERMIONE     Sir,
You speak a language that I understand not:
My life stands in the level of your dreams,	80
Which I’ll lay down.
LEONTES     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,
Which to deny, concerns more than avails; for as	85
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.
HERMIONE     Sir, spare your threats:	90
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,	95
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)
Hal’d out to murder; myself on every post	100
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’th’ open air, before
I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,	105
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	110
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!
A LORD     This your request	115
Is altogether just: therefore bring forth,
And in Apollo’s name, his Oracle.
Exeunt certain Officers.
HERMIONE     The Emperor of Russia was my father:
O that he were alive, and here beholding
His daughter’s trial! that he did but see	120
The flatness of my misery, yet with eyes
Of pity, not revenge!
Enter Officers, with CLEOMENES and DION.
OFFICER
You here shall swear upon this sword of justice,
That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have
Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought	125
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.
CLEOMENES, DION     All this we swear.
LEONTES     Break up the seals and read.	130
OFFICER     [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!
HERMIONE     Praised!	135
LEONTES     Hast thou read truth?
OFFICER     Ay, my lord, even so
As it is here set down.
LEONTES     There is no truth at all i’th’ Oracle:
The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood.
Enter Servant.
SERVANT     My lord the king, the king!
LEONTES     What is the business?	140
SERVANT     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.
LEONTES     How! gone?
SERVANT     Is dead.
LEONTES     Apollo’s angry, and the heavens themselves
Do strike at my injustice.
[Hermione faints.]     How now there?	145
PAULINA     This news is mortal to the queen: look down
And see what death is doing.
LEONTES     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	150
Some remedies for life.
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:	155
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	160
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	165
(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!
Enter PAULINA.
PAULINA     Woe the while!	170
O cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
Break too!
A LORD     What fit is this, good lady?
PAULINA     What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels? racks? fires? what flaying? boiling?
In leads or oils? What old or newer torture	175
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,	180
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 damnable ingrateful: nor was’t much,	185
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,
To be or none or little; though a devil	190
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	195
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 sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead: and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
A LORD     The higher powers forbid!	200
PAULINA
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!	205
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	210
In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
To look that way thou wert.
LEONTES     Go on, go on:
Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserv’d
All tongues to talk their bitt’rest.
A LORD     Say no more:
Howe’er the business goes, you have made fault	215
I’th’ boldness of your speech.
PAULINA     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 th’ noble heart. What’s gone and what’s past help	220
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:	225
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 your patience to you,
And I’ll say nothing.
LEONTES     Thou didst speak but well	230
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	235
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	240
To these sorrows.     Exeunt.

3.3 Enter ANTIGONUS with the babe, and a Mariner.

ANTIGONUS
Thou art perfect, then, our ship hath touch’d upon
The deserts of Bohemia?
MARINER     Ay, my lord, and fear
We have landed in ill time: the skies look grimly,
And threaten present blusters. In my conscience,
The heavens with that we have in hand are angry,	5
And frown upon’s.
ANTIGONUS
Their sacred wills be done! Go, get aboard;
Look to thy bark: I’ll not be long before
I call upon thee.
MARINER     Make your best haste, and go not	10
Too far i’th’ land: ’tis like to be loud weather;
Besides, this place is famous for the creatures
Of prey that keep upon’t.
ANTIGONUS     Go thou away:
I’ll follow instantly.
MARINER     I am glad at heart
To be so rid o’th’ business.     Exit.
ANTIGONUS     Come, poor babe:	15
I have heard, but not believ’d, the spirits o’th’ dead
May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother
Appear’d to me last night; for ne’er was dream
So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head on one side, some another;	20
I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,
So fill’d, and so becoming: in pure white robes,
Like very sanctity, she did approach
My cabin where I lay: thrice bow’d before me,
And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes	25
Became two spouts; the fury spent, anon
Did this break from her: ‘Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against thy better disposition,
Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,	30
Places remote enough are in Bohemia,
There weep, and leave it crying: and, for the babe
Is counted lost for ever, Perdita,
I prithee, call’t. For this ungentle business,
Put on thee by my lord, thou ne’er shalt see	35
Thy wife Paulina more.’ And so, with shrieks,
She melted into air. Affrighted much,
I did in time collect myself, and thought
This was so, and no slumber. Dreams are toys:
Yet for this once, yea, superstitiously,	40
I will be squar’d by this. I do believe
HERMIONE hath suffer’d death; and that
Apollo would, this being indeed the issue
Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid,
Either for life or death, upon the earth	45
Of its right father. Blossom, speed thee well!
There lie, and there thy character: there these,
Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty,
And still rest thine. The storm begins: poor wretch,
That for thy mother’s fault art thus expos’d	50
To loss and what may follow! Weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds; and most accurs’d am I
To be by oath enjoin’d to this. Farewell!
The day frowns more and more: thou’rt like to have
A lullaby too rough: I never saw	55
The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour!
Well may I get aboard! This is the chase:
I am gone for ever!     Exit, pursued by a bear.
Enter a Shepherd.
SHEPHERD     I would there were no age between ten and
three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the	60
rest; for there is nothing in the between but getting
wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing,
fighting – Hark you now! Would any but these boiled-
brains of nineteen and two-and-twenty hunt this
weather? They have scared away two of my best sheep,	65
which I fear the wolf will sooner find than the
master: if anywhere I have them, ’tis by the sea-side,
browzing of ivy. [seeing the babe] Good luck, and’t be
thy will, what have we here? Mercy on’s, a barne! A
very pretty barne! A boy or a child, I wonder? A pretty	70
one; a very pretty one. Sure, some scape: though I am
not bookish, yet I can read waiting-gentlewoman in
the scape. This has been some stair-work, some trunk-
work, some behind-door-work: they were warmer that
got this than the poor thing is here. I’ll take it up for	75
pity: yet I’ll tarry till my son come; he hallooed but
even now. Whoa-ho-hoa!
Enter Clown.
CLOWN     Hilloa, loa!
SHEPHERD     What, art so near? If thou’lt see a thing to
talk on when thou art dead and rotten, come hither.	80
What ail’st thou man?
CLOWN     I have seen two such sights, by sea and by land!
But I am not to say it is a sea, for it is now the sky:
betwixt the firmament and it you cannot thrust a
bodkin’s point.	85
SHEPHERD     Why, boy, how is it?
CLOWN     I would you did but see how it chafes, how it
rages, how it takes up the shore! But that’s not to the
point. O, the most piteous cry of the poor souls!
sometimes to see ’em, and not to see ’em: now the ship	90
boring the moon with her main-mast, and anon
swallowed with yest and froth, as you’d thrust a cork
into a hogs-head. And then for the land-service, to see
how the bear tore out his shoulder-bone, how he cried
to me for help and said his name was Antigonus, a	95
nobleman. But to make an end of the ship, to see how
the sea flap-dragoned it: but first, how the poor souls
roared, and the sea mocked them: and how the poor
gentleman roared, and the bear mocked him, both
roaring louder than the sea or weather.	100
SHEPHERD     Name of mercy, when was this, boy?
CLOWN     Now, now: I have not winked since I saw these
sights: the men are not yet cold under water, nor the
bear half dined on the gentleman: he’s at it now.
SHEPHERD     Would I had been by, to have helped the old	105
man!
CLOWN     I would you had been by the ship side, to have
helped her: there your charity would have lacked
footing.
SHEPHERD     Heavy matters! heavy matters! But look thee	110
here, boy. Now bless thyself: thou met’st with things
dying, I with things new-born. Here’s a sight for thee;
look thee, a bearing-cloth for a squire’s child! look thee
here; take up, take up, boy; open’t. So, let’s see: it was
told me I should be rich by the fairies. This is some	115
changeling: open’t. What’s within, boy?
CLOWN     You’re a made old man: if the sins of your youth
are forgiven you, you’re well to live. Gold! all gold!
SHEPHERD     This is fairy gold, boy, and ’twill prove so;
up with’t, keep it close: home, home, the next way. We	120
are lucky, boy; and to be so still requires nothing but
secrecy. Let my sheep go: come, good boy, the next
way home.
CLOWN     Go you the next way with your findings. I’ll go
see if the bear be gone from the gentleman, and how	125
much he hath eaten; they are never curst but when
they are hungry: if there be any of him left, I’ll bury it.
SHEPHERD     That’s a good deed. If thou mayest discern
by that which is left of him what he is, fetch me to th’
sight of him.	130
CLOWN     Marry, will I; and you shall help to put him i’th’
ground.
SHEPHERD     ’Tis a lucky day, boy, and we’ll do good
deeds on’t.     Exeunt.