The Winter's Tale, William Shakespeare [best books to read .TXT] 📗

me; I'll be gone. - Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis yours: Jove send her 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. 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, - And by good testimony, - or I'll seize thy life, With that 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; 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.

FIRST 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, 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, Than curse it then. But, be it; let it live: - It shall not neither. - [To ANTIGONUS.] 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, 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 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 Death to thyself, but to thy lewd-tongu'd wife, Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee, As thou art liegeman to us, that thou carry This female bastard hence; and that thou bear it To some remote and desert place, quite out 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, 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 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.]

LEONTES.
No, I'll not rear Another's issue.

SECOND ATTENDANT.
Please your highness, posts From those you sent to the oracle are come An hour since: Cleomenes and Dion, Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed, Hasting to the court.

FIRST 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 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.]


ACT III.

SCENE I. Sicilia. A Street in some Town.

[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 Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice! How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly, It was i' the offering!

CLEOMENES.
But of all, the burst And the ear-deaf'ning voice o' the oracle, Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense That I was nothing.

DION.
If the event o' the 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, 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 Even then will rush to knowledge. - Go, - fresh horses; - And gracious be the issue!

[Exeunt.]


SCENE II. The same. A Court of Justice

[Enter LEONTES, Lords, and Officers appear, properly seated.]

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 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. -

CRIER.
Silence!

[HERMIONE, is brought in 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 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 true subject, didst counsel and aid them, for their better safety, to fly away by night.'

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, 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. - 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 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 I Have strain'd t' 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!

LEONTES.
I ne'er heard yet That any of these bolder vices wanted Less impudence to gainsay what they did 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, - 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; whose love had spoke, Ever since it could speak, from an infant, freely, That it was yours. Now for conspiracy, I know not how it tastes; though