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,
"T is 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

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,

Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely,
That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy,

I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd
For me to try how all I know of it,
Is that Camillo was an honest man;

And why he left your court, the gods themselves,
Wotting no more than I, are ignorant.

LEON. You knew of his departure, as you know

What you have underta'en to do in 's 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.

LEON.

Your actions are my dreams; You had a bastard by Polixenes,

And I but dream'd it:-as you were past all shame,

(Those of your fact are so,) so past all truth;
Which to deny, concerns more than avails; 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.(1)

HER.
Sir, spare your threats;
The bug which you would fright me with, I seek.
To me can life be no commodity:

The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, I do give lost; for I do feel it gone,

е

But know not how it went: my second joy,
And first-fruits of my body, from his presence
I am barr'd, like one infectious: my third comfort,
Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast,
The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth,
Hal'd out to murder: myself on every post
Proclaim'd a strumpet; with immodest hatred,
The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs
To women of all fashion ;-lastly, hurried
Here to this place, i' the open air, before
I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,
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
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! (2)

1 LORD.

This your request
Is altogether just :-therefore, bring forth,
And in Apollo's name, his oracle.

[Exeunt certain Officers.
HER. The emperor of Russia was my father:
O, that he were alive, and here beholding
His daughter's trial! that he did but see
The flatness of my misery,—yet with eyes
Of pity, not revenge!

This is not remarkably perspicuous; the sense appears to be,By what unwarrantable familiarity have I lapsed, that I should be made to stand as a public criminal thus?

c in the level-] To be in the level is to be within the range or compass; and therefore when under his covert or pertision he is gotten within his levell and hath the Winde fit and certaine, then hee shall make choice of his marke," &c.-MARKHAM'S Hunger's Prevention, 1621, p. 45.

d (Those of your fact-] Those of your crime. Thus, ir "Pericles," Act IV. Sc. 3,

"Becoming well thy fact."

• in it most innocent mouth,—] See note (b), p. 214.

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 tardied
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 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!

In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
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,
And then run mad indeed,―stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 't was nothing,-
That did but show thee of a fool, inconstant
And damnabled ingrateful; nor was 't much,
Thou wouldst 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
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
Blemish'd his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer: but the last,-O, lords,

"and to the hazard

Of all incertainties himself commended,

No richer than his honour. How he glisters," &c.

e That did but show thee of a fool,-] Theobald proposed to read, "of a soul;" and Warburton, "show thee of, a fool;" but any change would be to destroy a form of speech characteristic of the author's time; "of a fool," is the same as "for a fool."

d And damnable ingrateful;] That is, "damnably ingrateful,"

If

1 LORD.
The higher powers forbid !
PAUL. I say, she's dead; I'll swear't.
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.

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

1 LORD.

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

PAUL. 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 the noble heart.-What's gone, and what's past help,

b

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 your patience to you,
And I'll say nothing.

LEON.
Thou didst speak but well,
When most the truth; which I receive much
better

Than to be pitied 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

SCENE III.-Bohemia. A desert Country near the Sea.

Enter ANTIGONUS with the Babe; and a Mariner

ANT. Thou art perfect then, our ship hath touch'd upon

The deserts of Bohemia?

MAR. 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, And frown upon us.

ANT. Their sacred wills be done!-Go, get aboard;

Look to thy bark; I'll not be long before
I call upon thee.

MAR. Make your best haste e; and go not
Too far i' the land: 't is like to be loud weather;
Besides, this place is famous for the creatures
Of prey that keep upon 't.
Go thou away:

ANT.

I'll follow instantly.

MAR.

ANT.

I am glad at heart To be so rid o' the business. [Exit. Come, poor babe:

I have heard (but not believ'd) the spirits o' the

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 ber head on one side, some, another;
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
Became two spouts: the fury spent, anon
Did this break from her: Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against thy better disposition,

d So fill'd, and so becoming:] Mr. Collier's annotator suggests, and Mr. Collier adopts, an alteration which at once destroys the meaning of the poet, and converts a beauteous image into one pre-eminently ludicrous:

"So fill'd, and so o'er-running"!

"So becoming" here means, so self-restrained: not as it is usually explained, so decent, or so dignified. Compare the following in "Romeo and Juliet," Act IV. Sc. 2,

"I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell;
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty."