You have not dar'd to break the holy seal,
Nor read the secrets, in't.
Cleo. Dion. All this we swear.
Leo. Break up the seals, and read.
Off. Hermione is chafte, Polixenes blameless, Camillo
trie Subject, Leontes a jealous Tyrant, bis innocent babe
thar which is loft be not found.
Lords. Now blessed be the great Apollo !
Leo. Haft thou read the truth?
Offi. Av, my Lord, even fo as here fet down.
Leo. There is no truth at all i'th Oracle;
The feffion shall proceed; this is meer falfhood.
Ser. My Lord the King, the King!
Leo. What is the business?
Ser. O Sir, I shall be hated to report it.
The Prince your fon, with meer conceit and fear
Of the Queen's speed, is gone.
Leo. How gone?
Ser. Is dead.
Leo. Apollo's angry, and the heav'ns themselves
Do strike at my injustice. How now there? [Her. faints.
Pau. This news is mortal to the Queen: look down
And fee what death is doing.
Her heart is but o'er-charg'd; the will recover.
[Exeunt Paulina and Ladies with Hermione.
I have too much believ'd mine own fufpicion :
'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 Camille,
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy.
For being transported by my jealoufies
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose
Camillo for the minifter to poifon
My friend Polixenes; which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
My swift command; tho' 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 guess
Unclasp'd my practice, quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great, and to the certain hazard
Of all incertainties himself commended,
No richer than his honour: how he glisters
Through my dark rust! and how his piety
Does my deeds make the blacker!
SCENE V. Enter Paulina..!!
Pau. Woe the while !
O cut my lace, left my heart, cracking it,
Break too.
Lord. Alas! What fit is this, good lady?
Pau. What studied torments, tyrant, haft for me?
What wheels? racks? fires? what flaying? boiling? burning
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 jealoufies
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine, Oh! 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, 'twas nothing,
That did but shew thee of a soul 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 cafting forth to crows thy baby-daughter,
To be, or none, or little; tho' a devil
Would have shed water out of fire, ere don'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 fire
Blemish'd his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer; but the laft, O Lords,
When I have faid, cry woe! the Queen, the Queen,
The sweeteft creature's dead; and vengeance for't
Not dropt down yet.
Lord. The higher powers forbid !
Pau. I say she's head: I'll swear't. If word, nor oath
Prevail not, go and fee: if you can bring
Tincture or luftre 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 vows 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.
Thou canft not speak too much, I have desery'd
All tongues to talk their bitterest.
Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault
I'th' boldness of your speech.
All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
I do repent: alas, I've shew'd too much
The rafhness of a woman; he is touch'd
To th' 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 loft too. Take you your patience to you,
Leo. 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 fon,
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 chappel where they lye, and tears shed there
Shall be my recreation. Long as nature
Changes to Bithynia. A defart Country; the Sea at a
Enter Antigonus with a Child, and a Mariner. Ant. Thou art perfect then, our ship hath touch'd upon The deferts of Bithynia?
We've landed in ill time: the skies look grimly,
And threaten present blusters. In my confcience,
The heav'ns with that we have in hand are angry,
And frown upon's.
Ant. Their facred wills be done! get thee aboard,
Look to thy bark, I'll not be long before
I call on thee,
Mar. Make your best haste, and go not
Too far i'th' land; 'tis like to be loud weather.
Befides, this place is famous for the creatures
Of prey that keep upon't.
Ant. Go thou away.
I'll follow instantly.
Mar. I'm glad at heart
To be fo rid o'th' business.
Ant. Come, poor babe;
I have heard, but not believ'd, the spirits o'th' dead
May walk again; if such thing be, thy n
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 fide, fome another,
I never faw a vessel of like forrow
So fill'd, and so becoming; in pure white robes,
Like very fanctity, she did approach
My cabin where I lay; thrice bow'd before me,
And, gafping 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 difpofition,
Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,
Places remote enough are in Bithynia,
There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe
Is counted loft for ever, Perdita
I pr'ythee call't. For this ungentle business
Put on thee by my Lord, thou ne'er shalt fee
Thy wife Paulina more. And fo, with shrieks,
She melted into air. Affrighted much,
I did in time collect my self, and thought
This was so, and no slumber: dreams are toys,
Yet for this once, yea, fuperftitioufly,
I will be squar'd by this. I do believe
Hermione hath fuffer'd death, and that
Apollo would, this being indeed the iffue
Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid,
Either for life or death, upon the earth
Of its right father. Bloffom, speed thee well!
There lye, and there thy character: there these,
Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty.one,
And still rest thine. The storm begins; poor wretch,
That for thy mother's fault art thus expos'd
To loss, and what may follow. Weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds: and most accurft am I
To be by oath enjoin'd to this. Farewel!
The day frowns more and more; thou art like to have
A lullaby too rough: I never faw
The heav'ns so dim by day. A favage clamour,
Well may I get aboard! this is the chace,
[Exit pursued by a bear.
SCENE VII. Enter an old Shepher 1.
Sbep. I would there were no
age between thirte n and three
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