A most intelligencing bawd!

Paul.

Not so:

I am as ignorant in that, as you

In so entitling me: and no less honest

Than you are mad; which is enough, I'll warrant, As this world goes, to pass for honest,

Traitors!

Leon. Will you not push her out? Give her the bastard :Thou dotard, [To Antigonus] thou art woman-tir'd*, unroosted

By thy dame Partlet here,-take up the bastard; Take't up, I say; give't to thy crone†.

Paul.

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou

For ever

Tak'st up the princess, by that forced baseness Which he has put upon't!

Leon.

He dreads his wife.

Paul. So I would you did; then, 'twere past all

doubt,

You'd call your children yours.

Leon.

A nest of traitors !

Ant. I am none, by this good light. Paul. 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, Whose sting is sharper than the sword's; and will

not

(For, as the case now stands, it is a curse
He cannot be compelled to't) once remove
The root of his opinion, which is rotten
As ever oak, or stone, was sound.

Leon.

A callat §,

Of boundless tongue; who late hath beat her hus

band,

And now baits me !-This brat is none of mine;

* Pecked by a woman; hen-pecked.

+ Worn-out old woman.

Forced is false; uttered with violence to truth.

§ Trull.

It is the issue of Polixenes:

Hence with it; and, together with the dam,
Commit them to the fire.

Paul.

It is yours;

And, might we lay the 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 his frown, his forehead: nay, the valley,
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 it So like to him that got it, if thou hast

The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours No yellow* in't; lest she suspect, as he does, Her children not her husband's!

Leon.

A gross hag!And, lozel+! thou art worthy to be hang'd, That wilt not stay her tongue.

Ant.

That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself

Hardly one subject.

Leon.

Hang all the husbands

Once more, take her hence.

Paul. A most unworthy and unnatural lord Can do no more.

Leon.

Paul.

I'll have thee burn'd.

It is an heretick, that makes the fire,

I care not:

Not she, which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant ; 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.

Leon:

On your allegiance,

Out of the chamber with her. Were I a tyrant,

*The colour of jealousy.

+Worthless fellow,

Where were her life? she durst not call me so,
If she did know me one. Away with her.

Paul. I pray you, do not push me; I'll be gone. Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis yours: Jove send her

A better guiding spirit!-What need 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.

Leon. 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 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;
For thou sett'st on thy wife.

Ant.

I did not, sir; These lords, my noble fellows, if they please, Can clear me in't.

1 Lord.

We can; my royal liege,

He is not guilty of her coming hither.
Leon. You are liars all.

1 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 recompence of our dear services,

Past, and to come), that you do change this pur

pose;

Which, being so horrible, so bloody, must

Lead on to some foul issue: We all kneel.

Leon. 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.-You, sir, come you hither;
[To Antigonus.

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 adven-

ture

To save this brat's life?

Ant.

Any thing, 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: any thing possible.

Leon. It shall be possible: Swear by this sword*, Thou wilt perform my bidding.

Ant.

I will, my lord. Leon. 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 its 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 placet,
Where chance may nurse, or end it: Take it up.

Ant. 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

* It was anciently a practice to swear by the cross at the hilt of a sword.

+i.e. Commit it to some place as a stranger.

Like offices of pity.-Sir, be prosperous
In more than this deed doth require! and blessing,
Against this cruelty, fight on thy side,

Poor thing, condemned to loss!

Leon.

Another's issue.

1 Atten.

[Exit with the child.

No, I'll not rear

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.

1 Lord.

So please you, sir, their speed

Hath been beyond account.

Leon.

Twenty-three days They have been absent: "Tis good speed; foretels, 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 publickly accus'd, so shall she have
A just and open trial. While she lives,
My heart will be a burden to me.
And think upon my bidding.

ACT III.

Leave me ;

[Exeunt.

SCENE I. The same. A street in some Town.

Enter Cleomenes and Dion.

Cleo. The climate's delicate; the air most sweet; Fertile the isle; the temple much surpassing

The common praise it bears.

I shall report,

Dion.
For most it caught me, the celestial habits

(Methinks, I so should term them), and the reve

rence

Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice!
How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly