Cam.

None rare, my lord. Pel. 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 With customary compliment; when he, Wafting his eyes to the 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.

Cam. I dare not know, my lord.

Pol. 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,
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 it.

Cam.
There is a sickness
Which puts some of us in distemper; but
I cannot name the disease; and it is caught
Of you that yet are well.

Pel.

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,-
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
Thereof to be inform'd, imprison it not
In ignorant concealment.

| 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 The standing of his body.

Pol.
How should this grow?
Cam. 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
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' the city: For myself, I'll put
My fortunes to your service, which are here
By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain;
For, by the honour of my parents, I

Have uttered truth: which if you seek to prove,

I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer
Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth, thereon
His execution sworn.

I saw his heart in his 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
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
Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must

In that be made more bitter. Fear o'er-shades 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 ;

I will respect thee as a father, if

Thou bear'st my life off hence: Let us avoid.
Cam. It is in mine authority, to command
The keys of all the posterns: Please your highness
To take the urgent hour: Come, sir, away.

m

ACT II.

[Exe.

Come on, sit down :-Come on, and do your best

And give't me in mine ear.

Come on then,

Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords, and others. Leo. Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?

1 Lord. Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never Saw I men scower so on their way: I ey'd them Even to their ships.

Leo. How bless'd 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, And yet partake no venom; for his knowledge Is not infected: but if one present The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known How he hath drank, he cracks his gorge, his sides, With violent hefts:-I have drank, and seen the spider.

-Camillo was his help in this, his pander :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 Remain a pinch'd thing; yea, a very trick For them to play at will:-How came the posterns So easily open?

1 Lord.

By his great authority;

Which often hath no less prevail'd than so, On your command.

Should a like language use to all degrees,
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
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 titles; ay, and privy
To this their late escape.

Her.

There's some ill planet reigns: 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 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! Leo.

Shall I be heard? [To the Guardi Her. 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 mistres
Has deserv'd prison, then abound in tears,
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,
Leo. Go, do our bidding; hence.

[Exeunt Queen and Ladies 1 Lord. 'Beseech your highness, call the queen again. Ant. Be certain what you do, sir; lest your justice Prove violence; in the which three great ones suffer, Yourself, your queen, your son.

1 Lord.

For her, my lord,~

Ant. It is for you we speak, not for ourselves: 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;
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.

Why, what need we

1 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; Be blam'd for't how you might. Leo. 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 stupified, Or seeming so in skill,) cannot, or will not, Relish as truth, like us; inform yourselves, We need no more of your advice: the matter, The loss, the gain, the ordering on't, is all Properly ours.

Either thou art most ignorant by age,
Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight,

Added to their familiarity,

(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 the deed,) doth push on this proceeding:
Yet, for a greater confirmation,

(For, in an act of this importance, 'twere
Most piteous to be wild.) I have despatch'd in post,
To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple,
Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
Of stuff'd sufficiency: Now, from the oracle
They will bring all; whose spiritual counsel had,
Shall stop, or spur me. Have I done well?
1 Lord. Well done, my lord.

Les. Though I am satisfied, and need no more
Than what I know, yet shall the oracle

Come up to the truth: So have we thought it good,

From our free person she should be confin'd; Lest that the treachery of the two, fled hence, Be left her to perform. Come, follow us; We are to speak in public: for this business Will raise us all.

Ant.

[Aside.] To laughter, as I take it, If the good truth were known.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same. The outer Room of a Prison: Enter Paulina and Attendants.

Pau. The keeper of the prison,-call to him;

[Exit Keeper.

Pau. Well, be it so, pr'ythee.
Here's such ado to make no stain a stain,
As passes colouring.-

Re-enter Keeper, with Emília.
Dear gentlewoman, how fares our gracious lady?
Emil. 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.
Pau. A boy?

Emil. 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. Pau.

I dare be sworn :

These dangerous unsafe lunes o' the king! beshrew

them!

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,
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' loudest: We do not know
How he may soften at the sight o' the child;
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades, when speaking fails.

Emil.
Most worthy madain,
Your honour, and your goodness, is so evident,

Now be you blest for it!

I'll to the queen: Please you, come something nearer.
Keep. Madam, if't please the queen to send the babe,
I know not what I shall incur, to pass it,
Having no warrant.

Pau.
You need not fear it, sir:
The child was prisoner to the womb; and is,
By law and process of great nature, thence
Freed and enfranchis'd: not a party to
The anger of the king; nor guilty of,

If any be, the trespass of the queen.
Keep. I do believe it.

Pau.

Do not you fear: upon Mine honour, I will stand 'twixt you and danger.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same. A Room in the Palace. Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords, and other Attend

ants.

Leo. 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' the cause, She, the adultress ;-for the harlot king Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank 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.-Who's there?

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;
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
And downright languish`d.-Leave me solely :-go,
See how he fares. [Exit Atten.]--Fie, fie! no thought
of him ;-

The very thought of my revenges that way
Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty;
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
Shall she, within my power.

Enter, Paulina, with a Child.

None should come at him.

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
Nourish the cause of his awaking: I

Do come with words as med'cinal as true;
Honest, as either; to purge him of that humour,
That presses him from sleep.
Leo.

What noise there, ho? Pau. No noise, my lord; but needful conference, About some gossips for your highness.

And would by combat make her good, so were I A man, the worst about you.

Leo. Force her hence. Pau. 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; Here 'tis ; commends it to your blessing.

Leo.

[Laying down the child. Out!

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou

For ever

Tak'st up the princess, by that forced baseness

Which he has put upon't!

Leo.

He dreads his wife.

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

doubt,

You'd call your children yours.

Leo.

A nest of traitors!

Ant. I am none, by this good light.