And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd, Ant. Hang all the husbands, That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself Leon. Once more, take her hence. Paul. A most unworthy and unnatural lord Can do no more. Leon. I'll have thee burn'd. Paul. I care not: It is an heretick, that makes the fire, Not she, which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant; (Not able to produce more accusation Than your own weak-hing'd fancy,) something savours Leon. On your allegiance, Out of the chamber with her. Were I a tyrant, 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 So, so:-Farewell; we are gone. you. [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, Ant. I did not, sir: These lords, my noble fellows, if they please, 1 Lord. We can; my royal liege, He is not guilty of her coming hither. 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 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. 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 Ant. Any thing, my lord, That my ability may undergo, And nobleness impose: at least, thus much; 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; This female bastard hence; and that thou bear it Ant. I swear to do this, though a present death In more than this deed doth require !—and blessing, Poor thing, condemn'd to loss! Leon. No, I'll not rear Another's issue. [Exit, with the Child. 1 Atten. Please your highness, posts, From those you sent to the oracle, are come Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed, 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 truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords; [Exeunt. ACT III. 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. 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! Cleo. But, of all, the burst And the ear-deafening voice o'the oracle, Dion. If the event o'the journey Prove as successful to the queen,-O, be't so!— Cleo. Great Apollo, Turn all to the best! These proclamations, I little like. Dion. The violent carriage of it |