Section 3:
ACT II, SCENE I Sicilia. A Room in the Palace.

[Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, and Ladies.]

HERMIONE.:

Take the boy to you: he so troubles me,

'Tis past enduring.

FIRST LADY.:

Come, my gracious lord,

Shall I be your playfellow?

MAMILLIUS.:

No, I'll none of you.

FIRST LADY.:

Why, my sweet lord?

MAMILLIUS.:

You'll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if

I were a baby still.—I love you better.

SECOND LADY.:

And why so, my lord?

MAMILLIUS.:

Not for because

Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say,

Become some women best; so that there be not

Too much hair there, but in a semicircle

Or a half-moon made with a pen.

SECOND LADY.:

Who taught you this?

MAMILLIUS.:

I learn'd it out of women's faces.—Pray now,

What colour are your eyebrows?

FIRST LADY.:

Blue, my lord.

MAMILLIUS.:

Nay, that's a mock: I have seen a lady's nose

That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.

FIRST LADY.:

Hark ye:

The queen your mother rounds apace. We shall

Present our services to a fine new prince

One of these days; and then you'd wanton with us,

If we would have you.

SECOND LADY.:

She is spread of late

Into a goodly bulk: good time encounter her!

HERMIONE.:

What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now

I am for you again: pray you sit by us,

And tell's a tale.

MAMILLIUS.:

Merry or sad shall't be?

HERMIONE.:

As merry as you will.

MAMILLIUS.:

A sad tale's best for winter. I have one

Of sprites and goblins.

HERMIONE.:

Let's have that, good sir.

Come on, sit down;—come on, and do your best

To fright me with your sprites: you're powerful at it.

MAMILLIUS.:

There was a man,—

HERMIONE.:

Nay, come, sit down: then on.

MAMILLIUS.:

Dwelt by a churchyard:—I will tell it softly;

Yond crickets shall not hear it.

HERMIONE.:

Come on then,

And give't me in mine ear.

[Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, Lords, and Guards.]

LEONTES.:

Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?

FIRST LORD.:

Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never

Saw I men scour so on their way: I ey'd them

Even to their ships.

LEONTES.:

How bles'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 drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,

With violent hefts;—I have drunk, 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?

FIRST LORD.:

By his great authority;

Which often hath no less prevail'd than so,

On your command.

LEONTES.:

I know't too well.—

Give me the boy:—I am glad you did not nurse him:

Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you

Have too much blood in him.

HERMIONE.:

What is this? sport?

LEONTES.:

Bear the boy hence; he shall not come about her;

Away with him!—and let her sport herself

[Exit MAMILLIUS, with some of the Guards.]

With that she's big with;—for 'tis Polixenes

Has made thee swell thus.

HERMIONE.:

But I'd say he had not,

And I'll be sworn you would believe my saying,

Howe'er you learn the nayward.

LEONTES.:

You, my lords,

Look on her, mark her well; be but about

To say, 'she is a goodly lady' and

The justice of your hearts will thereto add,

''Tis pity she's not honest, honourable':

Praise her but for this her without-door form,—

Which, on my faith, deserves high speech,—and straight

The shrug, the hum or ha,—these petty brands

That calumny doth use:—O, I am out,

That mercy does; for calumny will sear

Virtue itself:—these shrugs, these hum's, and ha's,

When you have said 'she's goodly,' come between,

Ere you can say' she's honest': but be it known,

From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,

She's an adultress!

HERMIONE.:

Should a villain say so,

The most replenish'd villain in the world,

He were as much more villain: you, my lord,

Do but mistake.

LEONTES.:

You have mistook, my lady,

Polixenes for Leontes: O thou thing,

Which I'll not call a creature of thy place,

Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,

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 boldest titles; ay, and privy

To this their late escape.

HERMIONE.:

No, by my life,

Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you,

When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that

You thus have publish'd me! Gentle my lord,

You scarce can right me throughly then, to say

You did mistake.

LEONTES.:

No; if I mistake

In those foundations which I build upon,

The centre is not big enough to bear

A school-boy's top.—Away with her to prison!

He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty

But that he speaks.

HERMIONE.:

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!

LEONTES.:

[To the GUARD.] Shall I be heard?

HERMIONE.:

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 mistress

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.

LEONTES.:

Go, do our bidding; hence!

[Exeunt QUEEN and Ladies, with Guards.]

FIRST LORD.:

Beseech your highness, call the queen again.

ANTIGONUS.:

Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice

Prove violence, in the which three great ones suffer,

Yourself, your queen, your son.

FIRST LORD.:

For her, my lord,—

I dare my life lay down,—and will do't, sir,

Please you to accept it,—that the queen is spotless

I' the eyes of heaven and to you; I mean

In this which you accuse her.

ANTIGONUS.:

If it prove

She's otherwise, I'll keep my stables where

I lodge my wife; I'll go in couples with her;

Than when I feel and see her no further trust her;

For every inch of woman in the world,

Ay, every dram of woman's flesh is false,

If she be.

LEONTES.:

Hold your peaces.

FIRST LORD.:

Good my lord,—

ANTIGONUS.:

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.

LEONTES.:

Cease; no more.

You smell this business with a sense as cold

As is a dead man's nose: but I do see't and feel't

As you feel doing thus; and see withal

The instruments that feel.

ANTIGONUS.:

If it be so,

We need no grave to bury honesty;

There's not a grain of it the face to sweeten

Of the whole dungy earth.

LEONTES.:

What! Lack I credit?

FIRST 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.

LEONTES.:

Why, what need we

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 a truth, like us, inform yourselves

We need no more of your advice: the matter,

The loss, the gain, the ord'ring on't, is all

Properly ours.

ANTIGONUS.:

And I wish, my liege,

You had only in your silent judgment tried it,

Without more overture.

LEONTES.:

How could that be?

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 th' 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?

FIRST LORD.:

Well done, my lord,—

LEONTES.:

Though I am satisfied, and need no more

Than what I know, yet shall the oracle

Give rest to the minds of others such as he

Whose ignorant credulity will not

Come up to th' 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.

ANTIGONUS.:

[Aside.] To laughter, as I take it,

If the good truth were known.

[Exeunt.]