Th' abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his fides With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the
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 hath 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 eafily open?
Lord. By his great authority,
Which often hath no less prevail'd than fo
On your command.
Leo. I know't too well.
Give me the boy; I'm glad, you did not nurse him: Though he does bear fome signs of me, yet you Have too much blood in him.
Leo. Bear the Boy hence, he shall not come about
Away with him, and let her sport herself
With that she's big with: for 'tis Polixenes
Has made thee fwell thus.
Her. But I'd fay, he had not;
And, I'll be fworn, you would believe my faying, Howe'er you lean to th' nayward.
Look on her, mark her well; be but about
To fay, the 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: oh, I am out, -
That mercy do's; for calumny will fear
Virtue itself.) These shrugs, these hums, and ha's,
When you have faid she's goodly, come between,
Ere you can say she's honest: but be't known,
(From him, that has most cause to grieve it should
She's an adultress.
Her. 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.
Leo. 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
ht Betwixt the prince and beggar.-I have faid,
- She's an adultress; I have faid with whom:
More; she's a traitor, and Camillo is
A federary with her; and one that knows
The What she should shame to know herself,
But with her most vile Principal, that she's
A bed-fwerver, even as bad as those
That Vulgars give bold'st titles; ay, and privy
To this their late escape.
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 fay
In these foundations which I build upon,
The center is not big enough to bear
A school-boy's top. Away with her to prifon:
He, who shall speak for her, is far off guilty,
Her. There's fome 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 fex
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?
Her. Who is't, that goes with me? 'beseech your
My women may be with me, for, you fee,
My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools,
There is no cause; when you shall know, your mistress
Has deferv'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 fee you forry; now,
I trust, I shall. My women, -come, you've leave.
Leo. Go, do your bidding; hence.
[Exit Queen, guarded; and Ladies. Lord. 'Befcech your Highness call the Queen again. Ant. Be certain what you do, Sir, left your justice Prove violence; in the which three Great ones fuffer, Yourself, your Queen, your fon.
I dare my life lay down, and will do't, Sir,
Please you t'accept it, that the Queen is spotless
I'th' eyes of heaven, and to you, (I mean,
In this which you accufe her.)
Ant. If it prove
She's otherwise, I'll keep my stable-stand where
I lodge my wife, I'll go in couples with her:
'Than when I feel, and fee, no further trust her;
For every inch of woman in the world,
Ay, every dram of woman's flesh is false,
If the be.
Leo. Hold your peaces.
Lord. Good 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-damm him: be the honour-flaw'd,
I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven:
The fecond, and the third, nine, and fome five;
If this prove true, they'll pay for't. By mine honour,
I'll geld 'em all: fourteen they shall not fee,
To bring falfe generations; they are coheirs,
And I had rather glib myself, than they
Should not produce fair issue.
Leo. Cease; no more:
+ You smell this business with a fence as cold
As is a dead man's nose; I see't and feel't,
As you feel doing thus; and fee withal
The instruments that feel.
We need no grave to bury honesty;
There's not a grain of it, the face to sweeten
Of the whole dungy earth.
Leo. What? lack I credit?
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 fufpicion; Be blam'd for't, how you might.
Leo. Why, what need we
Commune with you of this? but rather follow
Our forceful instigation? our prerogative
Call not your counsels, but our natural goodness
Imparts this; which, if you, (or stupified,
Or feeming so, in skill,) cannot, or will not
Relish a truth like us; inform yourselves,
We need no more of your advice: the matter,
The lofs, the gain, the ordring on't, is all
Properly ours.
Ant. And I wish, my Liege,
You had only in your filent judgment try'd it,
Without more overture.
Leo. How could that be?
Either thou art most ignorant by age,
Or thou wert born a fool. Added to their familiarity,
(Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture, That lack'd fight only; nought for approbation, But only feeing; 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 dispatch'd in poft,
To facred Delphos, to Apoilo's temple,
Cleomines and Dion, whom you know
Of stuff'd fufficiency: Now, from the oracle
They will bring all: whose spiritual counsel had,
Shall stop, or spur me. Have I done well?
Lord. Well done, my Lord.
Leo. Tho' I am fatisfy'd, and need no more
Than what I know, yet shall the oracle
Give reft to th' minds of others; fuch 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;
Left 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 raife us all.
Ant. To laughter, as I take it,
If the good truth were known.
SCENE III.
Changes to a Prison.
Enter Paulina, and a Gentleman.
HE keeper of the prifon, call to him:
Let him have knowledge who I am.
[Exit Gentleman. Good lady,
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