The Winters Tale | Page 9

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