SCENE II. The same. A Court of Justice. LEONTES, Lords, and Officers, appear properly seated. Leon. This sessions (to our great grief, we pronounce) Of us too much beloved.-Let us be cleared Offi. It is his highness' pleasure, that the queen Appear in person here in court.-Silence! HERMIONE is brought in, guarded; PAULINA and Ladies, attending. Leon. Read the indictment. Offi. Hermione, queen to the worthy Leontes, king of Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned of high treason, in committing adultery with Polixenes, king of Bohemia; and conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord and king, thy royal husband; the pretence whereof being by circumstances partly laid open, thou, Hermione, contrary to the faith and allegiance of a true subject, didst counsel and aid them, for their better safety, to fly away by night. Her. Since what I am to say, must be but that Which contradicts my accusation; and The testimony on my part, no other But what comes from myself; it shall scarce boot me To say, Not guilty: mine integrity, Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it, Be so received. But thus,-If powers divine I doubt not, then, but innocence shall make Tremble at patience.-You, my lord, best know A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter, The mother to a hopeful prince-here standing Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it As I weigh grief, which I would spare; for honor, 'Tis a derivative from me to mine, And only that I stand for. I appeal To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes With what encounter so uncurrent I Have strained, to appear thus: if one jot beyond Leon. Her. Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me. That's true enough; More than mistress of, Leon. You will not own it. Her. Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not (With whom I am accused,) I do confess Which not to have done, I think, had been in me To you and toward your friend; whose love had spoke, I know not how it tastes; though it be dished Is, that Camillo was an honest man; And why he left your court, the gods themselves, Leon. You knew of his departure, as you know What you have underta'en to do in his absence. Her. Sir, You speak a language that I understand not. Leon. Your actions are my dreams; You had a bastard by Polixenes, As you were past all shame, (Those of your fact are so,) so past all truth; Shalt feel our justice; in whose easiest passage, Her. The crown and comfort of my life, your favor, But know not how it went. My second joy, Apollo be my judge. 1 Lord. [Exeunt certain Officers Her. The emperor of Russia was my father. Re-enter Officers, with CLEOMENES and DION. Offi. You here shall swear upon this sword of justice, Been both at Delphos; and from thence have brought Cleo. Dion. All this we swear. Leon. Break up the seals, and read. Offi. [Reads.] Hermione is chaste, Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true subject, Leontes a jealous tyrant, his innocent babe truly begotten; and the king shall live without an heir, if that, which is lost, be not found. Lords. Now blessed be the great Apollo! Leon. Hast thou read truth? Praised! Ay, my lord; even so Leon. There is no truth at all i' the oracle. The sessions shall proceed; this is mere falsehood. Enter a Servant, hastily. What is the business? Serv. My lord the king, the king! Of the queen's speed, is gone. Leon. Serv. Leon. Apollo's angry; and the Heavens themselves Do strike at my injustice. How! gone? Is dead. [HERMIONE faints. How now there? Take her hence; Paul. This news is mortal to the queen.-Look down, And see what death is doing. Leon. Her heart is but o'ercharged; she will recover.- Some remedies for life.-Apollo, pardon [Exeunt PAULINA and Ladies, with HERM. My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle!I'll reconcile me to Polixenes; New woo my queen; recall the good Camillo; For, being transported by my jealousies My friend Polixenes; which had been done, My swift command, though I with death, and with Not doing it, and being done: he, most humane, No richer than his honor.-How he glisters Paul. Re-enter PAULINA. Woe the while! O cut my lace; lest my heart, cracking it, 1 Lord. What fit is this, good lady? Paul.. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? What wheels? racks? fires? What flaying? boiling In leads or oils? What old, or newer torture Must I receive; whose every word deserves To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny Together working with thy jealousies,— Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle, For girls of nine! O, think what they have done, And then run mad, indeed; stark mad! for all Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing; That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant, And damnable ungrateful: nor was't much, Thou wouldst have poisoned good Camillo's honor, To have him kill a king; poor trespasses, More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter, To be or none, or little; though a devil Would have shed water out of fire, ere done't: Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death Of the young prince; whose honorable thoughts (Thoughts high for one so tender) cleft the heart That could conceive a gross and foolish sire Blemished his gracious dam; this is not, no, Laid to thy answer. But the last, O lords, |