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.

Leon. Hold your peaces.

1 Lord.

Good my lord,

Ant. It is for you we speak, not for ourselves. You are abused, and by some putter-on,

That will be damned for't; 'would I knew the villain,
I would land-damn him. Be she honor-flawed,-

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 honor,
I'll geld them all: fourteen they shall not see,
To bring false generations; they are coheirs;
And I had rather glib myself, than they
Should not produce fair issue.

Leon.

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.

Ant.

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.

Leon.

What, lack I credit?

1 Lord. I had rather you did lack, than I, my lord, upon this ground: and more it would content me

To have her honor true, than your suspicion;

Be blamed for't how you might.

Leon. 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 stupefied, Or seeming so in skill) cannot, or will not, Relish as truth, like us; inform yourselves. We need no more of your advice: the matter, The loss, the gain, the ordering on't, is all Properly ours.

Ant.

And I wish, my liege,
You had only in your silent judgment tried it,
Without more overture.

Leon.

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 touched conjecture,
That lacked sight only, nought for approbation,
But only seeing, all other circumstances

Made up to the 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 despatched in post,
To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple,

Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know

Of stuffed sufficiency. Now from the oracle
They will bring all; whose spiritual counsel, had,
Shall stop, or spur me. Have I done well?

1 Lord. Well done, my lord.

Leon. 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 the truth. So have we thought it good,
From our free person she should be confined;
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.

Ant. [Aside.] To laughter, as I take it,
If the good truth were known.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The same. The outer Room of a Prison.

Enter PAULINA and Attendants.

Paul. The keeper of the prison,-call to him;

[Exit an Attendant. Let him have knowledge who I am.-Good lady! No court in Europe is too good for thee; What dost thou then in prison?-Now, good sir,

Re-enter Attendant, with the Keeper.

You know me, do you not?

Keeper.

And one whom I much honor.

Paul.

Conduct me to the queen.

For a worthy lady,

Pray you, then,

Keep. I may not, madam; to the contrary I have express commandment.

Paul.

Here's ado,

To lock up honesty and honor from

The access of gentle visitors!Is it lawful,
Pray you, to see her women? any of them?
Emilia ?

Keep. So please you, madam, to put
Apart these your attendants, I shall bring
Emilia forth.

Paul. I pray now, call her. Withdraw yourselves.

Keep.

And, madam,

[Exeunt Attend.

[Exit Keeper.

I must be present at your conference.
Paul. Well, be it so, pr'ythee.
Here's such ado to make no stain a stain,
As passes coloring.

Re-enter Keeper, with EMILIA.

Dear gentlewoman, how fares our gracious lady?
Emil. As well as one so great, and so forlorn,
May hold together. On her frights and griefs
(Which never tender lady hath borne greater)
She is, something before her time, delivered.
Paul. A boy?

Emil.
A daughter; and a goodly babe,
Lusty, and like to live. The queen receives
Much comfort in't; says, My poor prisoner,
I am innocent as you.
Paul.

I dare be sworn.

These dangerous, unsafe lunes o' the king! beshrew them!
He must be told on't, and he shall; the office
Becomes a woman best; I'll take't upon me:
If I prove honey-mouthed, let my tongue blister;
And never to my red-looked anger be
The trumpet any more.-Pray you, Emilia,
Commend my best obedience to the queen;
If she dares trust me with her little babe,
Ill show't the king, and undertake to be
Her advocate to th' loudest. We do not know
How he may soften at the sight o' the child;
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades, when speaking fails.

Most worthy madam,

Emil.
Your honor, and your goodness, is so evident,
That your free undertaking cannot miss

A thriving issue; there is no lady living

So meet for this great errand. Please your ladyship
To visit the next room, I'll presently

Acquaint the queen of your most noble offer;
Who, but to-day, hammered of this design;
But durst not tempt a minister of honor,
Lest she should be denied.

Paul.

I'll use that tongue I have.
As boldness from my bosom,
I shall do good.
Emil.

Tell her, Emilia,

If wit flow from it,
let it not be doubted

Now be you blest for it!

I'll to the queen. Please you, come something nearer. Keep. Madam, if't please the queen to send the babe, I know not what I shall incur to pass it,

Having no warrant.

Paul.
You need not fear it, sir.
The child was prisoner to the womb; and is,
By law and process of great nature, thence
Freed and enfranchised: not a party to
The anger of the king; nor guilty of,
If any be, the trespass of the queen.
Keep. I do believe it.
Paul.

Do not you fear; upon
Mine honor, I will stand 'twixt you and danger. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. The same.

A Room in the Palace.

Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, Lords, and other Attendants.

Leon. Nor night, nor day, no rest. It is but weakness To bear the matter thus; mere weakness, if

The cause were not in being;-part o' the cause,
She, the adult'ress; - for the harlot king
Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank
And level of my brain, plot-proof: but she
I can hook to me. Say, that she were gone,
Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest
Might come to me again.- -Who's there?
1 Attend.

Leon. How does the boy? 1 Attend.

My lord! [Advancing.

He took good rest to-night;

"Tis hoped his sickness is discharged.

Leon.

His nobleness!

To see

Conceiving the dishonor of his mother,

He straight declined, drooped, took it deeply;
Fastened and fixed the shame on't in himself;
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
And downright languished.-Leave me solely;
See how he fares. [Exit Attend.]-Fie, fie! no thought
of him;-

The very thought of my revenges that way
Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty;
And in his parties, his alliance,-let him be,
Until a time may serve; for present vengeance,
Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes

go,

Laugh at me; make their pastime at my sorrow.
They should not laugh, if I could reach them; nor
Shall she, within my power.

1 Lord.

Enter PAULINA, with a Child.

You must not enter.

Paul. Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me. Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas,

Than the queen's life? a gracious, innocent soul;
More free, than he is jealous.

Ant.

That's enough.

1 Attend. Madam, he hath not slept to-night; com

manded

None should come at him.

Paul.
Not so hot, good sir;
I come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you,—
That creep like shadows by him, and do sigh
At each his needless heavings, such as you
Nourish the cause of his awaking: I

Do come with words as med'cinal as true;
Honest, as either; to purge him of that humor,
That presses him from sleep.

Leon.

What noise there, ho! Paul. No noise, my lord; but needful conference About some gossips for your highness.

Leon.

How?

Away with that audacious lady. Antigonus,

I charged thee, that she should not come about me;
I knew she would.

Ant.

I told her so, my lord,

On your displeasure's peril, and on mine,
She should not visit you.

Leon.

What, canst not rule her?

Paul. From all dishonesty, he can. In this,