Paul. So I would you did; then, 'twere past all doubt,

You'd call

Leon.

your children yours.

A nest of traitors!

Nor I; nor any,

Ant. I am none, by this good light.
Paul.
But one, that's here; and that's himself: for he
The sacred honor of himself, his queen's,

His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander,
Whose sting is sharper than the sword's; and will not
(For, as the case now stands, it is a curse
He cannot be compelled to't) once remove
The root of his opinion, which is rotten,
As ever oak, or stone, was sound.

Leon.

A callat,1

Of boundless tongue; who late hath beat her husband, And now baits me!-This brat is none of mine;

It is the issue of Polixenes.

Hence with it; and, together with the dam,
Commit them to the fire.

Paul.

It is yours;

And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge,
So like you, 'tis the worse.-Behold, my lords,
Although the print be little, the whole matter
of the father; eye, nose, lip,

And copy

The trick of his frown, his forehead; nay, the valley, The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek; his smiles; The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger :— And, thou, good goddess nature, which hast made it So like to him that got it, if thou hast

2

The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colors
No yellow in't; lest she suspect, as he does,
Her children not her husband's !

Leon.

A gross hag!

And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hanged,

That wilt not stay her tongue.

1 A callat is a trull.

2 "No yellow," the color of jealousy.

3 Lozel, a worthless fellow; one lost to all goodness from the Saxon losian, to perish, to be lost. Lorel, losel, losliche, are all of the same family.

It is a heretic that makes the fire,

I care not.

Not she which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant;
But this most cruel usage of your queen

(Not able to produce more accusation

Than your own weak-hinged fancy) something savors Of tyranny, and will ignoble make

Yea, scandalous to the world.

Leon.

Out of the chamber with her.

you,

On your allegiance,

Were I a tyrant,

Where were her life? She durst not call me so,
If she did know me one. Away with her.

Paul. I pray you, do not push me;
do not push me; I'll be gone.
Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis yours; Jove send her
A better guiding spirit !-What need these hands?—
You, that are thus so tender o'er his follies,
Will never do him good, not one of you.

So, so.-Farewell; we are gone.

[Exit

Leon. Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this.My child? Away with't!-Even thou, that hast A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence,

And see it instantly consumed with fire;

Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight.
Within this hour bring me word, 'tis done,

(And by good testimony,) or I'll seize thy life,
With what thou else call'st thine. If thou refuse,
And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so;
The bastard brains with these my proper hands
Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire;

For thou sett'st on thy wife.

Ant.

I did not, sir.

These lords, my noble fellows, if they please,
Can clear me in't.

1 Lord.

We can; my royal liege,

He is not guilty of her coming hither.

Leon. You are liars all.

1 Lord. 'Beseech your highness, give us better credit. We have always truly served you; and beseech

So to esteem of us; and on our knees we beg (As recompense of our dear services,

Past, and to come) that you do change this purpose; Which, being so horrible, so bloody, must

Lead on to some foul issue. We all kneel.

Leon. I am a feather for each wind that blows ;— Shall I live on, to see this bastard kneel

And call me father? Better burn it now,

Than curse it then. But, be it; let it live.
It shall not neither.-You, sir, come you hither;

[To ANTIGONUS.

You, that have been so tenderly officious
With lady Margery, your midwife, there,

To save this bastard's life,-for 'tis a bastard,

So sure as this beard's gray,'—what will you adventure To save this brat's life?

Ant.

Any thing, my lord,
That my ability may undergo,

And nobleness impose. At least, thus much;
I'll pawn the little blood which I have left,
To save the innocent: any thing possible.

Leon. It shall be possible. Swear by this sword, Thou wilt perform my bidding.

Ant.

I will, my lord.

Leon. Mark, and perform it; (seest thou?) for the

fail

Of any point in't shall not only be

Death to thyself, but to thy lewd-tongued wife;
Whom, for this time, we pardon. We enjoin thee,
As thou art liegeman to us, that thou carry
This female bastard hence; and that thou bear it

1 Leontes must mean the beard of Antigonus, which he may be supposed to touch. He himself tells us that twenty-three years ago he was unbreeched; of course his age must be under thirty, and his own beard would hardly be gray.

To some remote and desert place quite out
Of our dominions; and that there thou leave it,
Without more mercy, to its own protection,
And favor of the climate. As by strange fortune
It came to us, I do in justice charge thee,—
On thy soul's peril, and thy body's torture,-
That thou commend it strangely to some place,1
Where chance may nurse, or end it. Take it up.

Ant. I swear to do this, though a present death
Had been more merciful.-Come on, poor babe.
Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens
To be thy nurses! Wolves, and bears, they say,
Casting their savageness aside, have done
Like offices of pity.-Sir, be prosperous

In more than this deed doth require! and blessing,2
Against this cruelty, fight on thy side,

Poor thing, condemned to loss!3 [Exit, with the Child. No, I'll not rear

Leon.

Another's issue.

1 Attend.

Please your highness, posts,

From those you sent to the oracle, are come

An hour since. Cleomenes and Dion,

Being well arrived from Delphos, are both landed,
Hasting to the court.

1 Lord.

So please you, sir, their speed

Twenty-three days

Hath been beyond account.

Leon.

They have been absent. 'Tis good speed; foretells,
The great Apollo suddenly will have

The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords;
Summon a session, that we may arraign
Our most disloyal lady; for, as she hath
Been publicly accused, so shall she have
A just and open trial. While she lives,
My heart will be a burden to me.
And think upon my bidding.

Leave me;

[Exeunt.

1 i. e. commit it to some place as a stranger. To commend is to commit,

according to the old dictionaries.

2 i. e. the favor of Heaven.

3 i. e. to exposure, or to be lost or dropped.

ACT III.

SCENE 1. The same. A Street in some Town.

Enter CLEOMENES and DION.

Cleo. The climate's delicate; the air most sweet; Fertile the isle; the temple much surpassing

The common praise it bears.

Dion.

I shall report

For most it caught me-the celestial habits

(Methinks I so should term them) and the reverence Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice!

How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly

It was i' the offering!

Cleo.

But of all, the burst

And ear-deafening voice o' the oracle,

Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense,

That I was nothing.

Dion.

If the event o' the journey

Prove as successful to the queen,-O, be't so!-
As it hath been to us, rare, pleasant, speedy,

The time is worth the use on't.

Cleo.

Great Apollo,

Turn all to the best! These proclamations,

So forcing faults upon Hermione,

I little like.

Dion.

The violent carriage of it

Will clear, or end, the business. When the oracle

(Thus by Apollo's great divine sealed up) Shall the contents discover, something rare Even then will rush to knowledge.

horses!

And gracious be the issue!

-Go,-fresh

[Exeunt.

1 Warburton has remarked that the temple of Apollo was at Delphi, which was not an island. But Shakspeare little regarded geographical accuracy. He followed Green's Dorastus and Fawnia, in which it is called the isle of Delphos. There was a temple of Apollo in the isle of Delos