 | The Winters Tale |  |
Actus Tertius.
Scena Prima.
Enter Cleomines and Dion.Cleo.
The Clymat's delicate, the Ayre most sweet,
Fertile the Isle, the Temple much surpassing
The common prayse it beares.
Dion.
I shall report,
For most it caught me, the Celestiall Habits,
(Me thinkes I so should terme them) and the reuerence
Of the graue Wearers. O, the Sacrifice,
How ceremonious, solemne, and vn-earthly
It was i'th'Offring?
Cleo.
But of all, the burst
And the eare-deaff'ning Voyce o'th'Oracle,
Kin to Ioues Thunder, so surpriz'd my Sence,
That I was nothing.
Dio.
If th'euent o'th'Iourney
Proue as successefull to the Queene (O be't so)
As it hath beene to vs, rare, pleasant, speedie,
The time is worth the vse on't.
Cleo.
Great Apollo
Turne all to th'best: these Proclamations,
So forcing faults vpon Hermione,
I little like.
Dio.
The violent carriage of it
Will cleare, or end the Businesse, when the Oracle
(Thus by Apollo's great Diuine seal'd vp)
Shall the Contents discouer: something rare
Euen then will rush to knowledge. Goe: fresh Horses,
And gracious be the issue.
Exeunt.
Scœna Secunda.
Enter Leontes, Lords, Officers: Hermione (as to her Triall) Ladies: Cleomines, Dion.Leo.
This Sessions (to our great griefe we pronounce)
Euen pushes' gainst our heart. The partie try'd,
The Daughter of a King, our Wife, and one
Of vs too much belou'd. Let vs be clear'd
Of being tyrannous, since we so openly
Proceed in Iustice, which shall haue due course,
Euen to the Guilt, or the Purgation:
Produce the Prisoner.
Officer.
It is his Highnesse pleasure, that the Queene
Appeare in person, here in Court.
Silence.
Leo.
Reade the Indictment.
Officer.
Hermione, Queene 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 Soueraigne
Lord the King, thy Royall Husband: the pretence whereof
being by circumstances partly layd open, thou (Hermione) contrary
to the Faith and Allegeance of a true Subiect didst counsaile
and ayde them, for their better safetie, to flye away by
Night.
Her.
Since what I am to say, must be but that
Which contradicts my Accusation, and
The testimonie on my part, no other
But what comes from my selfe, it shall scarce boot me
To say, Not guiltie: mine Integritie
Being counted Falsehood, shall (as I expresse it)
Be so receiu'd. But thus, if Powres Diuine
Behold our humane Actions (as they doe)
I doubt not then, but Innocence shall make
False Accusation blush, and Tyrannie
Tremble at Patience. You (my Lord) best know
(Whom least will seeme to doe so) my past life
Hath beene as continent, as chaste, as true,
As I am now vnhappy; which is more
Then Historie can patterne, though deuis'd,
And play'd, to take Spectators. For behold me,
A Fellow of the Royall Bed, which owe
A Moitie of the Throne: a great Kings Daughter,
The Mother to a hopefull Prince, here standing
To prate and talke for Life, and Honor, fore
Who please to come, and heare. For Life, I prize it
As I weigh Griefe (which I would spare:) For Honor,
'Tis a deriuatiue from me to mine,
And onely that I stand for. I appeale
To your owne Conscience (Sir) before Polixenes
Came to your Court, how I was in your grace,
How merited to be so: Since he came,
With what encounter so vncurrant, I
Haue strayn'd t'appeare thus; if one iot beyond
The bound of Honor, or in act, or will
That way enclining, hardned be the hearts
Of all that heare me, and my neer'st of Kin
Cry fie vpon my Graue.
Leo.
I ne're heard yet,
That any of these bolder Vices wanted
Lesse Impudence to gaine-say what they did,
Then to performe it first.
Her.
That's true enough,
Though 'tis a saying (Sir) not due to me.
Leo.
You will not owne it.
Her.
More then Mistresse of,
Which comes to me in name of Fault, I must not
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes
(With whom I am accus'd) I doe confesse
I lou'd him, as in Honor he requir'd:
With such a kind of Loue, as might become
A Lady like me; with a Loue, euen such,
So, and no other, as your selfe commanded:
Which, not to haue done, I thinke had been in me
Both Disobedience, and Ingratitude
To you, and toward your Friend, whose Loue had spoke,
Euen since it could speake, from an Infant, freely,
That it was yours. Now for Conspiracie,
I know not how it tastes, though it be dish'd
For me to try how: All I know of it,
Is, that Camillo was an honest man;
And why he left your Court, the Gods themselues
(Wotting no more then I) are ignorant.
Leo.
You knew of his departure, as you know
What you haue vnderta'ne to doe in's absence.
Sir,
You speake a Language that I vnderstand not:
My Life stands in the leuell of your Dreames,
Which Ile lay downe.
Leo.
Your Actions are my Dreames.
You had a Bastard by Polixenes,
And I but dream'd it: As you were past all shame,
(Those of your Fact are so) so past all truth;
Which to deny, concernes more then auailes: for as
Thy Brat hath been cast out, like to it selfe,
No Father owning it (which is indeed
More criminall in thee, then it) so thou
Shalt feele our Iustice; in whose easiest passage,
Looke for no lesse then death.
Her.
Sir, spare your Threats:
The Bugge which you would fright me with, I seeke:
To me can Life be no commoditie;
The crowne and comfort of my Life (your Fauor)
I doe giue lost, for I doe feele it gone,
But know not how it went. My second Ioy,
And first fruits of my body, from his presence
I am bar'd, like one infectious. My third comfort
(Star'd most vnluckily) is from my breast
(The innocent milke in it most innocent mouth)
Hal'd out to murther. My selfe on euery Post
Proclaym'd a Strumpet: With immodest hatred
The Child-bed priuiledge deny'd, which longs
To Women of all fashion. Lastly, hurried
Here, to this place, i'th'open ayre, before
I haue got strength of limit. Now (my Liege)
Tell me what blessings I haue here aliue,
That I should feare to die? Therefore proceed:
But yet heare this: mistake me not: no Life,
(I prize it not a straw) but for mine Honor,
Which I would free: if I shall be condemn'd
Vpon surmizes (all proofes sleeping else,
But what your Iealousies awake) I tell you
'Tis Rigor, and not Law Your Honors all,
I doe referre me to the Oracle:
Apollo be my Iudge.
Lord.
This your request
Is altogether iust: therefore bring forth
(And in Apollo's Name) his Oracle.
Her.
The Emperor of Russia was my Father.
Oh that he were aliue, and here beholding
His Daughters Tryall: that he did but see
The flatnesse of my miserie; yet with eyes
Of Pitty, not Reuenge.
Officer.
You here shal sweare vpon this Sword of Iustice,
That you (Cleomines and Dion) haue
Been both at Delphos, and from thence haue brought
This seal'd-vp Oracle, by the Hand deliuer'd
Of great Apollo's Priest; and that since then,
You haue not dar'd to breake the holy Seale,
Nor read the Secrets in't.
Cleo Dio.
All this we sweare.
Leo.
Breake vp the Seales, and read.
Officer.
Hermione is chast, Polixenes blamelesse, Camillo
a true Subiect, Leontes a iealous Tyrant, his innocent Babe
truly begotten, and the King shall liue without an Heire, if that
which is lost, be not found.
Lords.
Now blessed be the great Apollo.
Her.
Praysed.
Leo.
Hast thou read truth?
Offic.
I (my Lord) euen so as it is here set downe.
Leo.
There is no truth at all i'th'Oracle:
The Sessions shall proceed: this is meere falsehood.
Ser.
My Lord the King: the King?
Leo.
What is the businesse?
Ser.
O Sir, I shall be hated to report it.
The Prince your Sonne, with meere conceit, and feare
Of the Queenes speed, is gone.
Leo.
How? gone?
Ser.
Is dead.
Leo.
Apollo's angry, and the Heauens themselues
Doe strike at my Iniustice. How now there?
Paul.
This newes is mortall to the Queene: Look downe
And see what Death is doing.
Leo.
Take her hence:
Her heart is but o're-charg'd: she will recouer.
I haue too much beleeu'd mine owne suspition:
'Beseech you tenderly apply to her
Some remedies for life. Apollo pardon
My great prophanenesse 'gainst thine Oracle.
Ile reconcile me to Polixenes,
New woe my Queene, recall the good Camillo
(Whom I proclaime a man of Truth, of Mercy:)
For being transported by my Iealousies
To bloody thoughts, and to reuenge, I chose
Camillo for the minister, to poyson
My friend Polixenes: which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
My swift command: though I with Death, and with
Reward, did threaten and encourage him,
Not doing it, and being done: he (most humane,
And fill'd with Honor) to my Kingly Guest
Vnclasp'd my practise, quit his fortunes here
(Which you knew great) and to the hazard
Of all Incertainties, himselfe commended,
No richer then his Honor: How he glisters
Through my Rust? and how his Pietie
Do's my deeds make the blacker?
Paul.
Woe the while:
O cut my Lace, least my heart (cracking it)
Breake too.
Lord.
What fit is this? good Lady?
Paul.
What studied torments (Tyrant) hast for me?
What Wheeles? Racks? Fires? What flaying? boyling?
In Leads, or Oyles? What old, or newer Torture
Must I receiue? whose euery word deserues
To taste of thy most worst. Thy Tyranny
(Together working with thy Iealousies,
Fancies too weake for Boyes, too greene and idle
For Girles of Nine) O thinke what they haue done,
And then run mad indeed: starke-mad: for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betrayed'st Polixenes, 'twas nothing,
(That did but shew thee, of a Foole, inconstant,
And damnable ingratefull:) Nor was't much.
Thou would'st haue poyson'd good Camillo's Honor,
To haue him kill a King: poore Trespasses,
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to Crowes, thy Baby-daughter,
To be or none, or little; though a Deuill
Would haue shed water out of fire, ere don't:
Nor is't directly layd to thee, the death
Of the young Prince, whose honorable thoughts
(Thoughts high for one so tender) cleft the heart
That could conceiue a grosse and foolish Sire
Blemish'd his gracious Dam: this is not, no,
Layd to thy answere: but the last. O Lords,
When I haue said, cry woe: the Queene, the Queene,
Not so drop'd downe yet.
Lord.
The higher powres forbid.
Pau.
I say she's dead: Ile swear't. If word, nor oath
Preuaile not, go and see: if you can bring
Tincture, or lustre in her lip, her eye
Heate outwardly, or breath within, Ile serue you
As I would do the Gods. But, O thou Tyrant,
Do not repent these things, for they are heauier
Then all thy woes can stirre: therefore betake thee
To nothing but dispaire. A thousand knees,
Ten thousand yeares together, naked, fasting,
Vpon a barren Mountaine, and still Winter
In storme perpetuall, could not moue the Gods
To looke that way thou wer't.
Leo.
Go on, go on:
Thou canst not speake too much, I haue deseru'd
All tongues to talke their bittrest.
Lord.
Say no more;
How ere the businesse goes, you haue made fault
I'th boldnesse of your speech.
Pau.
I am sorry for't;
All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
I do repent: Alas, I haue shew'd too much
The rashnesse of a woman: he is toucht
To th'Noble heart. What's gone, and what's past helpe
Should be past greefe: Do not receiue affliction
At my petition; I beseech you, rather
Let me be punish'd, that haue minded you
Of what you should forget. Now (good my Liege)
Sir, Royall Sir forgiue a foolish woman:
The loue I bore your Queene (Lo, foole againe)
Ile speake of her no more, nor of your Children:
Ile not remember you of my owne Lord,
(Who is lost too:) take your patience to you,
And Ile say nothing.
Leo.
Thou didst speake but well,
When most the truth: which I receyue much better,
Then to be pittied of thee. Prethee bring me
To the dead bodies of my Queene, and Sonne,
One graue shall be for both: Vpon them shall
The causes of their death appeare (vnto
Our shame perpetuall) once a day, Ile visit
The Chappell where they lye, and teares shed there
Shall be my recreation. So long as Nature
Will beare vp with this exercise, so long
I dayly vow to vse it. Come, and leade me
To these sorrowes.
Exeunt
Scæna Tertia.
Enter Antigonus, a Marriner, Babe, Sheepeheard, and Clowne.Ant.
Thou art perfect then, our ship hath toucht vpon
The Desarts of Bohemia.
Mar.
I (my Lord) and feare
We haue Landed in ill time: the skies looke grimly,
And threaten present blusters. In my conscience
The heauens with that we haue in hand, are angry,
And frowne vpon's.
Ant.
Their sacred wil's be done: go get a-boord,
Looke to thy barke, Ile not be long before
I call vpon thee.
Mar.
Make your best haste, and go not
Too-farre i'th Land: 'tis like to be lowd weather,
Besides this place is famous for the Creatures
Of prey, that keepe vpon't.
Antig.
Go thou away,
Ile follow instantly.
Mar.
I am glad at heart
To be so ridde o'th businesse.
Exit
Ant.
Come, poore babe;
I haue heard (but not beleeu'd) the Spirits o'th'dead
May walke againe: if such thing be, thy Mother
Appear'd to me last night: for ne're was dreame
So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head on one side, some another,
I neuer saw a vessell of like sorrow
So fill'd, and so becomming: in pure white Robes
Like very sanctity she did approach
My Cabine where I lay: thrice bow'd before me,
And (gasping to begin some speech) her eyes
Became two spouts; the furie spent, anon
Did this breake from her. Good Antigonus,
Since Fate (against thy better disposition)
Hath made thy person for the Thower-out
Of my poore babe, according to thine oath,
Places remote enough are in Bohemia,
There weepe, and leaue it crying: and for the babe
Is counted lost for euer, Perdita
I prethee call't: For this vngentle businesse
Put on thee, by my Lord, thou ne're shalt see
Thy Wife Paulina more: and so, with shriekes
She melted into Ayre. Affrighted much,
I did in time collect my selfe, and thought
This was so, and no slumber: Dreames, are toyes,
Yet for this once, yea superstitiously,
I will be squar'd by this. I do beleeue
Hermione hath suffer'd death, and that
Apollo would (this being indeede the issue
Of King Polixenes) it should heere be laide
(Either for life, or death) vpon the earth
Of it's right Father. Blossome, speed thee well,
There lye, and there thy charracter: there these,
Which may if Fortune please, both breed thee (pretty)
And still rest thine. The storme beginnes, poore wretch,
That for thy mothers fault, art thus expos'd
To losse, and what may follow. Weepe I cannot,
But my heart bleedes: and most accurst am I
To be by oath enioyn'd to this. Farewell,
The day frownes more and more: thou'rt like to haue
A lullabie too rough: I neuer saw
The heauens so dim, by day. A sauage clamor?
Well may I get a-boord: This is the Chace,
I am gone foreuer.
Exit pursued by a Beare.
Shep.
I would there were no age betweene ten and
three and twenty, or that youth would sleep out the rest:
for there is nothing (in the betweene) but getting wenches
with childe, wronging the Auncientry, stealing,
fighting, hearke you now: would any but these boylde-braines
of nineteene, and two and twenty hunt this weather?
They haue scarr'd away two of my best Sheepe,
which I feare the Wolfe will sooner finde then the Maister;
if any where I haue them, 'tis by the sea-side, brouzing
of Iuy. Good-lucke (and't be thy will) what haue
we heere? Mercy on's, a Barne? A very pretty barne; A
boy, or a Childe I wonder? (A pretty one, a verie prettie
one) sure some Scape; Though I am not bookish, yet I
beene some staire-worke, some Trunke-worke, some behinde-doore
worke: they were warmer that got this,
then the poore Thing is heere. Ile take it vp for pity, yet
Ile carry till my sonne come: he hallow'd but euen now.
Whoa-ho-hoa.
Enter Clowne.
Clo.
Hilloa, loa.
Shep.
What? art so neere? If thou'lt see a thing to
talke on, when thou art dead and rotten, come hither:
what ayl'st thou, man?
Clo.
I haue seene two such sights, by Sea & by Land:
but I am not to say it is a Sea, for it is now the skie, betwixt
the Firmament and it, you cannot thrust a bodkins
point.
Shep.
Why boy, how is it?
Clo.
I would you did but see how it chafes, how it rages,
how it takes vp the shore, but that's not to the point:
Oh, the most pitteous cry of the poore soules, sometimes
to see 'em, and not to see 'em: Now the Shippe boaring
the Moone with her maine Mast, and anon swallowed
with yest and froth, as you'ld thrust a Corke into a hogshead.
And then for the Land-seruice, to see how the
Beare tore out his shoulder-bone, how he cride to mee
for helpe, and said his name was Antigonus, a Nobleman:
But to make an end of the Ship, to see how the Sea flapdragon'd
it: but first, how the poore soules roared, and
the sea mock'd them: and how the poore Gentleman roared,
and the Beare mock'd him, both roaring lowder
then the sea, or weather.
Shep.
Name of mercy, when was this boy?
Clo.
Now, now: I haue not wink'd since I saw these
sights: the men are not yet cold vnder water, nor the
Beare halfe din'd on the Gentleman: he's at it now.
Shep.
Would I had bin by, to haue help'd the olde
man.
Clo.
I would you had beene by the ship side, to haue
help'd her; there your charity would haue lack'd footing.
Shep.
Heauy matters, heauy matters: but looke thee
heere boy. Now blesse thy selfe: thou met'st with things
dying, I with things new borne. Here's a sight for thee:
Looke thee, a bearing-cloath for a Squires childe: looke
thee heere, take vp, take vp (Boy:) open't: so, let's see, it
was told me I should be rich by the Fairies. This is some
Changeling: open't: what's within, boy?
Clo.
You're a mad olde man: If the sinnes of your
youth are forgiuen you, you're well to liue. Golde, all
Gold.
Shep.
This is Faiery Gold boy, and 'twill proue so: vp
with't, keepe it close: home, home, the next way. We
are luckie (boy) and to bee so still requires nothing but
secrecie. Let my sheepe go: Come (good boy) the next
way home.
Clo.
Go you the next way with your Findings, Ile go
see if the Beare bee gone from the Gentleman, and how
much he hath eaten; they are neuer curst but when they
are hungry: if there be any of him left, Ile bury it.
Shep.
That's a good deed: if thou mayest discerne by
that which is left of him, what he is, fetch me to th'sight
of him.
Clo.
'Marry will I: and you shall helpe to put him
i'th'ground.
Shep.
'Tis a lucky day, boy, and wee'l do good deeds
on't
Exeunt
| The Winters Tale | |