In that be made more bitter. Fear o'er-shades me: Good expedition be my friend, and comfort

The gracious queen; part of his theam; but nothing Of his ill-ta'en suspicion! Come, Camillo,

I will respect thee as a father, if

Thou bear'st my life off hence. Let us avoid.

Cam. It is in mine authority, to command

The keys of all the posterns: Please your highness To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away. Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE 1.

The Palace. Enter HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, and Ladies.

Hermione.

TAKE the boy to you: he so troubles me,

'Tis past enduring.

1 Lady. Come, my gracious lord,

Shall I be your play-fellow ?

Mam. No, I'll none of you.

1 Lady. Why, my sweet lord?

Mam. You'll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if

I were a baby still. I love you better.

2 Lady. And why so, my lord ?

Mam. Not for because

Your brows are blacker (yet black brows, they say, Become some women best; so that there be not

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Too

Too much hair there, but in a semicircle,
Or a half moon made with a pen).

2 Lady. Who taught you this?

Mam. I learn'd it out of women's faces. Pray

now,

What colour are your eye-brows?

1 Lady. Blue, my lord.

Mam. Nay, that's a mock: I've seen a lady's nose That has been blue, but not her eye-brows.

2 Lady. Hark ye;

The queen, your mother, rounds apace: we shall
Present our services to a fine new prince

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One of these days; and then you'll wanton with us, If we would have you.

2 Lady. She is spread of late

Into a goodly bulk; Good time encounter her!
Her. What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir,

now

I am for you again. Pray you, sit by us,

And tell us a tale.

Mam. Merry, or sad, shall it be?

Her. As merry as you will.

Mam. A sad tale's best for winter :

I have one of sprights and goblins.
Her. Let's have that, good sir.

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Come on, sit down. Come on, and do your best
To fright me with your sprights; you're powerful

at it.

Mam. There was a man

Her. Nay, come, sit down; then on.

Mam. Dwelt by a church-yard;—I will tell it

softly:

Yon' crickets shall not hear it.

Her. Come on then, and give't me in mine ear.

Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, and Lords.

40

Leo. Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?

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.

Leo. How blest 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

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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, was pre-employ'd by him :
He hath 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?

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Lord.

Lord. By his great authority,

Which often hath no less prevail'd than so,

On your command.

Leo. I know't too well.

Give me the boy; [To HERMIONE.] I am glad, you did not nurse him :

Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you 70 Have too much blood in him.

Her. What is this? sport ?

Leo. Bear the boy hence, he shall not come about her;

Away with him: and let her sport herself
With that she's big with; for it is Polixenes
Has made thee swell thus.

Her. But I'd say, he had not;

And, I'll be sworn, you would believe my saying, Howe'er you lean to the nayward.

Leo. You, my lords,

Look on her, mark her well; be but about

To say, she is a goodly lady, and

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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: Oh, I am out-

That mercy does; for calumny will sear

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Virtue itself. These shrugs, these hums, and ha's, When you have said, she's goodly, come between,

Ere

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.

Her. 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.

Leo. 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 bold'st titles; ay, and privy
To this their late escape.

Her. 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.

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110

Leo.