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 receiv'd. But thus,-If powers divine
Behold our human actions, (as they do),

I doubt not then, but innocence shall make
False accusation blush, and tyranny

Tremble at patience.-You, my lord, best know,
(Who least will seem to do so), my past life
Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
As I am now unhappy; which is more
Than history can pattern, though devis'd,
And play'd, to take spectators; For behold me,--
A fellow of the royal bed, which owe

A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter,
The mother to a hopeful prince,-here standing,
To prate and talk for life, and honour, 'fore
Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it
As I weigh grief, which I would spare: for honour,
'Tis a derivative from me to mine,

And only that I stand for. I appeal

To your own 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 uncurrent I

Have strained to appear thus: if one jot beyond
The bound of honour; or, in act, or will,
That way inclining; harden'd be the hearts
Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin
Cry, Fie upon my grave!

Leon. I ne'er heard yet,

That any of these bolder vices wanted
More impudence to gainsay what they did,
Than to perform it first.

Her. That's true enough;

Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.
Leon. As you were past all shame,

(Those of your fact are so) so past all truth:
Which to deny, concerns more than avails;
For as

Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself,
No father owning it, (which is, indeed,
More criminal in thee, than it), so thou
Shalt feel our justice; in whose easiest passage,
Look for no less than death.

Her. Sir, spare your threats;

The bug, which you would fright me with, I seek.
To me can life be no commodity;

The crown and comfort of my life, your favour,
I do give lost; for I do feel it gone,

But know not how it went: My second joy,
The first-fruits of our marriage, from his presence
I am barr'd, like one infectious: My third comfort,
Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast,
The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth,
Hal'd out to murder: Myself on every post
Proclaim'd a strumpet: With immodest hatred,
The childbed privilege denied, which 'longs
To women of all fashion: Lastly, hurried
Here to this place, i'the open air, before
I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,
Tell me what blessings I have here alive,
That I should fear to die? Therefore, proceed.
But yet, hear this;-mistake me not;-No!—
life?

I prize it not a straw;-but, for mine honour,
(Which I would free), if I shall be condemn'd
Upon surmises; (all proofs sleeping else
But what your jealousies awake); I tell you,
'Tis rigour, and not law.-Your honours all,
I do refer me to the oracle;

Apollo be my judge.

Leon. Bring forth,

And in Apollo's name, his oracle.

Her. The Emperor of Russia was my father:
O, that he were alive, and here beholding
His daughter's trial! that he did but see
The flatness of my misery; yet with eyes
Of pity, not revenge!

Pho. You here shall swear upon this sword of
justice,

That

you, Cleomenes and Dion, have

Been both at Delphos; and from thence have brought
This seal'd up oracle, by the hand deliver'd
Of great Apollo's priest; and that, since then
You have not dar'd to break the holy seal,

Nor read the secrets in't.

Cleo. All this we swear.

Leon. Break up the seals, and read.

Pho. [Reads.] Hermione is chaste; Polixenes blameless; Camillo a true subject; Leontes' babe truly begotten; and the king shall live without an heir, if that which is lost, be not found.

Paul. Now blessed be the great Apollo !

Her. Prais'd!

Leon. Hast thou read truth ?

Pho. Ay, my lord, even so

As it is here set down.

Leon. The session shall proceed; this is mere false

hood.

Enter EMILIA.

Emil. My lord the king, the king!

Leon. What is the business ?

Emil. O sir, I shall be hated to report it:

The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear
Of the queen's speed, is dead.

Leon. How! dead?

Her. [Fainting.] Oh! oh! oh!-my son!-
Leon. How now there?

:-Look

Paul. This news is mortal to the queen:

down,

And see what death is doing.

Leon. Take her hence;

Her heart is but o'ercharg'd; she will recover.[HERMIONE is borne off by PAULINA, EMILIA, LAMIA, and HERO. The heavens themselves do strike at my injustice. I have too much believ'd mine own suspicion :'Beseech you, tenderly apply to her Some remedies for life.-Break up the court.

[Trumpets sound.-Scene closes.]

SCENE II.

The KING'S Closet.

Enter LEONTES, PHOсION, and THASIUS.

Leon. Apollo, pardon

My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle! -
I'll reconcile me to Polixenes;

New woo my queen; recall the good Camillo;
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy:
For, being transported by my jealousies
To bloody thoughts, and to revenge, I chose
Camillo for the minister, to poison

My friend Polixenes :

He, most humane,

And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest Unclasp'd my practice; quit his fortunes here, Which you knew great; and to the certain hazard

Of all uncertainties himself commended,
No richer than his honour:-How he glisters
Through my dark rust! and how his piety
Does my deeds make the blacker!

PAULINA within.

Paul. Woe the while!

Leon. What fit is this, good lady?

Enter PAULINA.

Paul. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? What wheels, racks, fires ?—

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,—
O, think, what they have done,

And then run mad, indeed! stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it,
When I have said, cry, woe !-the queen,

the queen, The sweetest, dearest, creature's dead; and vengeance for't

Not dropp'd down yet.

Leon. The higher powers forbid !

Paul. I say, she's dead; I'll swear't: if word, nor oath,

Prevail not, go and see: if you can bring
Tincture, or lustre, in her lip, her eye,
Heat outwardly, or breath within, I'll serve you
As I would do the gods.-But, O thou tyrant!
Do not repent these things; for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can stir: therefore betake thee
To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren mountain, and still winter
In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
To look that way thou wert.

Leon. Go on, go on;