To bear the matter thus; mere weakness. If The cause were not in being;-part o' the cause, She the adulteress; 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?
*Mark in centre of target.

First Serv.
Leon.

How does the boy?

My lord?

First Serv. He took good rest to-night; 'Tis hoped his sickness is discharged. Leon. To see his nobleness!

ΙΟ

Conceiving the dishonour of his mother,
He straight declined, droop'd, took it deeply,
Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on't in himself,
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
And downright languish'd. Leave me solely: go,
See how he fares. [Exit Serv.] Fie, fie! no
thought of him:

20

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

Enter PAULINA, with a child.

First Lord.

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.

30

Sec. Serv. Madam, he hath not slept to-night;

commanded

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 medicinal as true,
Honest as either, to purge him of that humour
That presses him from sleep.

Leon.

What noise there, ho?

Paul. No noise, my lord; but needful confer

ence

About some gossips for your highness.

How!

40

Leon.
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,
Unless he take the course that you have done,
Commit me for committing honour, trust it,
He shall not rule me.

Ant.
La you now, you hear:
When she will take the rein I let her run;
But she'll not stumble.

Paul.
Good my liege, I come;
And, I beseech you, hear me, who profess
Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
Your most obedient counsellor, yet that dare
Less appear so in comforting your evils,
Than such as most seem yours: I say, I come
From your good queen.

Leon.

Paul.

Good queen!

50

Good queen, my lord, Good queen; I say good queen;

And would by combat make her good, so were I A man, the worst about you.

Force her hence.

61

Leon. Paul. Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes First hand me: on mine own accord I'll off; But first I'll do my errand. The good queen,

For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter; Here 'tis; commends it to your blessing.

Leon.

[Laying down the child.

Out!

A mankind* witch! Hence with her, out o' door: A most intelligencing bawd!

Paul.

Not so:

*Masculine.

70

I am as ignorant in that as you
In so entitling me, and no less honest
Than you are mad; which is enough, I'll warrant,
As this world goes, to pass for honest.

Leon. Traitors! Will you not push her out? Give her the bastard. Thou dotard! thou art woman-tired,* unroosted By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard; Take't up, I say; give't to thy crone.

Paul.

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou

*Hen-pecked. For ever

Takest up the princess by that forced baseness
Which he has put upon't!

Leon.

He dreads his wife.

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

all doubt

You'ld call your children yours.

Leon.

80

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 honour 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 compell'd to't once remove
The root of his opinion, which is rotten
As ever oak or stone was sound.

A callat* *Jade. 90

Leon. 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
And copy of the father, eye, nose, lip,

The trick of's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley,
The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek,
His smiles,

ΙΟΙ

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

The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours
No yellow* in't, lest she suspect, as he does,
Her children not her husband's! *Color of jealousy.
Leon.
A gross hag!
And, lozel,* thou art worthy to be hang'd,
That wilt not stay her tongue.

*Spendthrift

Ant. Hang all the husbands 110 That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself

Hardly one subject.

Once more, take her hence.

Leon. Paul. A most unworthy and unnatural lord Can do no more.

Leon.

Paul.

I'll ha' thee burnt.

It is an 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

savours

Of tyranny and will ignoble make you,

Yea, scandalous to the world.

I 20

Leon. On your allegiance, Out of the chamber with her! 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; I'll be gone. Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis yours: Jove send her

A better guiding spirit! What needs 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. 130 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 set'st on thy wife.

Ant.

I did not, sir: These lords, my noble fellows, if they please, Can clear me in't.

Lords.

We can: my royal liege,

He is not guilty of her coming hither.

Leon. You're liars all.

140

First Lord. Beseech your highness, give us better credit:

We have always truly served you, and beseech you
So to esteem of us, and on our knees we beg,
As recompense of our dear services

150

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?
Than curse it then.
It shall not neither.

better burn it now

But be it; let it live.

You, sir, come you hither;

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

160

To save this bastard's life,-for 'tis a bastard,
So sure as this beard's grey,—what will you ad-

venture

To save this brat's life?

Ant.

Any thing, my lord,

That my ability may undergo

And nobleness impose: at least thus much: