Act IIScene III
The same. A Room in the Palace
Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords and other Attendants.
Leontes
Nor night nor day no rest: it is but weaknessTo bear the matter thus, mere weakness. IfThe cause were not in being,—part o’ th’ cause,She th’ adultress; for the harlot kingIs quite beyond mine arm, out of the blankAnd level of my brain, plot-proof. But sheI can hook to me. Say that she were gone,Given to the fire, a moiety of my restMight come to me again. Who’s there?
First Attendant
My lord.
Leontes
How does the boy?
First Attendant
He took good rest tonight;’Tis hop’d his sickness is discharg’d.
Leontes
To see his nobleness,Conceiving the dishonour of his mother.He straight declin’d, 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 First Attendant.
Fie, fie! no thought of him.The very thought of my revenges that wayRecoil 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 PolixenesLaugh at me; make their pastime at my sorrow:They should not laugh if I could reach them, norShall she, within my power.
Enter Paulina carrying a baby, with Antigonus, lords and servants.
First Lord
You must not enter.
Paulina
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.
Antigonus
That’s enough.
Servant
Madam, he hath not slept tonight; commandedNone should come at him.
Paulina
Not so hot, good sir;I come to bring him sleep. ’Tis such as you,That creep like shadows by him, and do sighAt each his needless heavings,—such as youNourish the cause of his awaking. IDo come with words as med’cinal as true,Honest as either, to purge him of that humourThat presses him from sleep.
Leontes
What noise there, ho?
Paulina
No noise, my lord; but needful conferenceAbout some gossips for your highness.
Leontes
How!Away with that audacious lady! Antigonus,I charg’d thee that she should not come about me.I knew she would.
Antigonus
I told her so, my lord,On your displeasure’s peril and on mine,She should not visit you.
Leontes
What, canst not rule her?
Paulina
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.
Antigonus
La you now, you hear.When she will take the rein I let her run;But she’ll not stumble.
Paulina
Good my liege, I come,—And, I beseech you hear me, who professesMyself your loyal servant, your physician,Your most obedient counsellor, yet that daresLess appear so, in comforting your evils,Than such as most seem yours—I say I comeFrom your good queen.
Leontes
Good queen!
Paulina
Good queen, my lord, good queen: I say, good queen,And would by combat make her good, so were IA man, the worst about you.
Leontes
Force her hence.
Paulina
Let him that makes but trifles of his eyesFirst 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.
Laying down the child.
Leontes
Out!A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o’ door:A most intelligencing bawd!
Paulina
Not so.I am as ignorant in that as youIn so entitling me; and no less honestThan you are mad; which is enough, I’ll warrant,As this world goes, to pass for honest.
Leontes
Traitors!Will you not push her out?
To Antigonus.
Give her the bastard,Thou dotard! Thou art woman-tir’d, unroostedBy thy Dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard,Take’t up, I say; give’t to thy crone.
Paulina
For everUnvenerable be thy hands, if thouTak’st up the princess by that forced basenessWhich he has put upon ’t!
Leontes
He dreads his wife.
Paulina
So I would you did; then ’twere past all doubtYou’d call your children yours.
Leontes
A nest of traitors!
Antigonus
I am none, by this good light.
Paulina
Nor I; nor anyBut one that’s here, and that’s himself. For heThe 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 curseHe cannot be compell’d to’t) once removeThe root of his opinion, which is rottenAs ever oak or stone was sound.
Leontes
A callatOf 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 damCommit them to the fire.
Paulina
It is yours;And, might we lay th’ old proverb to your charge,So like you ’tis the worse. Behold, my lords,Although the print be little, the whole matterAnd 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;The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger:And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made itSo like to him that got it, if thou hastThe ordering of the mind too, ’mongst all coloursNo yellow in ’t, lest she suspect, as he does,Her children not her husband’s!
Leontes
A gross hag!And, losel, thou art worthy to be hang’dThat wilt not stay her tongue.
Antigonus
Hang all the husbandsThat cannot do that feat, you’ll leave yourselfHardly one subject.
Leontes
Once more, take her hence.
Paulina
A most unworthy and unnatural lordCan do no more.
Leontes
I’ll have thee burnt.
Paulina
I care not.It is an heretic that makes the fire,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 accusationThan your own weak-hing’d fancy, something savoursOf tyranny, and will ignoble make you,Yea, scandalous to the world.
Leontes
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!
Paulina
I pray you, do not push me; I’ll be gone.Look to your babe, my lord; ’tis yours: Jove send herA 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.
Leontes
Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this.My child? Away with’t. Even thou, that hastA heart so tender o’er it, take it hence,And see it instantly consum’d 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 that thou else call’st thine. If thou refuseAnd wilt encounter with my wrath, say so;The bastard brains with these my proper handsShall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire;For thou set’st on thy wife.
Antigonus
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.
Leontes
You’re liars all.
First Lord
Beseech your highness, give us better credit:We have always truly serv’d you; and beseechSo to esteem of us. And on our knees we beg,As recompense of our dear servicesPast and to come, that you do change this purpose,Which being so horrible, so bloody, mustLead on to some foul issue. We all kneel.
Leontes
I am a feather for each wind that blows.Shall I live on to see this bastard kneelAnd call me father? better burn it nowThan curse it then. But be it; let it live.It shall not neither.
To Antigonus.
You, sir, come you hither,You that have been so tenderly officiousWith Lady Margery, your midwife, there,To save this bastard’s life—for ’tis a bastard,So sure as this beard’s grey. What will you adventureTo save this brat’s life?
Antigonus
Anything, my lord,That my ability may undergo,And nobleness impose: at least thus much:I’ll pawn the little blood which I have leftTo save the innocent. Anything possible.
Leontes
It shall be possible. Swear by this swordThou wilt perform my bidding.
Antigonus
I will, my lord.
Leontes
Mark, and perform it, seest thou? for the failOf any point in’t shall not only beDeath to thyself, but to thy lewd-tongu’d wife,Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee,As thou art liegeman to us, that thou carryThis female bastard hence, and that thou bear itTo some remote and desert place, quite outOf our dominions; and that there thou leave it,Without more mercy, to it own protectionAnd favour of the climate. As by strange fortuneIt 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 placeWhere chance may nurse or end it. Take it up.
Antigonus
I swear to do this, though a present deathHad been more merciful. Come on, poor babe:Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravensTo be thy nurses! Wolves and bears, they say,Casting their savageness aside, have doneLike offices of pity. Sir, be prosperousIn more than this deed does require! And blessingAgainst this cruelty, fight on thy side,Poor thing, condemn’d to loss!
Exit with the child.
Leontes
No, I’ll not rearAnother’s issue.
Enter a Servant.
Servant
Please your highness, postsFrom those you sent to th’ oracle are comeAn hour since: Cleomenes and Dion,Being well arriv’d from Delphos, are both landed,Hasting to th’ court.
First Lord
So please you, sir, their speedHath been beyond account.
Leontes
Twenty-three daysThey have been absent: ’tis good speed; foretellsThe great Apollo suddenly will haveThe truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords;Summon a session, that we may arraignOur most disloyal lady; for, as she hathBeen publicly accus’d, so shall she haveA just and open trial. While she lives,My heart will be a burden to me. Leave me,And think upon my bidding.
Exeunt.