I have too much believ'd mine own fufpicion:
'Beseech you, tenderly apply to her
Some remedies for life. Apollo, pardon
My great Prophaneness 'gainst thine Oracle!
I'll reconcile me to Polixenes,
New woo my Queen, recal the good Camillo;
(Whom I proclaim a man of Truth, of Mercy)
For being transported by my jealoufies
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose
Camillo for the Minifter, to poison
My friend Polixenes; which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
My fwift Command; tho' I with death, and with
Reward, did threaten, and encourage him,
Not doing it, and being done; 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 incertainties himself commended,
No richer than his honour: how he glisters
Through my dark Rust! and how his Piety
Does my deeds make the blacker !
Pau. Woe the while!
O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
Break too.-
Lord. What fit is this, good lady?
Pau. What studied torments, Tyrant, haft for me? What wheels? racks ? fires? what flaying? boiling?
In leads, or oils? what old, or newer, torture
Must I receive? whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst. Thy Tyranny
Together working with thy Jealoufies,
(Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine!) O, think, what they have done,
And then run mad, indeed; stark mad, for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing; (8)
That did but shew thee of a Soul inconftant,
And damnable ingrateful: nor was't much,
Thou would'it have poison'd good Camillo's honour,
To have him kill a King: poor trespasses,
More monstrous standing by; whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter,
To be, or none, or little; tho' a devil
Would have shed water out of fire, ere don't:
Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young Prince, whose honourable thoughts
(Thoughts high for one fo tender) cleft the heart,
That could conceive a gross and foolish Sire
Blemish'd his gracious Dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer; but the last, O lords,
When I have faid, cry, woe! the Queen, the Queen,-
The sweetest, dearest, creature's dead; and vengeance
Not dropt down yet.
Lord. The higher Powers forbid !
Pau. I say, she's dead: I'll swear't: if word, nor oath,
Prevail not, go and fee: 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 ftir: 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
(8) That thou betray'dft Polixenes, twas Nothing;
That did but shew thee, of a Fool, inconstant,
And damnable ingrateful.] I have ventur'd at a flight Alteration here, against the Authority of all the Copies. It is certainly too gross and blunt in Paulina, tho' She might impeach the King of Fooleries in some of his past Actions and Conduct, to call him downright a Fool. And it is much more pardonable in her to arraign his Morals, and the Qualities of his Mind, than rudely to call him Idiot to his Face.
To look that way thou wert.
Leo. Go on, go on:
Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserv'd
All tongues to talk their bitterest.
Lord. Say no more;
Howe'er the bufsiness goes, you have made fault
I'th' boldness of your speech.
All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
I do repent: alas, I've shew'd too much
The rathness of a woman; he is touch'd
To th' noble heart. What's gone, and what's past help,
Should be past grief. Do not receive affliction
At my petition, I beseech you; rather
Let me be punish'd, that have minded you
Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege,
Sir, royal Sir, forgive a foolish woman;
The love I bore your Queen-lo, fool again!-
I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children:
I'll not remember you of my own lord,
Who is loft too. Take you your patience to you,
And I'll say nothing.
Leo. Thou didst speak but well,
When most the truth; which I receive much better
Than to be pitied of thee. Pr'ythee, bring me
To the dead bodies of my Queen and fon;
One Grave shall be for both. Upon them shall
The causes of their death appear unto
Our shame perpetual; once a day I'll vifit
The Chappel where they lye, and tears, shed there,
Shall be my recreation. So long as nature
Will bear up with this exercise, so long
I daily vow to use it. Come, and lead me
To these forrows.
SCENE changes to Bohemia. A defart Country; the Sea at a little distance.
Enter Antigonus with a Child, and a Mariner.
T
HOU art perfect then, our ship hath touch'd
upon The desarts of Bohemia?
Mar. Ay, my lord; and fear,
We've landed in ill time: the skies look grimly,
And threaten present blusters. In my confcience,
The heav'ns with that we have in hand are angry,
And frown upon's.
Ant. Their facred wills be done! get thee aboard,
Look to thy bark, I'll not be long before
I call upon thee.
Mar. Make your best haste, and go not
Too far i'th' land; 'tis like to be loud weather.
Besides, this place is famous for the creatures
Of prey, that keep upon't.
Ant. Go thou away.
I'll follow instantly.
Mar. I'm glad at heart
To be fo rid o'th' business.
Ant. Come, poor babe;
I have heard, but not believ'd, the spirits of the dead
May walk again; if such thing be, thy mother
Appear'd to me last night; for ne'er was dream
So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head on one fide, some another,
I never saw a vessel of like forrow
So fill'd, and so becoming; in pure white robes,
Like very fanctity, the did approach
My cabin where I lay; thrice bow'd before me,
And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes
Became two spouts; the fury spent, anon
Did this break from her. "Good Antigonus,
"Since fate, against thy better disposition,
"Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
"Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,
"Places remote enough are in Bohemia, "There weep, and leave it crying; and, for the babe "Is counted loft for ever and ever, Perdita, "I prythee, call't. For this ungentle business, "Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt fee "Thy wife Paulina more." And so, with shrieks, She melted into air. Affrighted much, I did in time collect myself, and thought This was fo, and no slumber: Dreams are toys, Yet for this once, yea, fuperftitiously, I will be squar'd by this. I do believe, Hermione hath suffer'd death; and that Apollo would, this being indeed the issue Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid, Either for life or death, upon the earth Of its right father. Blossom, speed thee well!
There lye, and there thy character: there these,
Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty
And still reft thine. The storm begins; Poor wretch,
That for thy mother's fault art thus expos'd
To lofs, and what may follow, (weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds: and most accurst am I
To be by oath enjoin'd to this.) Farewel!
The day frowns more and more; thou art like to have
A lullaby too rough: I never saw
The heav'ns so dim by day. A favage clamour!
Well may I get aboard! this is the chace;
[Exit, pursued by a bear.
Shep. I would there were no age between ten and three and twenty, or that youth would fleep out the rest: for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fightinghark you now!- would any but these boil'd brains of nineteen, and two and twenty, hunt this weather? They have fcar'd away two of my best sheep, which, I fear, the wolf will fooner find than the master; if any where
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