Chapter XXXI: Part 31

O welcome Father: Father, I charge thee by thy reuerence Heere to vnfold, though lately we intended To keepe in darkenesse, what occasion now Reueales before 'tis ripe: what thou dost know Hath newly past, betweene this youth, and me

Priest. A Contract of eternall bond of loue, Confirm'd by mutuall ioynder of your hands, Attested by the holy close of lippes, Strengthned by enterchangement of your rings, And all the Ceremonie of this compact Seal'd in my function, by my testimony: Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my graue I haue trauail'd but two houres

Du. O thou dissembling Cub: what wilt thou be When time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy case? Or will not else thy craft so quickely grow, That thine owne trip shall be thine ouerthrow: Farewell, and take her, but direct thy feete, Where thou, and I (henceforth) may neuer meet

Vio. My Lord, I do protest

Ol. O do not sweare, Hold little faith, though thou hast too much feare. Enter Sir Andrew.

And. For the loue of God a Surgeon, send one presently
to sir Toby

Ol. What's the matter?
And. H'as broke my head acrosse, and has giuen Sir
Toby a bloody Coxcombe too: for the loue of God your
helpe, I had rather then forty pound I were at home

Ol. Who has done this sir Andrew?
And. The Counts Gentleman, one Cesario: we tooke
him for a Coward, but hee's the verie diuell, incardinate

Du. My Gentleman Cesario?
And. Odd's lifelings heere he is: you broke my head
for nothing, and that that I did, I was set on to do't by sir
Toby

Vio. Why do you speake to me, I neuer hurt you: You drew your sword vpon me without cause, But I bespake you faire, and hurt you not. Enter Toby and Clowne.

And. If a bloody coxcombe be a hurt, you haue hurt me: I thinke you set nothing by a bloody Coxecombe. Heere comes sir Toby halting, you shall heare more: but if he had not beene in drinke, hee would haue tickel'd you other gates then he did

Du. How now Gentleman? how ist with you?
To. That's all one, has hurt me, and there's th' end on't:
Sot, didst see Dicke Surgeon, sot?
Clo. O he's drunke sir Toby an houre agone: his eyes
were set at eight i'th morning

To. Then he's a Rogue, and a passy measures pauyn: I
hate a drunken rogue

Ol. Away with him? Who hath made this hauocke
with them?
And. Ile helpe you sir Toby, because we'll be drest together

To. Will you helpe an Asse-head, and a coxcombe, &
a knaue: a thin fac'd knaue, a gull?
Ol. Get him to bed, and let his hurt be look'd too.
Enter Sebastian.

Seb. I am sorry Madam I haue hurt your kinsman: But had it beene the brother of my blood, I must haue done no lesse with wit and safety. You throw a strange regard vpon me, and by that I do perceiue it hath offended you: Pardon me (sweet one) euen for the vowes We made each other, but so late ago

Du. One face, one voice, one habit, and two persons,
A naturall Perspectiue, that is, and is not

Seb. Anthonio: O my deere Anthonio,
How haue the houres rack'd, and tortur'd me,
Since I haue lost thee?
Ant. Sebastian are you?
Seb. Fear'st thou that Anthonio?
Ant. How haue you made diuision of your selfe,
An apple cleft in two, is not more twin
Then these two creatures. Which is Sebastian?
Ol. Most wonderfull

Seb. Do I stand there? I neuer had a brother: Nor can there be that Deity in my nature Of heere, and euery where. I had a sister, Whom the blinde waues and surges haue deuour'd: Of charity, what kinne are you to me? What Countreyman? What name? What Parentage? Vio. Of Messaline: Sebastian was my Father, Such a Sebastian was my brother too: So went he suited to his watery tombe: If spirits can assume both forme and suite, You come to fright vs

Seb. A spirit I am indeed, But am in that dimension grossely clad, Which from the wombe I did participate. Were you a woman, as the rest goes euen, I should my teares let fall vpon your cheeke, And say, thrice welcome drowned Viola

Vio. My father had a moale vpon his brow

Seb. And so had mine

Vio. And dide that day when Viola from her birth
Had numbred thirteene yeares

Seb. O that record is liuely in my soule, He finished indeed his mortall acte That day that made my sister thirteene yeares

Vio. If nothing lets to make vs happie both, But this my masculine vsurp'd attyre: Do not embrace me, till each circumstance, Of place, time, fortune, do cohere and iumpe That I am Viola, which to confirme, Ile bring you to a Captaine in this Towne, Where lye my maiden weeds: by whose gentle helpe, I was preseru'd to serue this Noble Count: All the occurrence of my fortune since Hath beene betweene this Lady, and this Lord

Seb. So comes it Lady, you haue beene mistooke: But Nature to her bias drew in that. You would haue bin contracted to a Maid, Nor are you therein (by my life) deceiu'd, You are betroth'd both to a maid and man

Du. Be not amaz'd, right noble is his blood: If this be so, as yet the glasse seemes true, I shall haue share in this most happy wracke, Boy, thou hast saide to me a thousand times, Thou neuer should'st loue woman like to me

Vio. And all those sayings, will I ouer sweare, And all those swearings keepe as true in soule, As doth that Orbed Continent, the fire, That seuers day from night

Du. Giue me thy hand,
And let me see thee in thy womans weedes

Vio. The Captaine that did bring me first on shore Hath my Maides garments: he vpon some Action Is now in durance, at Maluolio's suite, a Gentleman, and follower of my Ladies

Ol. He shall inlarge him: fetch Maluolio hither, And yet alas, now I remember me, They say poore Gentleman, he's much distract. Enter Clowne with a Letter, and Fabian.

A most extracting frensie of mine owne From my remembrance, clearly banisht his. How does he sirrah? Cl. Truely Madam, he holds Belzebub at the staues end as well as a man in his case may do: has heere writ a letter to you, I should haue giuen't you to day morning. But as a madmans Epistles are no Gospels, so it skilles not much when they are deliuer'd

Ol. Open't, and read it

Clo. Looke then to be well edified, when the Foole
deliuers the Madman. By the Lord Madam

Ol. How now, art thou mad?
Clo. No Madam, I do but reade madnesse: and your
Ladyship will haue it as it ought to bee, you must allow
Vox

Ol. Prethee reade i'thy right wits

Clo. So I do Madona: but to reade his right wits, is to reade thus: therefore, perpend my Princesse, and giue eare

Ol. Read it you, sirrah

Fab. Reads. By the Lord Madam, you wrong me, and the world shall know it: Though you haue put mee into darkenesse, and giuen your drunken Cosine rule ouer me, yet haue I the benefit of my senses as well as your Ladieship. I haue your owne letter, that induced mee to the semblance I put on; with the which I doubt not, but to do my selfe much right, or you much shame: thinke of me as you please. I leaue my duty a little vnthought of, and speake out of my iniury. The madly vs'd Maluolio

Ol. Did he write this?
Clo. I Madame

Du. This sauours not much of distraction

Ol. See him deliuer'd Fabian, bring him hither: My Lord, so please you, these things further thought on, To thinke me as well a sister, as a wife, One day shall crowne th' alliance on't, so please you, Heere at my house, and at my proper cost

Du. Madam, I am most apt t' embrace your offer: Your Master quits you: and for your seruice done him, So much against the mettle of your sex, So farre beneath your soft and tender breeding, And since you call'd me Master, for so long: Heere is my hand, you shall from this time bee Your Masters Mistris

Ol. A sister, you are she.
Enter Maluolio.

Du. Is this the Madman?
Ol. I my Lord, this same: How now Maluolio?
Mal. Madam, you haue done me wrong,
Notorious wrong

Ol. Haue I Maluolio? No

Mal. Lady you haue, pray you peruse that Letter. You must not now denie it is your hand, Write from it if you can, in hand, or phrase, Or say, tis not your seale, not your inuention: You can say none of this. Well, grant it then, And tell me in the modestie of honor, Why you haue giuen me such cleare lights of fauour, Bad me come smiling, and crosse-garter'd to you, To put on yellow stockings, and to frowne Vpon sir Toby, and the lighter people: And acting this in an obedient hope, Why haue you suffer'd me to be imprison'd, Kept in a darke house, visited by the Priest, And made the most notorious gecke and gull, That ere inuention plaid on? Tell me why? Ol. Alas Maluolio, this is not my writing, Though I confesse much like the Charracter: But out of question, tis Marias hand. And now I do bethinke me, it was shee First told me thou wast mad; then cam'st in smiling, And in such formes, which heere were presuppos'd Vpon thee in the Letter: prethee be content, This practice hath most shrewdly past vpon thee: But when we know the grounds, and authors of it, Thou shalt be both the Plaintiffe and the Iudge Of thine owne cause

Fab. Good Madam heare me speake, And let no quarrell, nor no braule to come, Taint the condition of this present houre, Which I haue wondred at. In hope it shall not, Most freely I confesse my selfe, and Toby Set this deuice against Maluolio heere, Vpon some stubborne and vncourteous parts We had conceiu'd against him. Maria writ The Letter, at sir Tobyes great importance, In recompence whereof, he hath married her: How with a sportfull malice it was follow'd, May rather plucke on laughter then reuenge, If that the iniuries be iustly weigh'd, That haue on both sides past

Ol. Alas poore Foole, how haue they baffel'd thee? Clo. Why some are borne great, some atchieue greatnesse, and some haue greatnesse throwne vpon them. I was one sir, in this Enterlude, one sir Topas sir, but that's all one: By the Lord Foole, I am not mad: but do you remember, Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascall, and you smile not he's gag'd: and thus the whirlegigge of time, brings in his reuenges

Mal. Ile be reueng'd on the whole packe of you?
Ol. He hath bene most notoriously abus'd

Du. Pursue him, and entreate him to a peace: He hath not told vs of the Captaine yet, When that is knowne, and golden time conuents A solemne Combination shall be made Of our deere soules. Meane time sweet sister, We will not part from hence. Cesario come (For so you shall be while you are a man:) But when in other habites you are seene, Orsino's Mistris, and his fancies Queene.

Exeunt.

Clowne sings . When that I was and a little tine boy, with hey, ho, the winde and the raine: A foolish thing was but a toy, for the raine it raineth euery day. But when I came to mans estate, with hey ho, &c. Gainst Knaues and Theeues men shut their gate, for the raine, &c. But when I came alas to wiue, with hey ho, &c. By swaggering could I neuer thriue, for the raine, &c. But when I came vnto my beds, with hey ho, &c. With tospottes still had drunken heades, for the raine, &c. A great while ago the world begon, hey ho, &c. But that's all one, our Play is done, and wee'l striue to please you euery day.

FINIS. Twelfe Night, Or what you will.

The Winters Tale

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Camillo and Archidamus.

Arch. If you shall chance (Camillo) to visit Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my seruices are now on-foot, you shall see (as I haue said) great difference betwixt our Bohemia, and your Sicilia

Cam. I thinke, this comming Summer, the King of Sicilia meanes to pay Bohemia the Visitation, which hee iustly owes him

Arch. Wherein our Entertainment shall shame vs: we will be iustified in our Loues: for indeed- Cam. 'Beseech you- Arch. Verely I speake it in the freedome of my knowledge: we cannot with such magnificence- in so rare- I know not what to say- Wee will giue you sleepie Drinkes, that your Sences (vn-intelligent of our insufficience) may, though they cannot prayse vs, as little accuse vs

Cam. You pay a great deale to deare, for what's giuen
freely

Arch. 'Beleeue me, I speake as my vnderstanding instructs
me, and as mine honestie puts it to vtterance

Cam. Sicilia cannot shew himselfe ouer-kind to Bohemia: They were trayn'd together in their Childhoods; and there rooted betwixt them then such an affection, which cannot chuse but braunch now. Since their more mature Dignities, and Royall Necessities, made seperation of their Societie, their Encounters (though not Personall) hath been Royally attornyed with enter-change of Gifts, Letters, louing Embassies, that they haue seem'd to be together, though absent: shooke hands, as ouer a Vast; and embrac'd as it were from the ends of opposed Winds. The Heauens continue their Loues

Arch. I thinke there is not in the World, either Malice or Matter, to alter it. You haue an vnspeakable comfort of your young Prince Mamillius: it is a Gentleman of the greatest Promise, that euer came into my Note

Cam. I very well agree with you, in the hopes of him: it is a gallant Child; one, that (indeed) Physicks the Subiect, makes old hearts fresh: they that went on Crutches ere he was borne, desire yet their life, to see him a Man

Arch. Would they else be content to die?
Cam. Yes; if there were no other excuse, why they should
desire to liue

Arch. If the King had no Sonne, they would desire to
liue on Crutches till he had one.

Exeunt.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Leontes, Hermione, Mamillius, Polixenes, Camillo.

Pol. Nine Changes of the Watry-Starre hath been The Shepheards Note, since we haue left our Throne Without a Burthen: Time as long againe Would be fill'd vp (my Brother) with our Thanks, And yet we should, for perpetuitie, Goe hence in debt: And therefore, like a Cypher (Yet standing in rich place) I multiply With one we thanke you, many thousands moe, That goe before it

Leo. Stay your Thanks a while,
And pay them when you part

Pol. Sir, that's to morrow: I am question'd by my feares, of what may chance, Or breed vpon our absence, that may blow No sneaping Winds at home, to make vs say, This is put forth too truly: besides, I haue stay'd To tyre your Royaltie

Leo. We are tougher (Brother)
Then you can put vs to't

Pol. No longer stay

Leo. One Seue' night longer

Pol. Very sooth, to morrow

Leo. Wee'le part the time betweene's then: and in that
Ile no gaine-saying

Pol. Presse me not ('beseech you) so: There is no Tongue that moues; none, none i'th' World So soone as yours, could win me: so it should now, Were there necessitie in your request, although 'Twere needfull I deny'd it. My Affaires Doe euen drag me home-ward: which to hinder, Were (in your Loue) a Whip to me; my stay, To you a Charge, and Trouble: to saue both, Farewell (our Brother.) Leo. Tongue-ty'd our Queene? speake you

Her. I had thought (Sir) to haue held my peace, vntill You had drawne Oathes from him, not to stay: you (Sir) Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure All in Bohemia's well: this satisfaction, The by-gone-day proclaym'd, say this to him, He's beat from his best ward

Leo. Well said, Hermione

Her. To tell, he longs to see his Sonne, were strong: But let him say so then, and let him goe; But let him sweare so, and he shall not stay, Wee'l thwack him hence with Distaffes. Yet of your Royall presence, Ile aduenture The borrow of a Weeke. When at Bohemia You take my Lord, Ile giue him my Commission, To let him there a Moneth, behind the Gest Prefix'd for's parting: yet (good-deed) Leontes, I loue thee not a Iarre o'th' Clock, behind What Lady she her Lord. You'le stay? Pol. No, Madame

Her. Nay, but you will?
Pol. I may not verely

Her. Verely? You put me off with limber Vowes: but I, Though you would seek t' vnsphere the Stars with Oaths, Should yet say, Sir, no going: Verely You shall not goe; a Ladyes Verely 'is As potent as a Lords. Will you goe yet? Force me to keepe you as a Prisoner, Not like a Guest: so you shall pay your Fees When you depart, and saue your Thanks. How say you? My Prisoner? or my Guest? by your dread Verely, One of them you shall be

Pol. Your Guest then, Madame: To be your Prisoner, should import offending; Which is for me, lesse easie to commit, Then you to punish

Her. Not your Gaoler then, But your kind Hostesse. Come, Ile question you Of my Lords Tricks, and yours, when you were Boyes: You were pretty Lordings then? Pol. We were (faire Queene) Two Lads, that thought there was no more behind, But such a day to morrow, as to day, And to be Boy eternall

Her. Was not my Lord The veryer Wag o'th' two? Pol. We were as twyn'd Lambs, that did frisk i'th' Sun, And bleat the one at th' other: what we chang'd, Was Innocence, for Innocence: we knew not The Doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd That any did: Had we pursu'd that life, And our weake Spirits ne're been higher rear'd With stronger blood, we should haue answer'd Heauen Boldly, not guilty; the Imposition clear'd, Hereditarie ours

Her. By this we gather
You haue tript since

Pol. O my most sacred Lady, Temptations haue since then been borne to's: for In those vnfledg'd dayes, was my Wife a Girle; Your precious selfe had then not cross'd the eyes Of my young Play-fellow

Her. Grace to boot: Of this make no conclusion, least you say Your Queene and I are Deuils: yet goe on, Th' offences we haue made you doe, wee'le answere, If you first sinn'd with vs: and that with vs You did continue fault; and that you slipt not With any, but with vs

Leo. Is he woon yet?
Her. Hee'le stay (my Lord.)
Leo. At my request, he would not:
Hermione (my dearest) thou neuer spoak'st
To better purpose

Her. Neuer?
Leo. Neuer, but once

Her. What? haue I twice said well? when was't before? I prethee tell me: cram's with prayse, and make's As fat as tame things: One good deed, dying tonguelesse, Slaughters a thousand, wayting vpon that. Our prayses are our Wages. You may ride's With one soft Kisse a thousand Furlongs, ere With Spur we heat an Acre. But to th' Goale: My last good deed, was to entreat his stay. What was my first? it ha's an elder Sister, Or I mistake you: O, would her Name were Grace. But once before I spoke to th' purpose? when? Nay, let me haue't: I long

Leo. Why, that was when Three crabbed Moneths had sowr'd themselues to death, Ere I could make thee open thy white Hand: A clap thy selfe, my Loue; then didst thou vtter, I am yours for euer

Her. 'Tis Grace indeed. Why lo-you now; I haue spoke to th' purpose twice: The one, for euer earn'd a Royall Husband; Th' other, for some while a Friend

Leo. Too hot, too hot: To mingle friendship farre, is mingling bloods. I haue Tremor Cordis on me: my heart daunces, But not for ioy; not ioy. This Entertainment May a free face put on: deriue a Libertie From Heartinesse, from Bountie, fertile Bosome, And well become the Agent: 't may; I graunt: But to be padling Palmes, and pinching Fingers, As now they are, and making practis'd Smiles As in a Looking-Glasse; and then to sigh, as 'twere The Mort o'th' Deere: oh, that is entertainment My Bosome likes not, nor my Browes. Mamillius, Art thou my Boy? Mam. I, my good Lord

Leo. I'fecks: Why that's my Bawcock: what? has't smutch'd thy Nose? They say it is a Coppy out of mine. Come Captaine, We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, Captaine: And yet the Steere, the Heycfer, and the Calfe, Are all call'd Neat. Still Virginalling Vpon his Palme? How now (you wanton Calfe) Art thou my Calfe? Mam. Yes, if you will (my Lord.) Leo. Thou want'st a rough pash, & the shoots that I haue To be full, like me: yet they say we are Almost as like as Egges; Women say so, (That will say any thing.) But were they false As o're-dy'd Blacks, as Wind, as Waters; false As Dice are to be wish'd, by one that fixes No borne 'twixt his and mine; yet were it true, To say this Boy were like me. Come (Sir Page) Looke on me with your Welkin eye: sweet Villaine, Most dear'st, my Collop: Can thy Dam, may't be Affection? thy Intention stabs the Center. Thou do'st make possible things not so held, Communicat'st with Dreames (how can this be?) With what's vnreall: thou coactiue art, And fellow'st nothing. Then 'tis very credent, Thou may'st co-ioyne with something, and thou do'st, (And that beyond Commission) and I find it, (And that to the infection of my Braines, And hardning of my Browes.) Pol. What meanes Sicilia? Her. He something seemes vnsetled

Pol. How? my Lord? Leo. What cheere? how is't with you, best Brother? Her. You look as if you held a Brow of much distraction: Are you mou'd (my Lord?) Leo. No, in good earnest. How sometimes Nature will betray it's folly? It's tendernesse? and make it selfe a Pastime To harder bosomes? Looking on the Lynes Of my Boyes face, me thoughts I did requoyle Twentie three yeeres, and saw my selfe vn-breech'd, In my greene Veluet Coat; my Dagger muzzel'd, Least it should bite it's Master, and so proue (As Ornaments oft do's) too dangerous: How like (me thought) I then was to this Kernell, This Squash, this Gentleman. Mine honest Friend, Will you take Egges for Money? Mam. No (my Lord) Ile fight

Leo. You will: why happy man be's dole. My Brother Are you so fond of your young Prince, as we Doe seeme to be of ours? Pol. If at home (Sir) He's all my Exercise, my Mirth, my Matter; Now my sworne Friend, and then mine Enemy; My Parasite, my Souldier: States-man; all: He makes a Iulyes day, short as December, And with his varying childnesse, cures in me Thoughts, that would thick my blood

Leo. So stands this Squire Offic'd with me: We two will walke (my Lord) And leaue you to your grauer steps. Hermione, How thou lou'st vs, shew in our Brothers welcome; Let what is deare in Sicily, be cheape: Next to thy selfe, and my young Rouer, he's Apparant to my heart

Her. If you would seeke vs, We are yours i'th' Garden: shall's attend you there? Leo. To your owne bents dispose you: you'le be found, Be you beneath the Sky: I am angling now, (Though you perceiue me not how I giue Lyne) Goe too, goe too. How she holds vp the Neb? the Byll to him? And armes her with the boldnesse of a Wife To her allowing Husband. Gone already, Ynch-thick, knee-deepe; ore head and eares a fork'd one. Goe play (Boy) play: thy Mother playes, and I Play too; but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue Will hisse me to my Graue: Contempt and Clamor Will be my Knell. Goe play (Boy) play, there haue been (Or I am much deceiu'd) Cuckolds ere now, And many a man there is (euen at this present, Now, while I speake this) holds his Wife by th' Arme, That little thinkes she ha's been sluyc'd in's absence, And his Pond fish'd by his next Neighbor (by Sir Smile, his Neighbor:) nay, there's comfort in't, Whiles other men haue Gates, and those Gates open'd (As mine) against their will. Should all despaire That haue reuolted Wiues, the tenth of Mankind Would hang themselues. Physick for't, there's none: It is a bawdy Planet, that will strike Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powrefull: thinke it: From East, West, North, and South, be it concluded, No Barricado for a Belly. Know't, It will let in and out the Enemy, With bag and baggage: many thousand on's Haue the Disease, and feele't not. How now Boy? Mam. I am like you say

Leo. Why, that's some comfort.
What? Camillo there?
Cam. I, my good Lord

Leo. Goe play (Mamillius) thou'rt an honest man:
Camillo, this great Sir will yet stay longer

Cam. You had much adoe to make his Anchor hold,
When you cast out, it still came home

Leo. Didst note it?
Cam. He would not stay at your Petitions, made
His Businesse more materiall

Leo. Didst perceiue it? They're here with me already; whisp'ring, rounding: Sicilia is a so-forth: 'tis farre gone, When I shall gust it last. How cam't (Camillo) That he did stay? Cam. At the good Queenes entreatie

Leo. At the Queenes be't: Good should be pertinent, But so it is, it is not. Was this taken By any vnderstanding Pate but thine? For thy Conceit is soaking, will draw in More then the common Blocks. Not noted, is't, But of the finer Natures? by some Seueralls Of Head-peece extraordinarie? Lower Messes Perchance are to this Businesse purblind? say

Cam. Businesse, my Lord? I thinke most vnderstand
Bohemia stayes here longer

Leo. Ha?
Cam. Stayes here longer

Leo. I, but why?
Cam. To satisfie your Highnesse, and the Entreaties
Of our most gracious Mistresse

Leo. Satisfie? Th' entreaties of your Mistresse? Satisfie? Let that suffice. I haue trusted thee (Camillo) With all the neerest things to my heart, as well My Chamber-Councels, wherein (Priest-like) thou Hast cleans'd my Bosome: I, from thee departed Thy Penitent reform'd: but we haue been Deceiu'd in thy Integritie, deceiu'd In that which seemes so

Cam. Be it forbid (my Lord.) Leo. To bide vpon't: thou art not honest: or If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a Coward, Which hoxes honestie behind, restrayning From Course requir'd: or else thou must be counted A Seruant, grafted in my serious Trust, And therein negligent: or else a Foole, That seest a Game play'd home, the rich Stake drawne, And tak'st it all for ieast

Cam. My gracious Lord, I may be negligent, foolish, and fearefull, In euery one of these, no man is free, But that his negligence, his folly, feare, Among the infinite doings of the World, Sometime puts forth in your affaires (my Lord.) If euer I were wilfull-negligent, It was my folly: if industriously I play'd the Foole, it was my negligence, Not weighing well the end: if euer fearefull To doe a thing, where I the issue doubted, Whereof the execution did cry out Against the non-performance, 'twas a feare Which oft infects the wisest: these (my Lord) Are such allow'd Infirmities, that honestie Is neuer free of. But beseech your Grace Be plainer with me, let me know my Trespas By it's owne visage; if I then deny it, 'Tis none of mine

Leo. Ha' not you seene Camillo? (But that's past doubt: you haue, or your eye-glasse Is thicker then a Cuckolds Horne) or heard? (For to a Vision so apparant, Rumor Cannot be mute) or thought? (for Cogitation Resides not in that man, that do's not thinke) My Wife is slipperie? If thou wilt confesse, Or else be impudently negatiue, To haue nor Eyes, nor Eares, nor Thought, then say My Wife's a Holy-Horse, deserues a Name As ranke as any Flax-Wench, that puts to Before her troth-plight: say't, and iustify't

Cam. I would not be a stander-by, to heare My Soueraigne Mistresse clouded so, without My present vengeance taken: 'shrew my heart, You neuer spoke what did become you lesse Then this; which to reiterate, were sin As deepe as that, though true

Leo. Is whispering nothing? Is leaning Cheeke to Cheeke? is meating Noses? Kissing with in-side Lip? stopping the Cariere Of Laughter, with a sigh? (a Note infallible Of breaking Honestie) horsing foot on foot? Skulking in corners? wishing Clocks more swift? Houres, Minutes? Noone, Mid-night? and all Eyes Blind with the Pin and Web, but theirs; theirs onely, That would vnseene be wicked? Is this nothing? Why then the World, and all that's in't, is nothing, The couering Skie is nothing, Bohemia nothing, My Wife is nothing, nor Nothing haue these Nothings, If this be nothing

Cam. Good my Lord, be cur'd Of this diseas'd Opinion, and betimes, For 'tis most dangerous

Leo. Say it be, 'tis true

Cam. No, no, my Lord

Leo. It is: you lye, you lye: I say thou lyest Camillo, and I hate thee, Pronounce thee a grosse Lowt, a mindlesse Slaue, Or else a houering Temporizer, that Canst with thine eyes at once see good and euill, Inclining to them both: were my Wiues Liuer Infected (as her life) she would not liue The running of one Glasse

Cam. Who do's infect her? Leo. Why he that weares her like her Medull, hanging About his neck (Bohemia) who, if I Had Seruants true about me, that bare eyes To see alike mine Honor, as their Profits, (Their owne particular Thrifts) they would doe that Which should vndoe more doing: I, and thou His Cup-bearer, whom I from meaner forme Haue Bench'd, and rear'd to Worship, who may'st see Plainely, as Heauen sees Earth, and Earth sees Heauen, How I am gall'd, might'st be-spice a Cup, To giue mine Enemy a lasting Winke: Which Draught to me, were cordiall

Cam. Sir (my Lord) I could doe this, and that with no rash Potion, But with a lingring Dram, that should not worke Maliciously, like Poyson: But I cannot Beleeue this Crack to be in my dread Mistresse (So soueraignely being Honorable.) I haue lou'd thee, Leo. Make that thy question, and goe rot: Do'st thinke I am so muddy, so vnsetled, To appoint my selfe in this vexation? Sully the puritie and whitenesse of my Sheetes (Which to preserue, is Sleepe; which being spotted, Is Goades, Thornes, Nettles, Tayles of Waspes) Giue scandall to the blood o'th' Prince, my Sonne, (Who I doe thinke is mine, and loue as mine) Without ripe mouing to't? Would I doe this? Could man so blench? Cam. I must beleeue you (Sir) I doe, and will fetch off Bohemia for't: Prouided, that when hee's remou'd, your Highnesse Will take againe your Queene, as yours at first, Euen for your Sonnes sake, and thereby for sealing The Iniurie of Tongues, in Courts and Kingdomes Knowne, and ally'd to yours

Leo. Thou do'st aduise me, Euen so as I mine owne course haue set downe: Ile giue no blemish to her Honor, none

Cam. My Lord, Goe then; and with a countenance as cleare As Friendship weares at Feasts, keepe with Bohemia, And with your Queene: I am his Cup-bearer, If from me he haue wholesome Beueridge, Account me not your Seruant

Leo. This is all: Do't, and thou hast the one halfe of my heart; Do't not, thou splitt'st thine owne

Cam. Ile do't, my Lord

Leo. I wil seeme friendly, as thou hast aduis'd me.

Exit

Cam. O miserable Lady. But for me, What case stand I in? I must be the poysoner Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do't, Is the obedience to a Master; one, Who in Rebellion with himselfe, will haue All that are his, so too. To doe this deed, Promotion followes: If I could find example Of thousand's that had struck anoynted Kings, And flourish'd after, Il'd not do't: But since Nor Brasse, nor Stone, nor Parchment beares not one, Let Villanie it selfe forswear't. I must Forsake the Court: to do't, or no, is certaine To me a breake-neck. Happy Starre raigne now, Here comes Bohemia. Enter Polixenes.

Pol. This is strange: Me thinkes My fauor here begins to warpe. Not speake? Good day Camillo

Cam. Hayle most Royall Sir

Pol. What is the Newes i'th' Court? Cam. None rare (my Lord.) Pol. The King hath on him such a countenance, As he had lost some Prouince, and a Region Lou'd, as he loues himselfe: euen now I met him With customarie complement, when hee Wafting his eyes to th' contrary, and falling A Lippe of much contempt, speedes from me, and So leaues me, to consider what is breeding, That changes thus his Manners

Cam. I dare not know (my Lord.) Pol. How, dare not? doe not? doe you know, and dare not? Be intelligent to me, 'tis thereabouts: For to your selfe, what you doe know, you must, And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo, Your chang'd complexions are to me a Mirror, Which shewes me mine chang'd too: for I must be A partie in this alteration, finding My selfe thus alter'd with't

Cam. There is a sicknesse Which puts some of vs in distemper, but I cannot name the Disease, and it is caught Of you, that yet are well

Pol. How caught of me? Make me not sighted like the Basilisque. I haue look'd on thousands, who haue sped the better By my regard, but kill'd none so: Camillo, As you are certainely a Gentleman, thereto Clerke-like experienc'd, which no lesse adornes Our Gentry, then our Parents Noble Names, In whose successe we are gentle: I beseech you, If you know ought which do's behoue my knowledge, Thereof to be inform'd, imprison't not In ignorant concealement

Cam. I may not answere

Pol. A Sicknesse caught of me, and yet I well? I must be answer'd. Do'st thou heare Camillo, I coniure thee, by all the parts of man, Which Honor do's acknowledge, whereof the least Is not this Suit of mine, that thou declare What incidencie thou do'st ghesse of harme Is creeping toward me; how farre off, how neere, Which way to be preuented, if to be: If not, how best to beare it

Cam. Sir, I will tell you, Since I am charg'd in Honor, and by him That I thinke Honorable: therefore marke my counsaile, Which must be eu'n as swiftly followed, as I meane to vtter it; or both your selfe, and me, Cry lost, and so good night

Pol. On, good Camillo

Cam. I am appointed him to murther you

Pol. By whom, Camillo?
Cam. By the King

Pol. For what? Cam. He thinkes, nay with all confidence he sweares, As he had seen't, or beene an Instrument To vice you to't, that you haue toucht his Queene Forbiddenly

Pol. Oh then, my best blood turne To an infected Gelly, and my Name Be yoak'd with his, that did betray the Best: Turne then my freshest Reputation to A sauour, that may strike the dullest Nosthrill Where I arriue, and my approch be shun'd, Nay hated too, worse then the great'st Infection That ere was heard, or read

Cam. Sweare his thought ouer By each particular Starre in Heauen, and By all their Influences; you may as well Forbid the Sea for to obey the Moone, As (or by Oath) remoue, or (Counsaile) shake The Fabrick of his Folly, whose foundation Is pyl'd vpon his Faith, and will continue The standing of his Body

Pol. How should this grow? Cam. I know not: but I am sure 'tis safer to Auoid what's growne, then question how 'tis borne. If therefore you dare trust my honestie, That lyes enclosed in this Trunke, which you Shall beare along impawnd, away to Night, Your Followers I will whisper to the Businesse, And will by twoes, and threes, at seuerall Posternes, Cleare them o'th' Citie: For my selfe, Ile put My fortunes to your seruice (which are here By this discouerie lost.) Be not vncertaine, For by the honor of my Parents, I Haue vttred Truth: which if you seeke to proue, I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer, Then one condemnd by the Kings owne mouth: Thereon his Execution sworne

Pol. I doe beleeue thee: I saw his heart in's face. Giue me thy hand, Be Pilot to me, and thy places shall Still neighbour mine. My Ships are ready, and My people did expect my hence departure Two dayes agoe. This Iealousie Is for a precious Creature: as shee's rare, Must it be great; and, as his Person's mightie, Must it be violent: and, as he do's conceiue, He is dishonor'd by a man, which euer Profess'd to him: why his Reuenges must In that be made more bitter. Feare ore-shades me: Good Expedition be my friend, and comfort The gracious Queene, part of his Theame; but nothing Of his ill-ta'ne suspition. Come Camillo, I will respect thee as a Father, if Thou bear'st my life off, hence: Let vs auoid

Cam. It is in mine authoritie to command The Keyes of all the Posternes: Please your Highnesse To take the vrgent houre. Come Sir, away.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Hermione, Mamillius, Ladies: Leontes, Antigonus, Lords.

Her. Take the Boy to you: he so troubles me,
'Tis past enduring

Lady. Come (my gracious Lord)
Shall I be your play-fellow?
Mam. No, Ile none of you

Lady. Why (my sweet Lord?)
Mam. You'le kisse me hard, and speake to me, as if
I were a Baby still. I loue you better

2.Lady. And why so (my Lord?)
Mam. Not for because
Your Browes are blacker (yet black-browes they say
Become some Women best, so that there be not
Too much haire there, but in a Cemicircle,
Or a halfe-Moone, made with a Pen.)
2.Lady. Who taught 'this?
Mam. I learn'd it out of Womens faces: pray now,
What colour are your eye-browes?
Lady. Blew (my Lord.)
Mam. Nay, that's a mock: I haue seene a Ladies Nose
That ha's beene blew, but not her eye-browes

Lady. Harke ye, The Queene (your Mother) rounds apace: we shall Present our seruices to a fine new Prince One of these dayes, and then youl'd wanton with vs, If we would haue you

2.Lady. She is spread of late Into a goodly Bulke (good time encounter her.) Her. What wisdome stirs amongst you? Come Sir, now I am for you againe: 'Pray you sit by vs, And tell's a Tale

Mam. Merry, or sad, shal't be?
Her. As merry as you will

Mam. A sad Tale's best for Winter:
I haue one of Sprights, and Goblins

Her. Let's haue that (good Sir.) Come-on, sit downe, come-on, and doe your best, To fright me with your Sprights: you're powrefull at it

Mam. There was a man

Her. Nay, come sit downe: then on

Mam. Dwelt by a Church-yard: I will tell it softly,
Yond Crickets shall not heare it

Her. Come on then, and giu't me in mine eare

Leon. Was hee met there? his Traine? Camillo with him? Lord. Behind the tuft of Pines I met them, neuer Saw I men scowre so on their way: I eyed them Euen to their Ships

Leo. How blest am I In my iust 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 drinke; depart, And yet partake no venome: (for his knowledge Is not infected) but if one present Th' abhor'd Ingredient to his eye, make knowne How he hath drunke, he cracks his gorge, his sides With violent Hefts: I haue drunke, and seene the Spider. Camillo was his helpe in this, his Pandar: There is a Plot against my Life, my Crowne; All's true that is mistrusted: that false Villaine, Whom I employ'd, was pre-employ'd by him: He ha's discouer'd my Designe, and I Remaine a pinch'd Thing; yea, a very Trick For them to play at will: how came the Posternes So easily open? Lord. By his great authority, Which often hath no lesse preuail'd, then so, On your command

Leo. I know't too well. Giue me the Boy, I am glad you did not nurse him: Though he do's beare some signes of me, yet you Haue too much blood in him

Her. What is this? Sport? Leo. Beare the Boy hence, he shall not come about her, Away with him, and let her sport her selfe With that shee's big-with, for 'tis Polixenes Ha's made thee swell thus

Her. But Il'd say he had not; And Ile be sworne you would beleeue my saying, How e're you leane to th' Nay-ward

Leo. You (my Lords) Looke on her, marke her well: be but about To say she is a goodly Lady, and The iustice of your hearts will thereto adde 'Tis pitty shee's not honest: Honorable; Prayse her but for this her without-dore-Forme, (Which on my faith deserues high speech) and straight The Shrug, the Hum, or Ha, (these Petty-brands That Calumnie doth vse; Oh, I am out, That Mercy do's, for Calumnie will seare Vertue it selfe) these Shrugs, these Hum's, and Ha's, When you haue said shee's goodly, come betweene, Ere you can say shee's honest: But be't knowne (From him that ha's most cause to grieue it should be) Shee's an Adultresse

Her. Should a Villaine say so, (The most replenish'd Villaine in the World) He were as much more Villaine: you (my Lord) Doe but mistake

Leo. You haue mistooke (my Lady) Polixenes for Leontes: O thou Thing, (Which Ile not call a Creature of thy place, Least Barbarisme (making me the precedent) Should a like Language vse to all degrees, And mannerly distinguishment leaue out, Betwixt the Prince and Begger:) I haue said Shee's an Adultresse, I haue said with whom: More; shee's a Traytor, and Camillo is A Federarie with her, and one that knowes What she should shame to know her selfe, But with her most vild Principall: that shee's A Bed-swaruer, euen as bad as those That Vulgars giue bold'st Titles; I, and priuy To this their late escape

Her. No (by my life) Priuy to none of this: how will this grieue you, When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that You thus haue publish'd me? Gentle my Lord, You scarce can right me throughly, then, to say You did mistake

Leo. No: if I mistake In those Foundations which I build vpon, The Centre is not bigge enough to beare A Schoole-Boyes Top. Away with her, to Prison: He who shall speake for her, is a farre-off guiltie, But that he speakes

Her. There's some ill Planet raignes: I must be patient, till the Heauens looke With an aspect more fauorable. Good my Lords, I am not prone to weeping (as our Sex Commonly are) the want of which vaine dew Perchance shall dry your pitties: but I haue That honorable Griefe lodg'd here, which burnes Worse then Teares drowne: 'beseech you all (my Lords) With thoughts so qualified, as your Charities Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so The Kings will be perform'd

Leo. Shall I be heard? Her. Who is't that goes with me? 'beseech your Highnes My Women may be with me, for you see My plight requires it. Doe not weepe (good Fooles) There is no cause: When you shall know your Mistris Ha's deseru'd Prison, then abound in Teares, As I come out; this Action I now goe on, Is for my better grace. Adieu (my Lord) I neuer wish'd to see you sorry, now I trust I shall: my Women come, you haue leaue

Leo. Goe, doe our bidding: hence

Lord. Beseech your Highnesse call the Queene againe

Antig. Be certaine what you do (Sir) least your Iustice Proue violence, in the which three great ones suffer, Your Selfe, your Queene, your Sonne

Lord. For her (my Lord) I dare my life lay downe, and will do't (Sir) Please you t' accept it, that the Queene is spotlesse I'th' eyes of Heauen, and to you (I meane In this, which you accuse her.) Antig. If it proue Shee's otherwise, Ile keepe my Stables where I lodge my Wife, Ile goe in couples with her: Then when I feele, and see her, no farther trust her: For euery ynch of Woman in the World, I, euery dram of Womans flesh is false, If she be

Leo. Hold your peaces

Lord. Good my Lord

Antig. It is for you we speake, not for our selues: You are abus'd, and by some putter on, That will be damn'd for't: would I knew the Villaine, I would Land-damne him: be she honor-flaw'd, I haue three daughters: the eldest is eleuen; The second, and the third, nine: and some fiue: If this proue true, they'l pay for't. By mine Honor Ile gell'd em all: fourteene they shall not see To bring false generations: they are co-heyres, And I had rather glib my selfe, then they Should not produce faire issue

Leo. Cease, no more: You smell this businesse with a sence as cold As is a dead-mans nose: but I do see't, and feel't, As you feele doing thus: and see withall The Instruments that feele

Antig. If it be so, We neede no graue to burie honesty, There's not a graine of it, the face to sweeten Of the whole dungy-earth

Leo. What? lacke I credit? Lord. I had rather you did lacke then I (my Lord) Vpon this ground: and more it would content me To haue her Honor true, then your suspition Be blam'd for't how you might

Leo. Why what neede we Commune with you of this? but rather follow Our forcefull instigation? Our prerogatiue Cals not your Counsailes, but our naturall goodnesse Imparts this: which, if you, or stupified, Or seeming so, in skill, cannot, or will not Rellish a truth, like vs: informe your selues, We neede no more of your aduice: the matter, The losse, the gaine, the ord'ring on't, Is all properly ours

Antig. And I wish (my Liege) You had onely in your silent iudgement tride it, Without more ouerture

Leo. How could that be? Either thou art most ignorant by age, Or thou wer't borne a foole: Camillo's flight Added to their Familiarity (Which was as grosse, as euer touch'd coniecture, That lack'd sight onely, nought for approbation But onely seeing, all other circumstances Made vp to'th deed) doth push-on this proceeding. Yet, for a greater confirmation (For in an Acte of this importance, 'twere Most pitteous to be wilde) I haue dispatch'd in post, To sacred Delphos, to Appollo's Temple, Cleomines and Dion, whom you know Of stuff'd-sufficiency: Now, from the Oracle They will bring all, whose spirituall counsaile had Shall stop, or spurre me. Haue I done well? Lord. Well done (my Lord.) Leo. Though I am satisfide, and neede no more Then what I know, yet shall the Oracle Giue rest to th' mindes of others; such as he Whose ignorant credulitie, will not Come vp to th' truth. So haue we thought it good From our free person, she should be confinde, Least that the treachery of the two, fled hence, Be left her to performe. Come follow vs, We are to speake in publique: for this businesse Will raise vs all

Antig. To laughter, as I take it,
If the good truth, were knowne.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Paulina, a Gentleman, Gaoler, Emilia.

Paul. The Keeper of the prison, call to him: Let him haue knowledge who I am. Good Lady, No Court in Europe is too good for thee, What dost thou then in prison? Now good Sir, You know me, do you not? Gao. For a worthy Lady, And one, who much I honour

Pau. Pray you then,
Conduct me to the Queene

Gao. I may not (Madam)
To the contrary I haue expresse commandment

Pau. Here's ado, to locke vp honesty & honour from Th' accesse of gentle visitors. Is't lawfull pray you To see her Women? Any of them? Emilia? Gao. So please you (Madam) To put a-part these your attendants, I Shall bring Emilia forth

Pau. I pray now call her:
With-draw your selues

Gao. And Madam,
I must be present at your Conference

Pau. Well: be't so: prethee. Heere's such adoe, to make no staine, a staine, As passes colouring. Deare Gentlewoman, How fares our gracious Lady? Emil. As well as one so great, and so forlorne May hold together: On her frights, and greefes (Which neuer tender Lady hath borne greater) She is, something before her time, deliuer'd

Pau. A boy? Emil. A daughter, and a goodly babe, Lusty, and like to liue: the Queene receiues Much comfort in't: Sayes, my poore prisoner, I am innocent as you, Pau. I dare be sworne: These dangerous, vnsafe Lunes i'th' King, beshrew them: He must be told on't, and he shall: the office Becomes a woman best. Ile take't vpon me, If I proue hony-mouth'd, let my tongue blister. And neuer to my red-look'd Anger bee The Trumpet any more: pray you (Emilia) Commend my best obedience to the Queene, If she dares trust me with her little babe, I'le shew't the King, and vndertake to bee Her Aduocate to th' lowd'st. We do not know How he may soften at the sight o'th' Childe: The silence often of pure innocence Perswades, when speaking failes

Emil. Most worthy Madam, Your honor, and your goodnesse is so euident, That your free vndertaking cannot misse A thriuing yssue: there is no Lady liuing So meete for this great errand; please your Ladiship To visit the next roome, Ile presently Acquaint the Queene of your most noble offer, Who, but to day hammered of this designe, But durst not tempt a minister of honour Least she should be deny'd

Paul. Tell her (Emilia) Ile vse that tongue I haue: If wit flow from't As boldnesse from my bosome, le't not be doubted I shall do good, Emil. Now be you blest for it. Ile to the Queene: please you come something neerer

Gao. Madam, if't please the Queene to send the babe, I know not what I shall incurre, to passe it, Hauing no warrant

Pau. You neede not feare it (sir) This Childe was prisoner to the wombe, and is By Law and processe of great Nature, thence Free'd, and enfranchis'd, not a partie to The anger of the King, nor guilty of (If any be) the trespasse of the Queene

Gao. I do beleeue it

Paul. Do not you feare: vpon mine honor, I
Will stand betwixt you, and danger.

Exeunt.

Scaena Tertia.

Enter Leontes, Seruants, Paulina, Antigonus, and Lords.

Leo. Nor night, nor day, no rest: It is but weaknesse To beare the matter thus: meere weaknesse, if The cause were not in being: part o'th cause, She, th' Adultresse: for the harlot-King Is quite beyond mine Arme, out of the blanke And leuell of my braine: plot-proofe: but shee, I can hooke to me: say that she were gone, Giuen to the fire, a moity of my rest Might come to me againe. Whose there? Ser. My Lord

Leo. How do's the boy?
Ser. He tooke good rest to night: 'tis hop'd
His sicknesse is discharg'd

Leo. To see his Noblenesse, Conceyuing the dishonour of his Mother. He straight declin'd, droop'd, tooke it deeply, Fasten'd, and fix'd the shame on't in himselfe: Threw-off his Spirit, his Appetite, his Sleepe, And down-right languish'd. Leaue me solely: goe, See how he fares: Fie, fie, no thought of him, The very thought of my Reuenges that way Recoyle vpon me: in himselfe too mightie, And in his parties, his Alliance; Let him be, Vntill a time may serue. 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 powre. Enter Paulina.

Lord. You must not enter

Paul. Nay rather (good my Lords) be second to me: Feare you his tyrannous passion more (alas) Then the Queenes life? A gracious innocent soule, More free, then he is iealous

Antig. That's enough

Ser. Madam; he hath not slept to night, commanded
None should come at him

Pau. Not so hot (good Sir) I come to bring him sleepe. 'Tis such as you That creepe like shadowes by him, and do sighe At each his needlesse heauings: such as you Nourish the cause of his awaking. I Do come with words, as medicinall, as true; (Honest, as either;) to purge him of that humor, That presses him from sleepe

Leo. Who noyse there, hoe?
Pau. No noyse (my Lord) but needfull conference,
About some Gossips for your Highnesse