Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The Winters Tale/Act 2 Scene 1
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 ifI were a Baby still. I loue you better.
2.Lady. And why so (my Lord?)
Mam. Not for becauseYour Browes are blacker (yet black-browes they sayBecome some Women best, so that there be notToo 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 NoseThat ha's beene blew, but not her eye-browes.
Lady. Harke ye,The Queene (your Mother) rounds apace: we shallPresent our seruices to a fine new PrinceOne of these dayes, and then youl'd wanton with vs,If we would haue you.
2.Lady. She is spread of lateInto a goodly Bulke (good time encounter her.)
Her. What wisdome stirs amongst you? Come Sir, nowI 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 withhim?
Lord. Behind the tuft of Pines I met them, neuerSaw I men scowre so on their way: I eyed themEuen to their Ships.
Leo. How blest am IIn my iust Censure? in my true Opinion?Alack, for lesser knowledge, how accurs'd,In being so blest? There may be in the CupA Spider steep'd, and one may drinke; depart,And yet partake no venome: (for his knowledgeIs not infected) but if one presentTh' abhor'd Ingredient to his eye, make knowneHow he hath drunke, he cracks his gorge, his sidesWith 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 IRemaine a pinch'd Thing; yea, a very TrickFor them to play at will: how came the PosternesSo 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 youHaue 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 selfeWith that shee's big-with, for 'tis PolixenesHa'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 aboutTo say she is a goodly Lady, andThe 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 straightThe Shrug, the Hum, or Ha, (these Petty-brandsThat Calumnie doth vse; Oh, I am out,That Mercy do's, for Calumnie will seareVertue 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 saidShee's an Adultresse, I haue said with whom:More; shee's a Traytor, and Camillo isA Federarie with her, and one that knowesWhat she should shame to know her selfe,But with her most vild Principall: that shee'sA Bed-swaruer, euen as bad as thoseThat Vulgars giue bold'st Titles; I, and priuyTo 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, thatYou thus haue publish'd me? Gentle my Lord,You scarce can right me throughly, then, to sayYou did mistake.
Leo. No: if I mistakeIn those Foundations which I build vpon,The Centre is not bigge enough to beareA 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 lookeWith an aspect more fauorable. Good my Lords,I am not prone to weeping (as our SexCommonly are) the want of which vaine dewPerchance shall dry your pitties: but I haueThat honorable Griefe lodg'd here, which burnesWorse then Teares drowne: 'beseech you all (my Lords)With thoughts so qualified, as your CharitiesShall best instruct you, measure me; and soThe Kings will be perform'd.
Leo. Shall I be heard?
Her. Who is't that goes with me? 'beseech your HighnesMy Women may be with me, for you seeMy plight requires it. Doe not weepe (good Fooles)There is no cause: When you shall know your MistrisHa'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, nowI 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 IusticeProue 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 spotlesseI'th' eyes of Heauen, and to you (I meaneIn this, which you accuse her.)
Antig. If it proueShee's otherwise, Ile keepe my Stables whereI 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 HonorIle gell'd em all: fourteene they shall not seeTo bring false generations: they are co-heyres,And I had rather glib my selfe, then theyShould not produce faire issue.
Leo. Cease, no more:You smell this businesse with a sence as coldAs is a dead-mans nose: but I do see't, and feel't,As you feele doing thus: and see withallThe 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 sweetenOf 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 meTo haue her Honor true, then your suspitionBe blam'd for't how you might.
Leo. Why what neede weCommune with you of this? but rather followOur forcefull instigation? Our prerogatiueCals not your Counsailes, but our naturall goodnesseImparts this: which, if you, or stupified,Or seeming so, in skill, cannot, or will notRellish 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 flightAdded to their Familiarity(Which was as grosse, as euer touch'd coniecture,That lack'd sight onely, nought for approbationBut onely seeing, all other circumstancesMade vp to'th deed) doth push-on this proceeding.Yet, for a greater confirmation(For in an Acte of this importance, 'twereMost pitteous to be wilde) I haue dispatch'd in post,To sacred Delphos, to Appollo's Temple,Cleomines and Dion, whom you knowOf stuff'd-sufficiency: Now, from the OracleThey will bring all, whose spirituall counsaile hadShall stop, or spurre me. Haue I done well?
Lord. Well done (my Lord.)
Leo. Though I am satisfide, and neede no moreThen what I know, yet shall the OracleGiue rest to th' mindes of others; such as heWhose ignorant credulitie, will notCome vp to th' truth. So haue we thought it goodFrom 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 businesseWill raise vs all.
Antig. To laughter, as I take it,Exeunt.If the good truth, were knowne.