Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The Winters Tale/Act 5 Scene 1

Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.


Enter Leontes, Cleomines, Dion, Paulina, Seruants:Florizel, Perdita.
Cleo. Sir, you haue done enough, and haue perform'dA Saint-like Sorrow: No fault could you make,Which you haue not redeem'd; indeed pay'd downeMore penitence, then done trespas: At the lastDoe, as the Heauens haue done; forget your euill,With them, forgiue your selfe.
Leo. Whilest I rememberHer, and her Vertues, I cannot forgetMy blemishes in them, and so still thinke ofThe wrong I did my selfe: which was so much,That Heire-lesse it hath made my Kingdome, andDestroy'd the sweet'st Companion, that ere manBred his hopes out of, true.
Paul. Too true (my Lord:)If one by one, you wedded all the World,Or from the All that are, tooke something good,To make a perfect Woman; she you kill'd,Would be vnparallell'd.
Leo. I thinke so. Kill'd?She I kill'd? I did so: but thou strik'st meSorely, to say I did: it is as bitterVpon thy Tongue, as in my Thought. Now, good now,Say so but seldome.
Cleo. Not at all, good Lady:You might haue spoken a thousand things, that wouldHaue done the time more benefit, and grac'dYour kindnesse better.
Paul. You are one of thoseWould haue him wed againe.
Dio. If you would not so,You pitty not the State, nor the RemembranceOf his most Soueraigne Name: Consider little,What Dangers, by his Highnesse faile of Issue,May drop vpon his Kingdome, and deuoureIncertaine lookers on. What were more holy,Then to reioyce the former Queene is well?What holyer, then for Royalties repayre,For present comfort, and for future good,To blesse the Bed of Maiestie againeWith a sweet Fellow to't?
Paul. There is none worthy,(Respecting her that's gone:) besides the GodsWill haue fulfill'd their secret purposes:For ha's not the Diuine Apollo said?Is't not the tenor of his Oracle,That King Leontes shall not haue an Heire,Till his lost Child be found? Which, that it shall,Is all as monstrous to our humane reason,As my Antigonus to breake his Graue,And come againe to me: who, on my life,Did perish with the Infant. 'Tis your councell,My Lord should to the Heauens be contrary,Oppose against their wills. Care not for Issue,The Crowne will find an Heire. Great AlexanderLeft his to th' Worthiest: so his SuccessorWas like to be the best.
Leo. Good Paulina,Who hast the memorie of HermioneI know in honor: O, that euer IHad squar'd me to thy councell: then, euen now,I might haue look'd vpon my Queenes full eyes,Haue taken Treasure from her Lippes.
Paul. And left themMore rich, for what they yeelded.
Leo. Thou speak'st truth:No more such Wiues, therefore no Wife: one worse,And better vs'd, would make her Sainted SpiritAgaine possesse her Corps, and on this Stage(Where we Offendors now appeare) Soule-vext,And begin, why to me?
Paul. Had she such power,She had iust such cause.
Leo. She had, and would incense meTo murther her I marryed.
Paul. I should so:Were I the Ghost that walk'd, Il'd bid you markeHer eye, and tell me for what dull part in'tYou chose her: then Il'd shrieke, that euen your earesShould rift to heare me, and the words that follow'd,Should be, Remember mine.
Leo. Starres, Starres,And all eyes else, dead coales: feare thou no Wife;Ile haue no Wife, Paulina.
Paul. Will you sweareNeuer to marry, but by my free leaue?
Leo. Neuer (Paulina) so be bless'd my Spirit.
Paul. Then good my Lords, beare witnesse to his Oath.
Cleo. You tempt him ouer-much.
Paul. Vnlesse another,As like Hermione, as is her Picture,Affront his eye.
Cleo. Good Madame, I haue done.
Paul. Yet if my Lord will marry: if you will, Sir;No remedie but you will: Giue me the OfficeTo chuse you a Queene: she shall not be so youngAs was your former, but she shall be suchAs (walk'd your first Queenes Ghost) it should take ioyTo see her in your armes.
Leo. My true Paulina,We shall not marry, till thou bidst vs.
Paul. ThatShall be when your first Queene's againe in breath:Neuer till then.
Enter a Seruant.
Ser. One that giues out himselfe Prince Florizell,Sonne of Polixenes, with his Princesse (sheThe fairest I haue yet beheld) desires accesseTo your high presence.
Leo. What with him? he comes notLike to his Fathers Greatnesse: his approach(So out of circumstance, and suddaine) tells vs,'Tis not a Visitation fram'd, but forc'dBy need, and accident. What Trayne?
Ser. But few,And those but meane.
Leo. His Princesse (say you) with him?
Ser. I: the most peerelesse peece of Earth, I thinke,That ere the Sunne shone bright on.
Paul. Oh Hermione,As euery present Time doth boast it selfeAboue a better, gone; so must thy GraueGiue way to what's seene now. Sir, you your selfeHaue said, and writ so; but your writing nowIs colder then that Theame: she had not beene,Nor was not to be equall'd, thus your VerseFlow'd with her Beautie once; 'tis shrewdly ebb'd,To say you haue seene a better.
Ser. Pardon, Madame:The one, I haue almost forgot (your pardon:)The other, when she ha's obtayn'd your Eye,Will haue your Tongue too. This is a Creature,Would she begin a Sect, might quench the zealeOf all Professors else; make ProselytesOf who she but bid follow.
Paul. How? not women?
Ser. Women will loue her, that she is a WomanMore worth then any Man: Men, that she isThe rarest of all Women.
Leo. Goe Cleomines,Your selfe (assisted with your honor'd Friends)Bring them to our embracement. Still 'tis strange,Exit.He thus should steale vpon vs.
Paul. Had our Prince(Iewell of Children) seene this houre, he had payr'dWell with this Lord; there was not full a monethBetweene their births.
Leo. 'Prethee no more; cease: thou know'stHe dyes to me againe, when talk'd-of: sureWhen I shall see this Gentleman, thy speechesWill bring me to consider that, which mayVnfurnish me of Reason. They are come.Enter Florizell, Perdita, Cleomines, and others.Your Mother was most true to Wedlock, Prince,For she did print your Royall Father off,Conceiuing you. Were I but twentie one,Your Fathers Image is so hit in you,(His very ayre) that I should call you Brother,As I did him, and speake of something wildlyBy vs perform'd before. Most dearely welcome,And your faire Princesse (Goddesse) oh: alas,I lost a couple, that 'twixt Heauen and EarthMight thus haue stood, begetting wonder, asYou (gracious Couple) doe: and then I lost(All mine owne Folly) the Societie,Amitie too of your braue Father, whom(Though bearing Miserie) I desire my lifeOnce more to looke on him.
Flo. By his commandHaue I here touch'd Sicilia, and from himGiue you all greetings, that a King (at friend)Can send his Brother: and but Infirmitie(Which waits vpon worne times) hath something seiz'dHis wish'd Abilitie, he had himselfeThe Lands and Waters, 'twixt your Throne and his,Measur'd, to looke vpon you; whom he loues(He bad me say so) more then all the Scepters,And those that beare them, liuing.
Leo. Oh my Brother,(Good Gentleman) the wrongs I haue done thee, stirreAfresh within me: and these thy offices(So rarely kind) are as InterpretersOf my behind-hand slacknesse. Welcome hither,As is the Spring to th' Earth. And hath he tooExpos'd this Paragon to th' fearefull vsage(At least vngentle) of the dreadfull Neptune,To greet a man, not worth her paines; much lesse,Th' aduenture of her person?
Flo. Good my Lord,She came from Libia.
Leo. Where the Warlike Smalus,That Noble honor'd Lord, is fear'd, and lou'd?
Flo. Most Royall Sir,From thence: from him, whose DaughterHis Teares proclaym'd his parting with her: thence(A prosperous South-wind friendly) we haue cross'd,To execute the Charge my Father gaue me,For visiting your Highnesse: My best TraineI haue from your Sicilian Shores dismiss'd;Who for Bohemia bend, to signifieNot onely my successe in Libia (Sir)But my arriuall, and my Wifes, in safetieHere, where we are.
Leo. The blessed GodsPurge all Infection from our Ayre, whilest youDoe Clymate here: you haue a holy Father,A graceful Gentleman, against whose person (So sacred as it is) I haue done sinne,For which, the Heauens (taking angry note)Haue left me Issue-lesse: and your Father's bless'd(As he from Heauen merits it) with you,Worthy his goodnesse. What might I haue been,Might I a Sonne and Daughter now haue look'd on,Such goodly things as you?
Enter a Lord.
Lord. Most Noble Sir,That which I shall report, will beare no credit,Were not the proofe so nigh. Please you (great Sir)Bohemia greets you from himselfe, by me:Desires you to attach his Sonne, who ha's(His Dignitie, and Dutie both cast off)Fled from his Father, from his Hopes, and withA Shepheards Daughter.
Leo. Where's Bohemia? speake:
Lord. Here, in your Citie: I now came from him.I speake amazedly, and it becomesMy meruaile, and my Message. To your CourtWhiles he was hastning (in the Chase, it seemes,Of this faire Couple) meetes he on the wayThe Father of this seeming Lady, andHer Brother, hauing both their Countrey quitted,With this young Prince.
Flo. Camillo ha's betray'd me;Whose honor, and whose honestie till now,Endur'd all Weathers.
Lord. Lay't so to his charge:He's with the King your Father.
Leo. Who? Camillo?
Lord. Camillo (Sir:) I spake with him: who nowHa's these poore men in question. Neuer saw IWretches so quake: they kneele, they kisse the Earth;Forsweare themselues as often as they speake:Bohemia stops his eares, and threatens themWith diuers deaths, in death.
Perd. Oh my poore Father:The Heauen sets Spyes vpon vs, will not haueOur Contract celebrated.
Leo. You are marryed?
Flo. We are not (Sir) nor are we like to be:The Starres (I see) will kisse the Valleyes first:The oddes for high and low's alike.
Leo. My Lord,Is this the Daughter of a King?
Flo. She is,When once she is my Wife.
Leo. That once (I see) by your good Fathers speed,Will come-on very slowly. I am sorry(Most sorry) you haue broken from his liking,Where you were ty'd in dutie: and as sorry,Your Choice is not so rich in Worth, as Beautie,That you might well enioy her.
Flo. Deare, looke vp:Though Fortune, visible an Enemie,Should chase vs, with my Father; powre no iotHath she to change our Loues. Beseech you (Sir)Remember, since you ow'd no more to TimeThen I doe now: with thought of such Affections,Step forth mine Aduocate: at your request,My Father will graunt precious things, as Trifles.
Leo. Would he doe so, I'ld beg your precious Mistris,Which he counts but a Trifle.
Paul. Sir (my Liege)Your eye hath too much youth in't: not a moneth'Fore your Queene dy'd, she was more worth such gazes,Then what you looke on now.
Leo. I thought of her,Euen in these Lookes I made. But your PetitionIs yet vn-answer'd: I will to your Father:Your Honor not o're-throwne by your desires,I am friend to them, and you: Vpon which ErrandI now goe toward him: therefore follow me,And marke what way I make: Come good my Lord.Exeunt.