| ACT III SCENE II | A court of Justice. | |
| [Enter LEONTES, Lords, and Officers] |
| LEONTES | This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce, |
| Even pushes 'gainst our heart: the party tried |
| The daughter of a king, our wife, and one |
| Of us too much beloved. Let us be clear'd |
| Of being tyrannous, since we so openly | 5 |
| Proceed in justice, which shall have due course, |
| Even to the guilt or the purgation. |
| Produce the prisoner. |
| Officer | It is his highness' pleasure that the queen |
| Appear in person here in court. Silence! | 10 |
| [
Enter HERMIONE guarded;
PAULINA and Ladies attending
] |
| LEONTES | Read the indictment. |
| Officer | [Reads] Hermione, queen to the worthy
|
| Leontes, king of Sicilia, thou art here accused and |
| arraigned of high treason, in committing adultery |
| with Polixenes, king of Bohemia, and conspiring | 15 |
| with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign |
| lord the king, thy royal husband: the pretence |
| whereof being by circumstances partly laid open, |
| thou, Hermione, contrary to the faith and allegiance |
| of a true subject, didst counsel and aid them, for | 20 |
| their better safety, to fly away by night. |
| HERMIONE | Since what I am to say must be but that |
| Which contradicts my accusation and |
| The testimony on my part no other |
| But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me | 25 |
| To say 'not guilty:' mine integrity |
| Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it, |
| Be so received. But thus: if powers divine |
| Behold our human actions, as they do, |
| I doubt not then but innocence shall make | 30 |
| False accusation blush and tyranny |
| Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know, |
| Who least will seem to do so, my past life |
| Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true, |
| As I am now unhappy; which is more | 35 |
| Than history can pattern, though devised |
| And play'd to take spectators. For behold me |
| A fellow of the royal bed, which owe |
| A moiety of the throne a great king's daughter, |
| The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing | 40 |
| To prate and talk for life and honour 'fore |
| Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it |
| As I weigh grief, which I would spare: for honour, |
| 'Tis a derivative from me to mine, |
| And only that I stand for. I appeal | 45 |
| To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes |
| Came to your court, how I was in your grace, |
| How merited to be so; since he came, |
| With what encounter so uncurrent I |
| Have strain'd to appear thus: if one jot beyond | 50 |
| The bound of honour, or in act or will |
| That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts |
| Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin |
| Cry fie upon my grave! |
| LEONTES | I ne'er heard yet | 55 |
| That any of these bolder vices wanted |
| Less impudence to gainsay what they did |
| Than to perform it first. |
| HERMIONE | That's true enough; |
| Through 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me. | 60 |
| LEONTES | You will not own it. |
| HERMIONE | More than mistress of |
| Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not |
| At all acknowledge. For Polixenes, |
| With whom I am accused, I do confess | 65 |
| I loved him as in honour he required, |
| With such a kind of love as might become |
| A lady like me, with a love even such, |
| So and no other, as yourself commanded: |
| Which not to have done I think had been in me | 70 |
| Both disobedience and ingratitude |
| To you and toward your friend, whose love had spoke, |
| Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely |
| That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy, |
| I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd | 75 |
| For me to try how: all I know of it |
| Is that Camillo was an honest man; |
| And why he left your court, the gods themselves, |
| Wotting no more than I, are ignorant. |
| LEONTES | You knew of his departure, as you know | 80 |
| What you have underta'en to do in's absence. |
| HERMIONE | Sir, |
| You speak a language that I understand not: |
| My life stands in the level of your dreams, |
| Which I'll lay down. | 85 |
| LEONTES | Your actions are my dreams; |
| You had a bastard by Polixenes, |
| And I but dream'd it. As you were past all shame,-- |
| Those of your fact are so--so past all truth: |
| Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as | 90 |
| Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself, |
| No father owning it,--which is, indeed, |
| More criminal in thee than it,--so thou |
| Shalt feel our justice, in whose easiest passage |
| Look for no less than death. | 95 |
| HERMIONE | Sir, spare your threats: |
| The bug which you would fright me with I seek. |
| To me can life be no commodity: |
| The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, |
| I do give lost; for I do feel it gone, | 100 |
| But know not how it went. My second joy |
| And first-fruits of my body, from his presence |
| I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort |
| Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast, |
| The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth, | 105 |
| Haled out to murder: myself on every post |
| Proclaimed a strumpet: with immodest hatred |
| The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs |
| To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried |
| Here to this place, i' the open air, before | 110 |
| I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege, |
| Tell me what blessings I have here alive, |
| That I should fear to die? Therefore proceed. |
| But yet hear this: mistake me not; no life, |
| I prize it not a straw, but for mine honour, | 115 |
| Which I would free, if I shall be condemn'd |
| Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else |
| But what your jealousies awake, I tell you |
| 'Tis rigor and not law. Your honours all, |
| I do refer me to the oracle: | 120 |
| Apollo be my judge! |
| First Lord | This your request |
| Is altogether just: therefore bring forth, |
| And in Apollos name, his oracle. |
| [Exeunt certain Officers] |
| HERMIONE | The Emperor of Russia was my father: | 125 |
| O that he were alive, and here beholding |
| His daughter's trial! that he did but see |
| The flatness of my misery, yet with eyes |
| Of pity, not revenge! |
| [Re-enter Officers, with CLEOMENES and DION] |
| Officer | You here shall swear upon this sword of justice, | 130 |
| That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have |
| Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought |
| The seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd |
| Of great Apollo's priest; and that, since then, |
| You have not dared to break the holy seal | 135 |
| Nor read the secrets in't. |
| DION | All this we swear. |
| LEONTES | Break up the seals and read. |
| Officer | [Reads] Hermione is chaste;
|
| Polixenes blameless; Camillo a true subject; Leontes | 140 |
| a jealous tyrant; his innocent babe truly begotten; |
| and the king shall live without an heir, if that |
| which is lost be not found. |
| Lords | Now blessed be the great Apollo! |
| HERMIONE | Praised! | 145 |
| LEONTES | Hast thou read truth? |
| Officer | Ay, my lord; even so |
| As it is here set down. |
| LEONTES | There is no truth at all i' the oracle: |
| The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood. | 150 |
| [Enter Servant] |
| Servant | My lord the king, the king! |
| LEONTES | What is the business? |
| Servant | O sir, I shall be hated to report it! |
| The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear |
| Of the queen's speed, is gone. | 155 |
| LEONTES | How! gone! |
| Servant | Is dead. |
| LEONTES | Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves |
| Do strike at my injustice. |
[HERMIONE swoons] |
| How now there! | 160 |
| PAULINA | This news is mortal to the queen: look down |
| And see what death is doing. |
| LEONTES | Take her hence: |
| Her heart is but o'ercharged; she will recover: |
| I have too much believed mine own suspicion: | 165 |
| Beseech you, tenderly apply to her |
| Some remedies for life. |
[Exeunt PAULINA and Ladies, with HERMIONE] |
| Apollo, pardon |
| My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle! |
| I'll reconcile me to Polixenes, | 170 |
| New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo, |
| Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy; |
| For, being transported by my jealousies |
| To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose |
| Camillo for the minister to poison | 175 |
| My friend Polixenes: which had been done, |
| But that the good mind of Camillo tardied |
| My swift command, though I with death and with |
| Reward did threaten and encourage him, |
| Not doing 't and being done: he, most humane | 180 |
| And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest |
| Unclasp'd my practise, quit his fortunes here, |
| Which you knew great, and to the hazard |
| Of all encertainties himself commended, |
| No richer than his honour: how he glisters | 185 |
| Thorough my rust! and how his pity |
| Does my deeds make the blacker! |
| [Re-enter PAULINA] |
| PAULINA | Woe the while! |
| O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it, |
| Break too. | 190 |
| First Lord | What fit is this, good lady? |
| PAULINA | What studied torments, tyrant, hast 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 | 195 |
| To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny |
| Together working with thy jealousies, |
| 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 | 200 |
| Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. |
| That thou betray'dst Polixenes,'twas nothing; |
| That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant |
| And damnable ingrateful: nor was't much, |
| Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's honour, | 205 |
| 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; though a devil |
| Would have shed water out of fire ere done't: | 210 |
| Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death |
| Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts, |
| Thoughts high for one so tender, cleft the heart |
| That could conceive a gross and foolish sire |
| Blemish'd his gracious dam: this is not, no, | 215 |
| Laid to thy answer: but the last,--O lords, |
| When I have said, cry 'woe!' the queen, the queen, |
| The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead, |
| and vengeance for't |
| Not dropp'd down yet. | 220 |
| First Lord | The higher powers forbid! |
| PAULINA | I say she's dead; I'll swear't. If word nor oath |
| Prevail not, go and see: if you can bring |
| Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye, |
| Heat outwardly or breath within, I'll serve you | 225 |
| As I would do the gods. But, O thou tyrant! |
| Do not repent these things, for they are heavier |
| Than all thy woes can stir; therefore betake thee |
| To nothing but despair. A thousand knees |
| Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting, | 230 |
| Upon a barren mountain and still winter |
| In storm perpetual, could not move the gods |
| To look that way thou wert. |
| LEONTES | Go on, go on |
| Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved | 235 |
| All tongues to talk their bitterest. |
| First Lord | Say no more: |
| Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault |
| I' the boldness of your speech. |
| PAULINA | I am sorry for't: | 240 |
| All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, |
| I do repent. Alas! I have show'd too much |
| The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd |
| To the noble heart. What's gone and what's past help |
| Should be past grief: do not receive affliction | 245 |
| 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!-- | 250 |
| I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children; |
| I'll not remember you of my own lord, |
| Who is lost too: take your patience to you, |
| And I'll say nothing. |
| LEONTES | Thou didst speak but well | 255 |
| When most the truth; which I receive much better |
| Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me |
| To the dead bodies of my queen and son: |
| One grave shall be for both: upon them shall |
| The causes of their death appear, unto | 260 |
| Our shame perpetual. Once a day I'll visit |
| The chapel where they lie, 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 | 265 |
| Unto these sorrows. |
| [Exeunt] |
The Winter's Tale: Plot Summary