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Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not |
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes, |
With whom I am accused, I do confess |
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 |
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 |
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 |
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. |
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 |
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. |
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, |
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, |
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 |
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, |
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: |
Apollo be my judge! |
First Lord: |
This your request |
Is altogether just: therefore bring forth, |
And in Apollos name, his oracle. |
HERMIONE: |
The Emperor of Russia was my father: |
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! |
Officer: |
You here shall swear upon this sword of justice, |
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 |
Nor read the secrets in't. |
CLEOMENES: |
All this we swear. |
LEONTES: |
Break up the seals and read. |
Officer: |
Lords: |
Now blessed be the great Apollo! |
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