Act 1 — Scene II. A room of state in the same.

Enter Leontes, Hermione, Mamillius, Polixenes, Camillo, and Attendants. Pol. Nine changes of the watery star hath been The shepherd's note since we have left our throne Without a burthen: time as long again Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks; 5 And yet we should, for perpetuity, Go hence in debt: and therefore, like a cipher, Yet standing in rich place, I multiply With one 'We thank you,' many thousands moe That go before it. Leon. Stay your thanks a while; And pay them when you part. 10 Pol. Sir, that's to-morrow. I am question'd by my fears, of what may chance Or breed upon our absence; that may blow No sneaping winds at home, to make us say 'This is put forth too truly:' besides, I have stay'd To tire your royalty. 15 Leon. We are tougher, brother, Than you can put us to't. Pol. No longer stay. Leon. One seven-night longer. Pol. Very sooth, to-morrow. Leon. We'll part the time between's, then: and in that I'll no gainsaying. Pol. Press me not, beseech you, so. 20 There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' the world, So soon as yours could win me: so it should now, Were there necessity in your request, although 'Twere needful I denied it. My affairs Do even drag me homeward: which to hinder 25 Were in your love a whip to me; my stay To you a charge and trouble: to save both, Farewell, our brother. Leon. Tongue-tied our queen? speak you. Her. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir, 30 Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure All in Bohemia's well; this satisfaction The by-gone day proclaim'd: say this to him, He's beat from his best ward. Leon. Well said, Hermione. Her. To tell, he longs to see his son, were strong: 35 But let him say so then, and let him go; But let him swear so, and he shall not stay, We'll thwack him hence with distaffs. Yet of your royal presence I'll adventure The borrow of a week. When at Bohemia 40 You take my lord, I'll give him my commission To let him there a month behind the gest Prefix'd for's parting: yet, good deed, Leontes, I love thee not a jar o' the clock behind What lady she her lord. You 'll stay? Pol. No, madam. Her. Nay, but you will? 45 Pol. I may not, verily. Her. Verily! You put me off with limber vows; but I, Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with oaths, Should yet say 'Sir, no going.' Verily, 50 You shall not go: a lady's 'Verily''s As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet? Force me to keep you as a prisoner, Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you? 55 My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread 'Verily,' One of them you shall be. Pol. Your guest, then, madam: To be your prisoner should import offending; Which is for me less easy to commit Than you to punish. Her. Not your gaoler, then, 60 But your kind hostess. Come, I'll question you Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys: You were pretty lordings then? Pol. We were, fair queen, Two lads that thought there was no more behind But such a day to-morrow as to-day, And to be boy eternal. 65 Her. Was not my lord The verier wag o' the two? Pol. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' the sun, And bleat the one at the other: what we changed Was innocence for innocence; we knew not 70 The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd That any did. Had we pursued that life, And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven Boldly 'not guilty;' the imposition clear'd Hereditary ours. 75 Her. By this we gather You have tripp'd since. Pol. O my most sacred lady! Temptations have since then been born to's: for In those unfledged days was my wife a girl; Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes Of my young play-fellow. 80 Her. Grace to boot! Of this make no conclusion, lest you say Your queen and I are devils: yet go on; The offences we have made you do we'll answer, If you first sinn'd with us and that with us 85 You did continue fault and that you slipp'd not With any but with us. Leon. Is he won yet? Her. He'll stay, my lord. Leon. At my request he would not. Hermione, my dearest, thou never spokest To better purpose. Her. Never? Leon. Never, but once. 90 Her. What! have I twice said well? when was't before? I prithee tell me; cram's with praise, and make's As fat as tame things: one good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages: you may ride's 95 With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere With spur we heat an acre. But to the goal: My last good deed was to entreat his stay: What was my first? it has an elder sister, Or I mistake you: O, would her name were Grace! 100 But once before I spoke to the purpose: when? Nay, let me have't; I long. Leon. Why, that was when Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death, Ere I could make thee open thy white hand, And clap thyself my love: then didst thou utter 'I am yours for ever.' 105 Her. 'Tis Grace indeed. Why, lo you now, I have spoke to the purpose twice: The one for ever earn'd a royal husband; The other for some while a friend. Leon. [Aside] Too hot, too hot! To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods. 110 I have tremor cordis on me: my heart dances; But not for joy; not joy. This entertainment May a free face put on, derive a liberty From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom, And well become the agent; 't may, I grant; 115 But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers, As now they are, and making practised smiles, As in a looking-glass, and then to sigh, as 'twere The mort o' the deer; O, that is entertainment My bosom likes not, nor my brows! Mamillius, Art thou my boy? Mam. Ay, my good lord. 120 Leon. I' fecks! Why, that's my bawcock. What, hast smutch'd thy nose? They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, captain, We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, captain: And yet the steer, the heifer and the calf 125 Are all call'd neat.—Still virginalling Upon his palm!—How now, you wanton calf! Art thou my calf? Mam. Yes, if you will, my lord. Leon. Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I have. To be full like me: yet they say we are 130 Almost as like as eggs; women say so, That will say any thing: but were they false As o'er-dyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes No bourn 'twixt his and mine, yet were it true 135 To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page, Look on me with your welkin eye: sweet villain! Most dear'st! my collop! Can thy dam?—may't be?— Affection! thy intention stabs the centre: Thou dost make possible things not so held, 140 Communicatest with dreams;—how can this be?— With what's unreal them coactive art, And fellow'st nothing: then 'tis very credent Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou dost, And that beyond commission, and I find it, 145 And that to the infection of my brains And hardening of my brows. Pol. What means Sicilia? Her. He something seems unsettled. Pol. How, my lord! What cheer? how is't with you, best brother? Her. You look As if you held a brow of much distraction: Are you moved, my lord? 150 Leon. No, in good earnest. How sometimes nature will betray its folly, Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil 155 Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd, In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled, Lest it should bite its master, and so prove, As ornaments oft do, too dangerous: How like, methought, I then was to this kernel, 160 This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend, Will you take eggs for money? Mam. No, my lord, I'll fight. Leon. You will! why, happy man be's dole! My brother, Are you so fond of your young prince, as we Do seem to be of ours? 165 Pol. If at home, sir, He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter: Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy; My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all: He makes a July's day short as December; 170 And with his varying childness cures in me Thoughts that would thick my blood. Leon. So stands this squire Officed with me: we two will walk, my lord, And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione, How thou lovest us, show in our brother's welcome; 175 Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap: Next to thyself and my young rover, he's Apparent to my heart. Her. If you would seek us, We are yours i' the garden: shall's attend you there? Leon. To your own bents dispose you: you'll be found, 180 Be you beneath the sky. [Aside] I am angling now, Though you perceive me not how I give line. Go to, go to! How she holds up the neb, the bill to him! And arms her with the boldness of a wife To her allowing husband! [Exeunt Polixenes, Hermione, and Attendants. 185 Gone already! Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd one! Go, play, boy, play: thy mother plays, and I Play too; but so disgraced a part, whose issue Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour 190 Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play. There have been, Or I am much deceived, cuckolds ere now; And many a man there is, even at this present, Now while I speak this, holds his wife by the arm, That little thinks she has been sluiced in's absence 195 And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't Whiles other men have gates and those gates open'd, As mine, against their will. Should all despair That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind 200 Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is none; It is a bawdy planet, that will strike Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it, From east, west, north and south: be it concluded, No barricado for a belly; know't; 205 It will let in and out the enemy With bag and baggage: many thousand on's Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy! Mam. I am like you, they say. Leon. Why, that's some comfort. What, Camillo there? 210 Cam. Ay, my good lord. Leon. Go play, Mamillius; thou'rt an honest man. [Exit Mamillius. Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer. Cam. You had much ado to make his anchor hold: When you cast out, it still came home. Leon. Didst note it? 215 Cam. He would not stay at your petitions; made His business more material. Leon. Didst perceive it? [Aside] They're here with me already; whispering, rounding 'Sicilia is a so-forth:' 'tis far gone, When I shall gust it last. How came't, Camillo, That he did stay? 220 Cam. At the good queen's entreaty. Leon. At the queen's be't: 'good' should be pertinent; But, so it is, it is not. Was this taken By any understanding pate but thine? For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in 225 More than the common blocks: not noted, is't, But of the finer natures? by some severals Of head-piece extraordinary? lower messes Perchance are to this business purblind? say. Cam. Business, my lord! I think most understand Bohemia stays here longer. Leon. Ha! 230 Cam. Stays here longer. Leon. Ay, but why? Cam. To satisfy your highness, and the entreaties Of our most gracious mistress. Leon. Satisfy! The entreaties of your mistress! satisfy! 235 Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo, With all the nearest things to my heart, as well My chamber-councils; wherein, priest-like, thou Hast cleansed my bosom, I from thee departed Thy penitent reform'd: but we have been 240 Deceived in thy integrity, deceived In that which seems so. Cam. Be it forbid, my lord! Leon. To bide upon't, thou art not honest; or, If thou inclinest that way, thou art a coward, Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining 245 From course required; or else thou must be counted A servant grafted in my serious trust And therein negligent; or else a fool That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn, And takest it all for jest. Cam. My gracious lord, 250 I may be negligent, foolish and fearful; In every one of these no man is free, But that his negligence, his folly, fear, Among the infinite doings of the world, Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord, 255 If ever I were wilful-negligent, It was my folly; if industriously I play'd the fool, it was my negligence, Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful To do a thing, where I the issue doubted, 260 Whereof the execution did cry out Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear Which oft infects the wisest: these, my lord, Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty Is never free of. But, beseech your Grace, 265 Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass By its own visage: if I then deny it, 'Tis none of mine. Leon. Ha' not you seen, Camillo,— But that's past doubt, you have, or your eye-glass Is thicker than a cuckold's horn,—or heard,— 270 For to a vision so apparent rumour Cannot be mute,—or thought,—for cogitation Resides not in that man that does not think,— My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess, Or else be impudently negative, 275 To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought, then say My wife's a hobby-horse; deserves a name As rank as any flax-wench that puts to Before her troth-plight: say't and justify't. Cam. I would not be a stander-by to hear 280 My sovereign mistress clouded so, without My present vengeance taken: 'shrew my heart, You never spoke what did become you less Than this; which to reiterate were sin As deep as that, though true. Leon. Is whispering nothing? 285 Is leaning cheek to cheek? is meeting noses? Kissing with inside lip? stopping the career Of laughter with a sigh?—a note infallible Of breaking honesty;—horsing foot on foot? Skulking in corners? wishing clocks more swift? 290 Hours, minutes? noon, midnight? and all eyes Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only, That would unseen be wicked? is this nothing? Why, then the world and all that's in't is nothing; The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing; 295 My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings, If this be nothing. Cam. Good my lord, be cured Of this diseased opinion, and betimes; For 'tis most dangerous. Leon. Say it be, 'tis true. Cam. No, no, my lord. Leon. It is; you lie, you lie: 300 I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee, Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave, Or else a hovering temporizer, that Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil, Inclining to them both: were my wife's liver 305 Infected as her life, she would not live The running of one glass. Cam. Who does infect her? Leon. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging About his neck, Bohemia: who, if I Had servants true about me, that bare eyes 310 To see alike mine honour as their profits, Their own particular thrifts, they would do that Which should undo more doing: ay, and thou, His cup-bearer,—whom I from meaner form Have bench'd and rear'd to worship, who mayst see 315 Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven, How I am gall'd,—mightst bespice a cup, To give mine enemy a lasting wink; Which draught to me were cordial. Cam. Sir, my lord, I could do this, and that with no rash potion, 320 But with a lingering dram, that should not work Maliciously like poison: but I cannot Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress, So sovereignly being honourable. I have loved thee,— Leon. Make that thy question, and go rot! 325 Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled, To appoint myself in this vexation; sully The purity and whiteness of my sheets, Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps; 330 Give scandal to the blood o' the prince my son, Who I do think is mine and love as mine, Without ripe moving to't? Would I do this? Could man so blench? Cam. I must believe you, sir: I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't; 335 Provided that, when he's removed, your highness Will take again your queen as yours at first, Even for your son's sake; and thereby for sealing The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms Known and allied to yours. Leon. Thou dost advise me 340 Even so as I mine own course have set down: I'll give no blemish to her honour, none. Cam. My lord, Go then; and with a countenance as clear As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia 345 And with your queen. I am his cup-bearer: If from me he have wholesome beverage, Account me not your servant. Leon. This is all: Do't and thou hast the one half of my heart; Do't not, thou splitt'st thine own. Cam. I'll do't, my lord. 350 Leon. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised me. [Exit. Cam. O miserable lady! But, for me, What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner Of good Polixenes: and my ground to do't Is the obedience to a master, one 355 Who, in rebellion with himself, will have All that are his so too. To do this deed, Promotion follows. If I could find example Of thousands that had struck anointed kings And flourish'd after, I'ld not do't; but since 360 Nor brass nor stone nor parchment bears not one, Let villany itself forswear't. I must Forsake the court: to do't, or no, is certain To me a break-neck. Happy star reign now! Here comes Bohemia. Re-enter Polixenes. Pol. This is strange: methinks 365 My favour here begins to warp. Not speak? Good day, Camillo. Cam. Hail, most royal sir! Pol. What is the news i' the court? Cam. None rare, my lord. Pol. The king hath on him such a countenance As he had lost some province and a region 370 Loved as he loves himself: even now I met him With customary compliment; when he, Wafting his eyes to the contrary and falling A lip of much contempt, speeds from me and So leaves me, to consider what is breeding 375 That changes thus his manners. Cam. I dare not know, my lord. Pol. How! dare not! do not. Do you know, and dare not? Be intelligent to me: 'tis thereabouts; For, to yourself, what you do know, you must, 380 And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo, Your changed complexions are to me a mirror Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be A party in this alteration, finding Myself thus alter'd with't. Cam. There is a sickness 385 Which puts some of us 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 basilisk: I have look'd on thousands, who have sped the better 390 By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo,— As you are certainly a gentleman; thereto Clerk-like experienced, which no less adorns Our gentry than our parents' noble names, In whose success we are gentle,—I beseech you, 395 If you know aught which does behove my knowledge Thereof to be inform'd, imprison't not In ignorant concealment. Cam. I may not answer. Pol. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well! I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo, 400 I conjure thee, by all the parts of man Which honour does acknowledge, whereof the least Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare What incidency thou dost guess of harm Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near; 405 Which way to be prevented, if to be; If not, how best to bear it. Cam. Sir, I will tell you; Since I am charged in honour and by him That I think honourable: therefore mark my counsel, Which must be ev'n as swiftly follow'd as 410 I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me Cry lost, and so good night! Pol. On, good Camillo. Cam. I am appointed him to murder you. Pol. By whom, Camillo? Cam. By the king. Pol. For what? Cam. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears, 415 As he had seen't, or been an instrument To vice you to't, that you have touch'd his queen Forbiddenly. Pol. O, then my best blood turn To an infected jelly and my name Be yoked with his that did betray the Best! 420 Turn then my freshest reputation to A savour that may strike the dullest nostril Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd, Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection That e'er was heard or read! Cam. Swear his thought over 425 By each particular star in heaven and By all their influences, you may as well Forbid the sea for to obey the moon, As or by oath remove or counsel shake The fabric of his folly, whose foundation 430 Is piled upon 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 Avoid what's grown than question how 'tis born. If therefore you dare trust my honesty, 435 That lies enclosed in this trunk which you Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night! Your followers I will whisper to the business; And will by twos and threes at several posterns, Clear them o' the city. For myself, I'll put 440 My fortunes to your service, which are here By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain; For, by the honour of my parents, I Have utter'd truth: which if you seek to prove, I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer 445 Than one condemn'd by the king's own mouth, thereon His execution sworn. Pol. I do believe thee: I saw his heart in's face. Give me thy hand: Be pilot to me and thy places shall Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready and 450 My people did expect my hence departure Two days ago. This jealousy Is for a precious creature: as she's rare, Must it be great; and, as his person's mighty, Must it be violent; and as he does conceive 455 He is dishonour'd by a man which ever Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me: Good expedition be my friend, and comfort The gracious queen, part of his theme, but nothing 460 Of his ill-ta'en suspicion! Come, Camillo; I will respect thee as a father if Thou bear'st my life off hence: let us avoid. Cam. It is in mine authority to command The keys of all the posterns: please your highness 465 To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away. [Exeunt.