The Winter's Tale (Folio 1, 1623)
Peer Reviewed
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Scœna Secunda.
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Enter Leontes, Hermione, Mamillius, Polixenes, Camillo.
50Pol. Nine Changes of the Watry-Starre hath been
¶The Shepheards Note, since we haue left our Throne
¶Without a Burthen: Time as long againe
¶Would be fill'd vp (my Brother) with our Thanks,
¶And yet we should, for perpetuitie,
55Goe hence in debt: And therefore, like a Cypher
¶(Yet standing in rich place) I multiply
¶With one we thanke you, many thousands moe,
¶That goe before it.
¶Leo. Stay your Thanks a while,
60And pay them when you part.
¶Pol. Sir, that's to morrow:
¶I am question'd by my feares, of what may chance,
¶Or breed vpon our absence, that may blow
¶To tyre your Royaltie.
¶Leo. We are tougher (Brother)
¶Then you can put vs to't.
70Leo. One Seue' night longer.
¶Leo. Wee'le part the time betweene's then: and in that
¶Ile no gaine-saying.
75There is no Tongue that moues; none, none i'th' World
¶'Twere needfull I deny'd it. My Affaires
¶Doe euen drag me home-ward: which to hinder,
80Were (in your Loue) a Whip to me; my stay,
¶To you a Charge, and Trouble: to saue both,
¶Farewell (our Brother.)
¶Her. I had thought (Sir) to haue held my peace, vntill
85You had drawne Oathes from him, not to stay: you (Sir)
¶Charge him too coldly. Tell him, you are sure
¶The by-gone-day proclaym'd, say this to him,
¶He's beat from his best ward.
¶Wee'l thwack him hence with Distaffes.
95Yet of your Royall presence, Ile aduenture
¶The borrow of a Weeke. When at Bohemia
¶To let him there a Moneth, behind the Gest
¶Prefix'd for's parting: yet (good-deed) Leontes,
100I loue thee not a Iarre o'th' Clock, behind
¶Pol. No, Madame.
¶Her. Nay, but you will?
¶Pol. I may not verely.
105Her. Verely?
¶You put me off with limber Vowes: but I,
¶Should yet say, Sir, no going: Verely
¶You shall not goe; a Ladyes Verely 'is
110As potent as a Lords. Will you goe yet?
¶Force me to keepe you as a Prisoner,
115One of them you shall be.
¶Then you to punish.
120Her. Not your Gaoler then,
¶Of my Lords Tricks, and yours, when you were Boyes:
¶You were pretty Lordings then?
¶Pol. We were (faire Queene)
125Two Lads, that thought there was no more behind,
¶But such a day to morrow, as to day,
¶And to be Boy eternall.
¶Her. Was not my Lord
¶The veryer Wag o'th' two?
¶And bleat the one at th' other: what we chang'd,
¶Was Innocence, for Innocence: we knew not
¶The Doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd
¶That any did: Had we pursu'd that life,
135And our weake Spirits ne're been higher rear'd
¶Boldly, not guilty; the Imposition clear'd,
¶Hereditarie ours.
¶Her. By this we gather
140You haue tript since.
¶Temptations haue since then been borne to's: for
¶In those vnfledg'd dayes, was my Wife a Girle;
¶Your precious selfe had then not cross'd the eyes
145Of my young Play-fellow.
¶Her. Grace to boot:
¶Your Queene and I are Deuils: yet goe on,
¶Th' offences we haue made you doe, wee'le answere,
¶You did continue fault; and that you slipt not
¶With any, but with vs.
¶Leo. Is he woon yet?
¶To better purpose.
¶Her. Neuer?
¶Leo. Neuer, but once.
¶I prethee tell me: cram's with prayse, and make's
¶Slaughters a thousand, wayting vpon that.
¶Our prayses are our Wages. You may ride's
¶With Spur we heat an Acre. But to th' Goale:
¶Or I mistake you: O, would her Name were Grace.
¶Nay, let me haue't: I long.
¶Leo. Why, that was when
¶Ere I could make thee open thy white Hand:
¶I am yours for euer.
¶Her. 'Tis Grace indeed.
¶The one, for euer earn'd a Royall Husband;
180Th' other, for some while a Friend.
¶Leo. Too hot, too hot:
¶To mingle friendship farre, is mingling bloods.
¶I haue Tremor Cordis on me: my heart daunces,
¶But not for ioy; not ioy. This Entertainment
185May a free face put on: deriue a Libertie
¶And well become the Agent: 't may; I graunt:
¶But to be padling Palmes, and pinching Fingers,
¶As now they are, and making practis'd Smiles
¶The Mort o'th' Deere: oh, that is entertainment
¶My Bosome likes not, nor my Browes. Mamillius,
¶Art thou my Boy?
¶Mam. I, my good Lord.
195Leo. I'fecks:
¶They say it is a Coppy out of mine. Come Captaine,
¶We must be neat; not neat, but cleanly, Captaine:
¶And yet the Steere, the Heycfer, and the Calfe,
200Are all call'd Neat. Still Virginalling
¶Vpon his Palme? How now (you wanton Calfe)
¶Art thou my Calfe?
¶Mam. Yes, if you will (my Lord.)
205To be full, like me: yet they say we are
¶As o're-dy'd Blacks, as Wind, as Waters; false
¶As Dice are to be wish'd, by one that fixes
210No borne 'twixt his and mine; yet were it true,
¶To say this Boy were like me. Come (Sir Page)
¶Looke on me with your Welkin eye: sweet Villaine,
¶Affection? thy Intention stabs the Center.
¶Communicat'st with Dreames (how can this be?)
¶With what's vnreall: thou coactiue art,
¶And fellow'st nothing. Then 'tis very credent,
¶(And that to the infection of my Braines,
¶And hardning of my Browes.)
¶Pol. What meanes Sicilia?
225Pol. How? my Lord?
¶Are you mou'd (my Lord?)
230How sometimes Nature will betray it's folly?
¶To harder bosomes? Looking on the Lynes
¶Of my Boyes face, me thoughts I did requoyle
235In my greene Veluet Coat; my Dagger muzzel'd,
¶(As Ornaments oft do's) too dangerous:
¶How like (me thought) I then was to this Kernell,
240Will you take Egges for Money?
¶Mam. No (my Lord) Ile fight.
¶Leo. You will: why happy man be's dole. My Brother
¶Are you so fond of your young Prince, as we
¶Doe seeme to be of ours?
245Pol. If at home (Sir)
¶He's all my Exercise, my Mirth, my Matter;
¶Now my sworne Friend, and then mine Enemy;
¶My Parasite, my Souldier: States-man; all:
¶He makes a Iulyes day, short as December,
¶Thoughts, that would thick my blood.
¶Offic'd with me: We two will walke (my Lord)
¶And leaue you to your grauer steps. Hermione,
¶Let what is deare in Sicily, be cheape:
¶Next to thy selfe, and my young Rouer, he's
¶Apparant to my heart.
260We are yours i'th' Garden: shall's attend you there?
¶Be you beneath the Sky: I am angling now,
¶(Though you perceiue me not how I giue Lyne)
¶Goe too, goe too.
265How she holds vp the Neb? the Byll to him?
¶To her allowing Husband. Gone already,
¶Ynch-thick, knee-deepe; ore head and eares a fork'd one.
¶Goe play (Boy) play: thy Mother playes, and I
¶Will be my Knell. Goe play (Boy) play, there haue been
¶(Or I am much deceiu'd) Cuckolds ere now,
¶And many a man there is (euen at this present,
275Now, while I speake this) holds his Wife by th' Arme,
¶And his Pond fish'd by his next Neighbor (by
¶Sir Smile, his Neighbor:) nay, there's comfort in't,
¶Whiles other men haue Gates, and those Gates open'd
¶That haue reuolted Wiues, the tenth of Mankind
¶It is a bawdy Planet, that will strike
¶Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powrefull: thinke it:
¶No Barricado for a Belly. Know't,
¶It will let in and out the Enemy,
¶With bag and baggage: many thousand on's
¶What? Camillo there?
¶Cam. I, my good Lord.
295Camillo, this great Sir will yet stay longer.
¶Cam. You had much adoe to make his Anchor hold,
¶They're here with me already; whisp'ring, rounding:
¶Sicilia is a so-forth: 'tis farre gone,
305That he did stay?
¶Cam. At the good Queenes entreatie.
¶But so it is, it is not. Was this taken
¶By any vnderstanding Pate but thine?
310For thy Conceit is soaking, will draw in
¶More then the common Blocks. Not noted, is't,
¶But of the finer Natures? by some Seueralls
¶Bohemia stayes here longer.
¶Leo. Ha?
¶Cam. Stayes here longer.
¶Leo. I, but why?
325With all the neerest things to my heart, as well
¶My Chamber-Councels, wherein (Priest-like) thou
¶Thy Penitent reform'd: but we haue been
¶Deceiu'd in thy Integritie, deceiu'd
¶Cam. Be it forbid (my Lord.)
¶If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a Coward,
¶And therein negligent: or else a Foole,
340Cam. My gracious Lord,
¶I may be negligent, foolish, and fearefull,
¶In euery one of these, no man is free,
¶But that his negligence, his folly, feare,
¶Among the infinite doings of the World,
345Sometime puts forth in your affaires (my Lord.)
¶If euer I were wilfull-negligent,
¶I play'd the Foole, it was my negligence,
¶Not weighing well the end: if euer fearefull
¶Whereof the execution did cry out
¶Against the non-performance, 'twas a feare
355Is neuer free of. But beseech your Grace
¶Be plainer with me, let me know my Trespas
¶By it's owne visage; if I then deny it,
¶'Tis none of mine.
¶Is thicker then a Cuckolds Horne) or heard?
¶Cannot be mute) or thought? (for Cogitation
¶Resides not in that man, that do's not thinke)
¶Or else be impudently negatiue,
¶To haue nor Eyes, nor Eares, nor Thought, then say
¶As ranke as any Flax-Wench, that puts to
375Then this; which to reiterate, were sin
¶As deepe as that, though true.
¶Is leaning Cheeke to Cheeke? is meating Noses?
380Of Laughter, with a sigh? (a Note infallible
¶Houres, Minutes? Noone, Mid-night? and all Eyes
¶Blind with the Pin and Web, but theirs; theirs onely,
385That would vnseene be wicked? Is this nothing?
¶Why then the World, and all that's in't, is nothing,
¶The couering Skie is nothing, Bohemia nothing,
¶My Wife is nothing, nor Nothing haue these Nothings,
¶If this be nothing.
390Cam. Good my Lord, be cur'd
¶Of this diseas'd Opinion, and betimes,
¶For 'tis most dangerous.
¶Leo. Say it be, 'tis true.
¶Cam. No, no, my Lord.
395Leo. It is: you lye, you lye:
¶Or else a houering Temporizer, that
400Inclining to them both: were my Wiues Liuer
¶Infected (as her life) she would not liue
¶Cam. Who do's infect her?
¶Leo. Why he that weares her like her Medull, hanging
405About his neck (Bohemia) who, if I
¶Had Seruants true about me, that bare eyes
¶To see alike mine Honor, as their Profits,
¶(Their owne particular Thrifts) they would doe that
¶Which should vndoe more doing: I, and thou
410His Cup-bearer, whom I from meaner forme
¶To giue mine Enemy a lasting Winke:
415Which Draught to me, were cordiall.
¶Cam. Sir (my Lord)
¶I could doe this, and that with no rash Potion,
¶But with a lingring Dram, that should not worke
¶(So soueraignely being Honorable.)
¶I haue lou'd thee,
425To appoint my selfe in this vexation?
¶Is Goades, Thornes, Nettles, Tayles of Waspes)
¶Giue scandall to the blood o'th' Prince, my Sonne,
430(Who I doe thinke is mine, and loue as mine)
¶Without ripe mouing to't? Would I doe this?
¶Could man so blench?
¶I doe, and will fetch off Bohemia for't:
¶Will take againe your Queene, as yours at first,
¶The Iniurie of Tongues, in Courts and Kingdomes
¶Knowne, and ally'd to yours.
¶Ile giue no blemish to her Honor, none.
¶Cam. My Lord,
¶Goe then; and with a countenance as cleare
¶And with your Queene: I am his Cup-bearer,
¶If from me he haue wholesome Beueridge,
¶Account me not your Seruant.
¶Leo. This is all:
450Do't, and thou hast the one halfe of my heart;
¶Cam. Ile do't, my Lord.
Exit
¶Of good Polixenes, and my ground to do't,
¶Is the obedience to a Master; one,
¶Who in Rebellion with himselfe, will haue
¶All that are his, so too. To doe this deed,
460Promotion followes: If I could find example
465Forsake the Court: to do't, or no, is certaine
¶To me a breake-neck. Happy Starre raigne now,
¶Here comes Bohemia.
Enter Polixenes.
¶My fauor here begins to warpe. Not speake?
470Good day Camillo.
¶Pol. What is the Newes i'th' Court?
¶Cam. None rare (my Lord.)
¶Lou'd, as he loues himselfe: euen now I met him
¶With customarie complement, when hee
¶Wafting his eyes to th' contrary, and falling
¶A Lippe of much contempt, speedes from me, and
480So leaues me, to consider what is breeding,
¶That changes thus his Manners.
¶Cam. I dare not know (my Lord.)
¶Pol. How, dare not? doe not? doe you know, and dare not?
¶Be intelligent to me, 'tis thereabouts:
¶And cannot say, you dare not. Good Camillo,
¶Your chang'd complexions are to me a Mirror,
¶A partie in this alteration, finding
490My selfe thus alter'd with't.
¶Of you, that yet are well.
495Pol. How caught of me?
¶By my regard, but kill'd none so: Camillo,
¶As you are certainely a Gentleman, thereto
¶Our Gentry, then our Parents Noble Names,
¶If you know ought which do's behoue my knowledge,
¶Thereof to be inform'd, imprison't not
505In ignorant concealement.
¶I coniure thee, by all the parts of man,
510Which Honor do's acknowledge, whereof the least
¶Is not this Suit of mine, that thou declare
¶Is creeping toward me; how farre off, how neere,
¶Which way to be preuented, if to be:
515If not, how best to beare it.
¶Cam. Sir, I will tell you,
¶Since I am charg'd in Honor, and by him
¶That I thinke Honorable: therefore marke my counsaile,
520I meane to vtter it; or both your selfe, and me,
¶Pol. On, good Camillo.
¶Cam. I am appointed him to murther you.
¶Pol. By whom, Camillo?
525Cam. By the King.
¶Pol. For what?
¶To vice you to't, that you haue toucht his Queene
530Forbiddenly.
¶To an infected Gelly, and my Name
¶Be yoak'd with his, that did betray the Best:
¶Where I arriue, and my approch be shun'd,
¶That ere was heard, or read.
¶Cam. Sweare his thought ouer
540By each particular Starre in Heauen, and
¶By all their Influences; you may as well
¶Forbid the Sea for to obey the Moone,
¶The Fabrick of his Folly, whose foundation
545Is pyl'd vpon his Faith, and will continue
¶The standing of his Body.
¶Auoid what's growne, then question how 'tis borne.
¶That lyes enclosed in this Trunke, which you
¶Shall beare along impawnd, away to Night,
555Cleare them o'th' Citie: For my selfe, Ile put
¶My fortunes to your seruice (which are here
¶For by the honor of my Parents, I
¶Haue vttred Truth: which if you seeke to proue,
¶Then one condemnd by the Kings owne mouth:
¶Thereon his Execution sworne.
¶Pol. I doe beleeue thee:
¶I saw his heart in's face. Giue me thy hand,
565Be Pilot to me, and thy places shall
¶Still neighbour mine. My Ships are ready, and
¶My people did expect my hence departure
¶Two dayes agoe. This Iealousie
¶Is for a precious Creature: as shee's rare,
¶Must it be violent: and, as he do's conceiue,
¶He is dishonor'd by a man, which euer
¶Profess'd to him: why his Reuenges must
¶In that be made more bitter. Feare ore-shades me:
575Good Expedition be my friend, and comfort
¶The gracious Queene, part of his Theame; but nothing
¶I will respect thee as a Father, if
¶Thou bear'st my life off, hence: Let vs auoid.
580Cam. It is in mine authoritie to command
¶To take the vrgent houre. Come Sir, away.
Exeunt.
