SCENE III. Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords, and other Attendants. Leo. Nor Night, nor Day, no reft; it is but Weakness To bear the Matter thus; mear Weakness, if The Cause were not in Being; part o'th' Cause, Is quite beyond mine Arm; out of the Blank Atten. My Lord. Leo. How do's the Boy? Atten. He took good reft to Night; 'tis hop'd His Sickness is discharg'd. Leo. To fee his Nobleness! Conceiving the Dishonour of his Mother, Enter Paulina with a Child. Lord. You must not enter. Pau. Nay rather, good my Lords, be fecond to me: Fear you his tyrannous Paffion more, alas, Than the Queen's Life? A gracious innocent Soul, More free than he is jealous. Ant. That's enough. Atten. Madam, he hath not flept to Night; commanded None fhould come near him. Pan. Pan. Not fo hot, good Sir, come to bring him Sleep. Tis fuch as you hat creep like Shadows by him, and do figh teach his needlefs heavings; fuch as you Nourish the Caufe of his awaking. I Do come with words, as medicinal, as true; Honeft, as either, to purge him of that Humour, That preffes him from Sleep. Leo. What noife there, ho? Pau. No noife, my Lord, but needful Conference, About fome Goffips for your Highnefs. Leo. How? Away with that audacious Lady. Antigonus, Ant. I told her fo, my Lord, On your Difpleasures peril and on mine, Leo. What? canft not rule her? Pan. From all Difhonefty he can; in this, Unless he take the courfe that you have done, Commit me, for committing Honour, truft it, He fhall not rule me. Ant. La-you now, you hear, When the will take the Rein, I let her run, Pau. Good my Liege, I come And I beseech you hear me, who profeffes Leo. Good Queen? Pau. Good Queen, my Lord, good Queen, I fay, good Queen; And would, by Combate, make her good, were I Leo. Force her hence. Pan. Let him that makes but Trifles of his Eyes Firft hand me: On mine own accord I'll off, VOL. II. G g But But first, I'll do my Errand. The good Queen, Leo. Out! [Laying down the Child A mankind Witch! Hence with her, out o'door: Pau. Not fo, I am as ignorant in that as you, In fo entitling me; and no lefs honeft Than you are mad; which is enough, I'll warrant, Leo. Traitors! Will you not push her out? Give her the Bastard. [To Att Pau. For ever Unvenerable be thy Hands, if thou Take'ft up the Princefs, by that forced Baseness Which he has put upon't. Leo. He dreads his Wife. Pau. So I would you did then 'twere paft all doubt You'ld call your Children yours. Leo. A Neft of Traitors! Ant. I am none, by this good Light. Pau. Nor I; nor any But one that's here; and that's himself. For he,. The facred Honour of himself, his Queen's, His hopeful Sons, his Babes betrays to Slander, Whofe Sting is fharper than the Swords; and will not Leo. A Callat Of boundless Tongue, who late hath beat her Husband, And now baits me. This Brat is none of mine. It is the Iffue of Polixenes. Hence with it, and together with the Dam, Ран Pan. It is yours; And, might we lay th' old Proverb to your Charge, The trick of's Frown, his Forehead, nay, the Valley, The ordering of the Mind too, 'mongst all Colours Leo. A grofs Hag! And Lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd, Ant. Hang all the Husbands That cannot do that Feat, you'll leave your felf Leo. Once more take her hence. Pau. A most unworthy and unnatural Lord Can do no more. Leo. I'll ha' thee burnt. Pau. I care not ; It is an Heretick that makes the Fire, Not the which burns in't. I'll not call you Tyrant; (Not able to produce more Accufation Than your own weak-hing'd Fancy) fometimes favours Yea, fcandalous to the World. Leo. On your Allegiance, Out of the Chamber with her. Were I a Tyrant, Pau. I pray you do not push me, I'll be gone. Look to your Babe, my Lord, 'tis yours; Jove fend her Will never do him good, not one of you. So, fo: Farewel, we are gone. Gg 2 [Exit. Le Leo. Thou, Traitor, haft fet on thy Wife to this. Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight: And by good Teftimony, or I'll feize thy Life, Ant. I did not, Sir: Thefe Lords, my noble Fellows, if they please, Lord. We can, my Royal Liege, He is not guilty of her coming hither, Lords. 'Befeech your Highnefs give us better Credit. Paft, and to come) that you do change this purpose, Lead on to fome foul Iffue. We all kneel Leo. I am a Father for each Wind that blows: Shall I live on, to fee this Baftard kneel, And call me Father? better burn it now, Than curfe it then. But be it; let it live: It shall not neither. You Sir, come you hither; [T• Ant You that have been fo tenderly officious With Lady Margery, your Midwife there, To fave this Baftard's Life; for 'tis a Baftard, So fure as this Beard's grey: What will you adventure, To fave this Brat's Life? Ant. Any thing, my Lord, That my Ability may undergo, And Noblenefs impofe: At leaft thus much; |