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,
Commit them to the fire.

Pau. It is yours;

And, might we lay th' old proverb to your charge,
So like you, 'tis the worse. Behold, my lords,
Although the print be little, the whole matter

And copy

of the father; eye, nose, lip,

The trick of's frown, his forehead, nay, the valleys,
The dimples of his chin, and cheek, his smiles,
The very mold and frame of hand, nail, finger.
And thou, good goddess nature, which haft made it
So like to him that got it, if thou hast

The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours
No yellow in't! left fhe fufpect, as he does,
Her children not her husband's.

Leo. A grofs hag!

And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd,
That wilt not ftay her tongue.

Ant. Hang all the hufbands

That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself
Hardly one fubject.

Leo. Once more, take her hence.

Pau. A most unworthy and unnatural lord

Can do no more.

Leo. I'll ha' thee burn'd.

Pau. I care not;

It is an heretick that makes the fire,

Not she which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant,
But this most cruel ufage of your queen.

(Not able to produce more accufation

Than your own weak-hing'd fancy) something savours
Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you,

Yea,

Yea, fcandalous to all the world.

Leo. On your allegiance,

Out of the chamber with her. Where I a tyrant,
Where were her life? fhe durft not call me fo,
If she did know me one. Away with her.

Pau. I pray you, do not push me; I'll be gone.
Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis yours: Jove fend her
A better guiding spirit! What need these hands?
You that are thus fo tender o'er his follies,

Will never do him good, not one of you.
So, fo: farewel; we are gone.

SCENE VI.

Leo. Thou, traitor, haft set on thy wife to this.
My child? away with't! Even thou that haft
A heart fo tender o'er it, take it hence,

And see it instantly confum'd with fire;

Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight:
Within this hour bring me word 'tis done,

And by good teftimony, or I'll seize

Thy life, with all that's thine: if thou refuse,
And wilt encounter with my wrath, fay fo;
The bastard brains with these my proper hands
Shall I dash out: go, take it to the fire,
For thou fett'd'ft on thy wife.

Ant. I did not, fir:

The lords, my noble fellows, if they please,

Can clear me in't.

Lord. We can, my royal liege,

He is not guilty of her coming hither.

Leo. You're liars all.

Lord. 'Befeech your highness, give us better credit. We've alway truly ferv'd and befeech you

you,

So to esteem of us: and on our knees

We beg (as recompence of our dear service

[Exit.

Paft,

Paft, and to come) that you do change this purpose,
Which being so horrible, fo bloody, must

Lead on to fome foul iffue. We all kneel

Leo. I am a feather 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.

It fhall not neither.

But, be it; let it live:

You, fir, come you hither;

You that have been fo tenderly officious

With lady Margery, your midwife there,

To fave this baftard's life; (for 'tis a bastard,

So fure as this beard's gray) what will you adventure

To fave this brat's life?

Ant. Any thing, my lord,

That my ability may undergo

And nobleness impofe: at least, thus much;

I'll pawn the little blood which I have left,

To fave the innocent; what's poffible.

Leo. It fhall be poffible: fwear by this sword,

Thou wilt perform my bidding.

Of

Ant. I will, my lord.

Leo. Mark, and perform it; feeft thou? for the fail any point in't shall not only be

Death to thyfelf, but to thy lewd-tongu'd wife,

Whom, for this time, we pardon. We enjoin thee,
As thou art liegeman to us, that thou carry
This female baftard hence; and that thou bear it
To fome remote and defert place, quite out
Of our dominions; and that there thou leave it,
Without more mercy, to its own protection,
And favour of the climate. As by ftrange fortune
It came to us, I do in juftice charge thee,
On thy foul's peril, and thy body's torture,
That thou commend it to some stranger place,
Where chance may nurse or end it: take it up.

[to Ant.

Ant.

Ant. I fwear to do this; though a prefent death,
Had been more merciful. Come on, poor babe;
Some powerful spirit inftruct the kites, and ravens,
To be thy nurses! Wolves and bears, they fay,
(Cafting their favagenefs afide) have done
Like offices of pity. Sir, be profperous

In more than this deed does require! and blessing,
Against this cruelty, fight on thy fide,
Poor thing, condemn'd to loss!

Leo. No; I'll not rear

Another's iffue.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mess. Please your highness, posts,

From thofe you fent to th' oracle, are come

An hour fince. Cleomines and Dion,

[Exit with the child.

Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed,
Hafting to th' court.

Lord. So pleafe you, fir, their speed

Hath been beyond account.

Leo. Twenty three days

They have been abfent: this good speed foretels
The great Apollo fuddenly will have

The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords,
Summon a feffion, that we may arraign
Our most disloyal lady; for, as she hath
Been publickly accus'd, fo fhall fhe have
A just and open trial. While fhe lives,
My heart will be a burden to me. Leave me,
And think upon my bidding.

[Exeunt feverally.

ACT

**

T

HE climate's delicate, the air most sweet, Fertile the foil, the temple much furpaffing The common praise it bears.

Dion, I fhall report,

For most they caught me, the celestial habits,
Methinks, I fo fhould term them, and the reverence

Of the grave wearers. O, the facrifice!

How ceremonious, folemn, and unearthly,

Dion. The violent carriage of it

Will clear or end the bufinefs, when the oracle
Thus by Apollo's great divine feal'd up,

Shall the contents difcover: fomething rare

VOL. II.

Y y y

Even