Act Third.

Scene I.

A seaport in Sicilia.

Enter Cleomenes and Dion.

Cleo. The climate's delicate, the air most sweet,
Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing
The common praise it bears.

Dion.

Cleo.

Dion.

I shall report,

For most it caught me, the celestial habits,

Methinks I so should term them, and the reverence
Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice!

How ceremonious, solemn and unearthly
It was i' the offering!

But of all, the burst

And the ear-deafening voice o' the oracle,
Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense,
That I was nothing.

If the event o' the journey

Prove as successful to the queen,-O be't so !—
As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy,

The time is worth the use on 't.

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Cleo.

Dion.

Great Apollo

Turn all to the best! These proclamations,
So forcing faults upon Hermione,

I little like.

The violent carriage of it

Will clear or end the business: when the oracle,
Thus by Apollo's great divine seal'd up,
Shall the contents discover, semething rare

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Even then will rush to knowledge. Go: fresh horses!
And gracious be the issue.

Scene II.

A court of Justice.

Enter Leontes, Lords, and Officers.

[Exeunt.

Leon. This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce,
Even pushes 'gainst our heart: the party tried
The daughter of a king, our wife, and one
Of us too much beloved. Let us be clear'd
Of being tyrannous, since we so openly

Proceed in justice, which shall have due course,
Even to the guilt or the purgation.

Produce the prisoner.

Off. It is his highness' pleasure that the queen

Appear in person here in court.

Silence !

Enter Hermione guarded; Paulina and Ladies attending. Leon. Read the indictment.

Off. [reads] Hermione, queen to the worthy
Leontes, king of Sicilia, thou art here accused
and arraigned of high treason, in committing
adultery with Polixenes, king of Bohemia, and
conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of
our sovereign lord the king, thy royal husband:
the pretence whereof being by circumstances.
partly laid open, thou, Hermione, contrary to
the faith and allegiance of a true subject, didst 20
counsel and aid them, for their better safety, to
fly away by night.

Her. Since what I am to say must be but that
Which contradicts my accusation, and
The testimony on my part no other

But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me
To say 'not guilty:' mine integrity,

Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it,
Be so received. But thus, if powers divine
Behold our human actions, as they do,

I doubt not then but innocence shall make

False accusation blush, and tyranny

Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know,
Who least will seem to do so, my past life

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Leon.

Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
As I am now unhappy; which is more
Than history can pattern, though devised
And play'd to take spectators. For behold me
A fellow of the royal bed, which owe

A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter, 40
The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing

To prate and talk for life and honour 'fore

Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it As I weigh grief, which I would spare: for honour, "Tis a derivative from me to mine,

And only that I stand for. I appeal

To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes
Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
How merited to be so; since he came,

With what encounter so uncurrent I

Have strain'd, to appear thus: if one jot beyond
The bound of honour, or in act or will
That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts
Of all that hear me, and my near❜st of kin
Cry fie upon my grave!

I ne'er heard yet
That any of these bolder vices wanted
Less impudence to gainsay what they did
Than to perform it first.

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Her.

That's true enough;

Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.

Leon. You will not own it.

Her.

More than mistress of

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

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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.

Leon. You knew of his departure, as you know
you have underta'en to do in 's absence.

What

Her. Sir,

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80.