Leon. There is no truth at all i' the oracle : The sessions shall proceed: this is mere false hood. Enter Servant. Serv. My lord the king, the king! Leon. What is the business? Serv. O sir, I shall be hated to report it! The prince your son, with mere conceit and Leon. Apollo 's angry; and the heavens themselves Do strike at my injustice. faints.] How now there! [Hermione Paul. This news is mortal to the queen : Some remedies for life. [exeunt Paulina and Ladies, with Hermione. Apollo, pardon My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle! New woo my queen; recall the good Camillo, My friend Polixenes: which had been done, Reward did threaten and encourage him, Not doing it and being done: he, most humane And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest Unclasp'd my practice, quit his fortunes here, Which you knew great, and to the hazard Paul. Re-enter PAULINA. Woe the while! O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it, Break too! First Lord. What fit is this, good lady? Paul. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? What wheels? racks? fires? what flaying? boiling? In leads or oils? what old or newer torture Must I receive, whose every word deserves To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny Together working with thy jealousies, Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle For girls of nine, O, think what they have done And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 't was nothing; That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant And damnable ingrateful: nor was 't much, |