SCENE III. The same.

A Room in the Palace.

Enter LEONTES, ANTIGONUS, Lords, and other Attendants.

Leon. Nor night, nor day, no rest: It is but weakness To bear the matter thus; mere weakness, if The cause were not in being;-part o' the cause, She, the adultress;-for the harlot king Is quite beyond mine arm, out of the blank And level1 of my brain, plot-proof: but she I can hook to me: Say, that she were gone, Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest Might come to me again.

1 Attend.

-Who's there?

My lord! [Advancing.

Leon. How does the boy?

Conceiving the dishonour of his mother,

He straight declin'd, droop'd, took it deeply;
Fasten'd and fix'd the shame on't in himself;
Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,
And downright languish'd.—Leave me solely2 :—go,
See how he fares. [Exit Attend.]-Fye, fye! no
thought of him;-

The very thought of my revenges that way
Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty;
And in his parties, his alliance,—Let him be,
Until a time may serve: for present vengeance,

1 Blank and level mean mark and aim, or direction. They are terms of gunnery. See note 8, p. 50, of this play. Thus also

in Hamlet, Act iv. Sc. 4:

'As level as the cannon to his blank.'

2 i. e. leave me alone.

SC. III.

Take it on her.

WINTER'S TALE.

Camillo and Polixenes

39

Laugh at me; make their pastime at my sorrow:
They should not laugh, if I could reach them; nor
Shall she, within my power.

1 Lord.

Enter PAULINA, with a Child.

You must not enter.

Paul. Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me: Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas, Than the queen's life? a gracious innocent soul; More free, than he is jealous.

Ant.

That's enough.

1 Atten. Madam, he hath not slept to-night; com

manded

None should come at him.

I

Paul.

Not so hot, good sir;

come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you,-
That creep like shadows by him, and do sigh
At each his needless heavings, such as you
Nourish the cause of his awaking: I

Do come with words as med'cinal as true;
Honest, as either; to purge him of that humour,

That

presses him from sleep.

Leon.

What noise there, ho?

Paul. No noise, my lord; but needful conference About some gossips for your highness.

Leon.

How?

Away with that audacious lady: Antigonus,
I charg'd thee, that she should not come about me;
I knew she would.

On

Ant.

2

your displeasure's peril, and on mine,

She should not visit

Leon.

I told her so, my lord,

What, can'st not rule her?

you.

Paul. From all dishonesty, he can: in this,

(Unless he take the course that

you have done,

Commit me, for committing honour) trust it,
He shall not rule me.

Lo you now, you hear!

Ant.
When she will take the rein, I let her run;
But she'll not stumble.

Paul.
Good my liege, I come,—
And, I beseech you, hear me, who profess 3
Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
Your most obedient counsellor; yet that dare
Less appear so, in comforting your evils*,
Than such as most seem yours:— -I say, I come
From your good queen.

Leon.

Good queen!

Paul. Good queen, my lord, good queen: I say, good queen;

And would by combat make her good, so were I A man, the worst about you.

Leon.

Force her hence.

Paul. Let him, that makes but trifles of his eyes, First hand me: on my own accord, I'll off; But, first, I'll do my errand.-The good queen, For she is good, hath brought you forth a daughter; Here 'tis; commends it to your blessing.

Leon.

[Laying down the Child.

Out!

A mankind witch? Hence with her, out o' door: A most intelligencing bawd!

Paul.

3 The old copy has professes.

Not so:

4 In comforting your evils.' To comfort, in old language, is to aid, to encourage. Evils here mean wicked courses.

5 i. e. the weakest, or least warlike.

6A mankind witch.' In Junius's Nomenclator, by Abraham Fleming, 1585, Virago is interpreted A manly woman, or a mankind woman.' Johnson asserts that the phrase is still used in the midland counties for a woman violent, ferocious, and mischievous.

I am as ignorant in that, as you

In so entitling me: and no less honest

Than are mad; which is enough, I'll warrant, you As this world goes, to pass for honest.

Leon.

Traitors!

Will you not push her out? Give her the bastard :— Thou dotard [To ANTIGONUS], thou art womantir'd, unroosted

By thy dame Partlet here:-take up the bastard; Take't up, I say; give't to thy crone3.

Paul.

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou

For ever

Takest up the princess, by that forced9 baseness
Which he has put upon't!

Leon.

He dreads his wife.

Paul. So, I would, you did; then, 'twere past

all doubt,

You'd call

Leon.

your children yours.

A nest of traitors!

Ant. I am none, by this good light. Paul. Nor I; nor any, But one, that's here; and that's himself: for he The sacred honour of himself, his queen's,

His hopeful son's, his babe's, betrays to slander, Whose sting is sharper than the sword's 10; and will

not

7 i. e. hen-pecked. To tire in Falconry is to tear with the beak. Partlet is the name of the hen in the old story of Reynard the Fox.

A crone was originally a toothless old ewe; and thence became a term of contempt for an old woman.

9 Forced is false; uttered with violence to truth. Baseness for bastardy; we still say base born.

10 Whose sting is sharper than the sword's.'

beline :

'Slander,

So in Cym

Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile.'

(For, as the case now stands, it is a curse He cannot be compell'd to't), once remove The root of his opinion, which is rotten,

As ever oak, or stone, was sound.

A callat 11,

Leon.
Of boundless tongue; who late hath beat her husband,
And now baits me!-This brat is none of mine;
It is the issue of Polixenes:

Hence with it; and, together with the dam,
Commit them to the fire.

Paul.

It is yours;

And, might we lay the 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 his frown, his forehead; nay, the valley,
The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek; his smiles;
The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger:-
And, thou, good goddess nature, which hast made it
So like to him that got it, if thou hast

The ordering of the mind too, 'mongst all colours
No yellow 12 in't; lest she suspect, as he does,
Her children not her husband's!

Leon,

A gross hag!And, lozel 13, thou art worthy to be hang'd,

That wilt not stay her tongue.

Ant.

Hang all the husbands

That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself

Hardly one subject.

Leon. Once more, take her hence. Paul. A most unworthy and unnatural lord Can do no more.

11 A callat is a trull. 12 No yellow,' the colour of jealousy, 13 Lozel, a worthless fellow; one lost to all goodness. From the Saxon Losian, to perish, to be lost. Lorel, losel, losliche, are all of the same family.