Than you are mad; which is enough, I'll warrant,
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 woman-tired,a unroosted

By thy dame Partlet here,-take up the bastard;

Take 't up, I say; give 't to thy crone.

Paul.

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou

For ever

Tak'st up the princess, by that forced baseness
Which he has put upon 't!

Leon.

He dreads his wife.

Paul. So I would you did; then 't were past all doubt You'd call your children yours.

Leon.

A nest of traitors!

Nor I; nor any,

Ant. I am none, by this good light.
Paul.

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; and will not
(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.

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.

And, might we lay the old proverb to your charge,

a Woman-tired. This is equivalent to our hen-pecked. To tire is to tear, as a bird of prey does his meat :

"And like an empty eagle,

Tire on the flesh of me and of my son."

(Henry VI., Part III.')

So like you, 't is 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 in 't; lest she suspect, as he does,
Her children not her husband's!

Leon.
And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang'd,

a

That wilt not stay her tongue.

Ant.

A gross hag!

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.

Leon.

Paul.

I'll have thee burn'd.

It is an heretic that makes the fire,

I care not:

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

(Not able to produce more accusation

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

Yea, scandalous to the world.

Leon.

Out of the chamber with her.

On your allegiance,

Were I a tyrant,

Where were her life? she durst not call me so,
If she did know me one. Away with her.

Paul. I pray you, do not push me; I'll be gone.
Look to your babe, my lord; 't is yours: Jove send her
A better guiding spirit!—What need these hands?—

a Lozel. Verstegan explains this as "one that hath lost, neglected, or cast off, his own good and welfare, and so is become lewd and careless of credit and honesty."

You, that are thus so tender o'er his follies,

Will never do him good, not one of

So, so:-Farewell; we are gone.

you.

Leon. Thou, traitor, hast set on thy wife to this.My child! away with 't!-even thou, that hast

A heart so tender o'er it, take it hence,

And see it instantly consum'd with fire;

Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight:
Within this hour bring me word 't is done,
(And by good testimony,) or I'll seize thy life,
With what thou else call'st thine: If thou refuse,
And wilt encounter with my wrath, say so;
The bastard brains with these my proper hands
Shall I dash out. Go, take it to the fire;

For thou sett'st on thy wife.

Ant.

I did not, sir:

These lords, my noble fellows, if they please,

Can clear me in 't.

1 Lord.

We can, my royal liege,

He is not guilty of her coming hither.

Leon. You are liars all.

[Exit.

1 Lord. 'Beseech your highness, give us better credit;

We have always truly serv'd you; and beseech

So to esteem of us: And on our knees we beg,

(As recompense of our dear services,

Past, and to come,) that you do change this purpose;

Which, being so horrible, so bloody, must

Lead on to some foul issue: We all kneel.

Leon. I am a feather for each wind that blows:

Shall I live on, to see this bastard kneel

And call me father?

Than curse it then.

Better burn it now,

It shall not neither.

But, be it; let it live:
You, sir, come you hither;

[to ANT.

You, that have been so tenderly officious

With lady Margery, your midwife, there,
To save this bastard's life: for 't is a bastard,
So sure as this beard's grey,

To save this brat's life?

VOL. IV.

what will you adventure

a Leontes here probably points to the beard of Antigonus.

E

That my ability may undergo,

And nobleness impose: at least, thus much,—
I'll pawn the little blood which I have left
To save the innocent: anything possible.

Leon. It shall be possible: Swear by this sword,
Thou wilt perform my bidding.

Ant.

I will, my lord.

Leon. Mark, and perform it; (seest thou?) for the fail Of any point in 't shall not only be

Death to thyself, but to thy lewd-tongued wife;
Whom, for this time, we pardon. We enjoin thee,
As thou art liegeman to us, that thou carry

This female bastard hence; and that thou bear it
To some remote and desert 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 strange fortune
It came to us, I do in justice charge thee,—
On thy soul's peril, and thy body's torture,—
That thou commend it strangely to some place
Where chance may nurse, or end it: Take it up.

Ant. I swear to do this, though a present death
Had been more merciful.-Come on, poor babe :
Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens
To be thy nurses! Wolves and bears, they say,
Casting their savageness aside, have done
Like offices of pity.-Sir, be prosperous

In more than this deed does require! and blessing,
Against this cruelty, fight on thy side,

Poor thing, condemn'd to loss! a

Leon.

Another's issue.

[Exit, with the Child.

No, I 'll not rear

a Loss. We have the word repeated in the third act:—

"Poor wretch,

That, for thy mother's fault, art thus expos'd

To loss, and what may follow!"

This passage shows that loss does not here mean destruction—a final calamity; for

something may follow. It probably means exposure.

1 Attend.

Please your highness, posts,

From those you sent to the oracle, are come

An hour since: Cleomenes and Dion,

Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed,
Hasting to the court.

1 Lord.

So please you, sir, their speed

Hath been beyond account.

Leon.

Twenty-three days

They have been absent: 't is good speed; foretells
The great Apollo suddenly will have

The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords;
Summon a session, that we may arraign
Our most disloyal lady: for, as she hath
Been publicly accus'd, so shall she have
A just and open trial. While she lives,
My heart will be a burthen to me.
And think upon my bidding.

Leave me;

[Exeunt.