[Exit, with the Child.

Against this cruelty, fight on thy fide!
Poor thing, condemn'd to lofs.
Leo. No; I'll not rear

Another's iffue.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. Please your Highness, pofts,

From those you fent to th' oracle, are come
An hour fince. Cleomines and Dion,

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

Lord. So please you, Sir, 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 difloyal Lady; for as she hath
Been publickly accus'd, fo fhall fhe have
A juft and open tryal... While fhe lives,,
My heart will be a burthen to me. Leave me,
And think upon my bidding.

[Exeunt feverally..

ACT III.

SCENE, A Part of Sicily, near the Sea-fide.

T

Enter Cleomines and Dion.

CLEO MINE J.

HE climate's delicate, the air most sweet,

Fertile the ifle, the temple much furpaffing.
The common praise it bears.

Dion. I fhall report,

For most it caught me, the celestial habits,

M. 5

(Mee

Methinks, I fo fhould term them,) and the reverence
Of the grave wearers. O, the facrifice-

How ceremonious, folemn, and unearthly
It was i' th' offering!

Cleo. But of all, the burst

And the ear-deafning voice o' th' oracle,
Kin to Jove's thunder, fo furpriz'd my fenfe,
That I was nothing.

Dion. If th' event o' th' journey

Prove as fuccessful to the Queen, (O be't fo!)
As it hath been to us, rare, pleasant, speedy,
The time is worth the ufe on't.

Cleo. Great Apollo,

Turn all to th' beft! these proclamations,
So forcing faults upon Hermione,
I little like.

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

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

[Exeunt. SCENE represents a court of Justice. Leontes, Lords and Officers, appear properly feated.

Leo. THI

HIS feffion, (to our great grief, we pro-
nounce,)

Ev'n pushes 'gainft our heart. The party try'd,
The daughter of a King, our wife, and one
Of us too much belov'd; let us be clear'd
Of being tyrannous, fince we fo openly
Proceed in justice, which fhall have due course,
Even to the guilt, or the purgation.
Produce the prifoner.

Offi. It is his Highnefs' pleafure, that the Queen
Appear in perfon here in court. Silence!

Hermione

Hermione is brought in, guarded; Paulina, and Ladies, attending.

Leo. Read the indictment.

Offi. Hermione, Queen to the worthy Leontes, King of Sicilia, thou art here accufed and arraigned of high treafon, in committing adultery with Polixenes, King of Bohemia, and confpiring with Camillo to take away the life of our fovereign lord the King, thy royal husband; the pretence whereof being by circumftances partly laid open, thou, Hermione, contrary to the faith and allegiance of a true fubject, didft counsel and aid them, for their better fafety, to fly away by night.

Her. Since what I am to fay, must be but That Which contradicts my accufation; and

The teftimony on my part, no other

But what comes from myself; it shall scarce boot me
To fay, Not guilty: mine integrity,

Being counted falfhood, fhall, as I exprefs it,
Be fo receiv'd. But thus, if powers divine
Behold our human actions, as they do,

I doubt not then, but innocence fhall make
False accufation blush, and tyranny

Tremble at patience.-You, my Lord, best know,
Who least will feem to do fo, my paft life
Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
As I am now unhappy; which is more
Than history can pattern, tho' devis'd,
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,
The mother to a hopeful Prince, here ftanding
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 ftand for. I appeal
To your own confcience, Sir, before Polixenes
Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
How merited to be fo; fince he came,

With what encounter fo uncurrant, I

Have ftrain'd t' appear thus; if one jot beyond
The bounds of honour, or in act, or will
That way inclining, hardned be the hearts
Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin
Cry, fie, upon my grave!

Leo. I ne'er heard yet,

That any of thofe bolder vices wanted
Lefs impudence to gain-fay what they did,
Than to perform it first.

Her. 'That's true enough;

Tho' 'tis a faying, Sir, not due to me.
Leo. You will not own it.

Her: More than mistress of,

What comes to me in name of fault, I must not
At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,
With whom I am accus'd, I do confess,
I lov'd him, as in honour he requir'd;
With fuch a kind of love, as might become
A lady like me; with a love, even fuch,
So and no other, as yourself commanded:
"Which not to have done, I think, had been in me
Both difobedience and ingratitude

To you, and towards your friend; whofe love had fpoke,

Even fince it could fpeak, from an infant, freely,

That it was yours.

Now for Confpiracy,

I know not how it taftes, tho' it be dish'd

For me to try how; all I know of it,
Js, that Camillo was an honeft man;

And why he left your Court, the Gods themselves
(Wotting no more than 1,) are ignorant.

Leo. You knew of his departure, as you know
What you have underta'en to do in's absence.
Her. Sir,

You speak a language that I understand not;
My life ftands in the level of your dreams,
Which I'll lay down.

Leo. Your Actions are my Dreams.
You had a Baftard by Pelixenes,

And

And I but dream'd it:

as you were past all fhame,.. (Those of your Fact are so) so past all truth;

Which to deny, concerns more than avails: for, as
Thy brat hath been caft out, like to it felf,
No father owning it, (which is, indeed,
More criminal in thee than it) fo thou
Shalt feel our juftice; in whofe easiest paffage
Look for no less than death.

Her. Sir, fpare your threats;

The bug, which you would fright me with, I feek:
To me can life be no commodity..

The crown and comfort of my life, your Favour,
I do give loft; for I do feel it

gone,

But know not how it went. My fecond joy,
The first-fruits of my body, from his prefence
I'm barr'd like one infectious. My third comfort,
(Starr'd moft unluckily,) is from my breast
(The innocent milk in its moft innocent mouth)
Hal'd out to murder; my felf on every poft
Proclaim'd a ftrumpet; with immodest hatred
The child-bed privilege deny'd, which 'longs
To women of all fashion: laftly, hurried
Here to this place, i'th' open air, before
I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,
Tell me what bleffings I have here alive,
That I fhould fear to die? therefore proceed:
But yet hear this; mistake me not; no life,-
I prize it not a ftraw; but for mine honour,
Which I would free, if I fhall be condemn'd
Upon furmifes, (all proofs fleeping else,
But what your jealoufies awake,) I tell you,
'Tis Rigour, and not Law. Your Honours all,
I do refer me to the Oracle :.

Apollo be my judge.

Enter Dion and Cleomines.

Lord. This your request

Is altogether juft; therefore bring forth,

And in Apollo's name, his Oracle.

Her. The Emperor of Rua was my father,

Oh,