And never to my red-look'd anger be
The trumpet any more! Pray you, Emilia,
Commend my beft obedience to the Queen,
If the dares truft me with her little babe,
I'll fhew't the King, and undertake to be
Her advocate to th' loud'ft. We do not know,
How he may foften at the fight o'th' child:
The filence often of pure innocence
Perfuades, when speaking fails.

Emil. Most worthy Madam,

Your honour and your goodness is fo evident,
That your free undertaking cannot mifs
A thriving iffue: there is no lady living
So meet for this great errand. Please your ladyship
To vifit the next room, I'll prefently

Acquaint the Queen of your moft noble offer,
Who but to day hammer'd of this defign;

But durft not tempt a minifter of honour,
Left fhe fhould be deny'd.

Paul. Tell her, Emilia,

I'll use that tongue I have; if wit flow from't,
As boldness from my bofom, let't not be doubted
I fhall do good.

Emil. Now be you bleft for it!

I'll to the Queen: please you, come fomething nearer. Goa. Madam, if't please the Queen to fend the babe, I know not what I fhall incur, to pass it,

Having no warrant.

Paul. You need not fear it, Sir;

The child was prisoner to the womb, and is
By law and procefs of great nature thence
Free'd and enfranchis'd; not a party to
The anger of the King, nor guilty of,
If any be, the trefpafs of the Queen.
Goa. I do believe it.

Paul. Do not you fear; upon mine honour, I
Will stand 'twixt you and danger.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE changes to the Palace.

Enter Leontes, Antigonus, Lords and other Attendants.

Leo.

TOR night, nor day, no reft;it is but weakness

NOR

To bear the matter thus ; meer weakness, if
The cause were not in being; part o'th' caufe,
She, the adultrefs; for the Harlot-King
Is quite beyond mine arm; out of the blank
And level of my brain; plot-proof; but she
I can hook to me: fay, that he were gone,
Given to the fire, a moiety of my reft
Might come to me again. Who's there?

Atten. My Lord.

Enter an Attendant.

Leo. How do's the boy?

Atten. He took good reft to night; 'tis hop'd, His fickness is discharg'd.

Leo. To fee his nobleness!

Conceiving the difhonour of his mother,
He ftraight declin'd, droop'd, took it deeply;
Faften'd, and fix'd the fhame on't in himself;
Threw off his fpirit, his appetite, his fleep,
And down-right languifh'd. Leave me folely; go,
[Exit Attendant.
See how he fares. -Fie, fie, no thought of him ;-
The very thought of my revenges that way
Recoyl upon me; in himself too mighty,
And in his parties, his alliance; let him be,
Until a time may ferve. For present vengeance,
Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes

Laugh at me; make their pastime at my forrow;
They fhould not laugh, if I could reach them; nor
Shall fhe, within my power.

Enter Paulina, with a Child.

Lord. You must not enter.

Paul. Nay rather, good my lords, be fecond to me: Fear you his tyrannous paffion more, alas,

Than the Queen's life? a gracious innocent foul,
More free than he is jealous.

Ant. That's enough.

Atten. [within] Madam, he hath not slept to night; commanded,

None fhould come at him.

Paul. Not fo hot, good Sir;

I come to bring him fleep. 'Tis fuch as you,
That creep like fhadows by him, and do figh
At each his needless heavings; fuch as you
Nourish the cause of his awaking. I

Do come with words, as medicinal, as true;
(Honeft, as either ;) to purge him of that humour,
That preffes him from fleep.

Leo. What noise there, ho?

Paul. No noife, my Lord, but needful conference, About fome goffips for your Highness.

Leo. How?

Away with that audacious lady.—Antigonus,

I charg'd thee, that she should not come about me;
I knew, fhe would.

Ant. I told her fo, my Lord,

On your displeasure's peril and on mine,
She fhould not vifit you.

Leo. What? can'ft not rule her?

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 fhall not rule me.

Ant. Lo-you now, you hear,

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

Paul. Good my Liege, I come
And I beseech you, hear me, who profess
Myfelf your loyal fervant, your phyfician,

Your

Your most obedient counsellor: yet that dares
Lefs appear fo, in comforting your evils,
Than fuch as moft feems yours. I fay, I come
From your good Queen.

Leo. Good Queen ?

Paul. Good Queen, my Lord,
Good Queen, I tay, good Queen;

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

Leo. Force her hence.

Paul. Let him, that makes but trifles of his eyes,
First hand me on mine own accord, I'll off;
But firft, I'll do my errand. The good Queen,
For fhe is good, hath brought you forth a daughter,
Here 'tis ; commends it to your bleffing.

Leo. Out!

[Laying down the Child.

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

Paul. Not fo

I am as ignorant in That, as you

In fo intit❜ling me; and no less honeft,

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

Leo. Traitors!

Will you not push her out? give her the bastard.
[To Antigonus.
Thou dotard, thou art woman-tyr'd; unroofted
By thy dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard,
Take't up, I fay; give't to thy croan.

Paul. For ever

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou

Take'ft up the Princess, by that forced baseness

Which he has put upon't!

Leo. He dreads his wife.

Paul. So, I would, you did : then 'twere past all doubt, You'd call your children yours.

Leo. A neft of traytors!

Ant. I am none, by this good light.

Paul. Nor I; nor any.

M 3

But

But one, that's here; and that's himself. For he
The facred honour of himself, his Queen's,
His hopeful-fon's, his babe's, betrays to flander,
Whofe fting is fharper than the fword's; and will not
(For as the cafe now ftands, it is a curfe
He cannot be compell'd to't) once remove
The root of his opinion, which is rotten,
As ever oak or ftone was found.

Leo. A callat

Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband,
And now baits me!This brat is none of mine;
It is the iffue of Palixenes.

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

Paul. It is yours ;

Arid, might we lay th old proverb to your charge,
So like you, 'tis the worfe. Behold, my lords,
Altho' the print be little, the whole matter
And copy of the father; eye, nose, lip,

The trick of's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley,
The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek, his fmiles,
The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger.
And thou, good Goddefs Nature, which haft 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; left the fufpect, as he does,
Her children not her husband's.

Leo. A grofs hag!

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

That wilt not ftay her tongue.

Ant. Hang all the husbands,

That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself
Hardly one fubject.

Leo. Once more, take her hence.

Paul. A moft unworthy and unnatural lord

Can do no more.

Leo. I'll ha' thee burnt.

Paul. I care not;

It is an heretick that makes the fire,

Not the which burns in't. I'll not call you tyrant,

But