Leontes. This sessions, to our great gri...

Leontes. This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce,

Even pushes 'gainst our heart: the party tried

The daughter of a king, our wife, and one

Of us too much beloved. Let us be clear'd

Of being tyrannous, since we so openly

Proceed in justice, which shall have due course,

Even to the guilt or the purgation.

Produce the prisoner.

Officer. It is his highness' pleasure that the queen

Appear in person here in court. Silence!

[Enter HERMIONE guarded;]

PAULINA and Ladies attending]

Leontes. Read the indictment.

Officer. [Reads] Hermione, queen to the worthy

Leontes, king of Sicilia, thou art here accused and

arraigned of high treason, in committing adultery

with Polixenes, king of Bohemia, and conspiring

with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign

lord the king, thy royal husband: the pretence

whereof being by circumstances partly laid open,

thou, Hermione, contrary to the faith and allegiance

of a true subject, didst counsel and aid them, for

their better safety, to fly away by night.

Hermione. Since what I am to say must be but that

Which contradicts my accusation and

The testimony on my part no other

But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me

To say 'not guilty:' mine integrity

Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it,

Be so received. But thus: if powers divine

Behold our human actions, as they do,

I doubt not then but innocence shall make

False accusation blush and tyranny

Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know,

Who least will seem to do so, my past life

Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,

As I am now unhappy; which is more

Than history can pattern, though devised

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 standing

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 stand for. I appeal

To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes

Came to your court, how I was in your grace,

How merited to be so; since he came,

With what encounter so uncurrent I

Have strain'd to appear thus: if one jot beyond

The bound of honour, or in act or will

That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts

Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin

Cry fie upon my grave!

Leontes. I ne'er heard yet

That any of these bolder vices wanted

Less impudence to gainsay what they did

Than to perform it first.

Hermione. That's true enough;

Through 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.

Leontes. You will not own it.

Hermione. More than mistress of

Which comes to me in name of fault, I must not

At all acknowledge. For Polixenes,

With whom I am accused, I do confess

I loved him as in honour he required,

With such a kind of love as might become

A lady like me, with a love even such,

So and no other, as yourself commanded:

Which not to have done I think had been in me

Both disobedience and ingratitude

To you and toward your friend, whose love had spoke,

Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely

That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy,

I know not how it tastes; though it be dish'd

For me to try how: all I know of it

Is that Camillo was an honest man;

And why he left your court, the gods themselves,

Wotting no more than I, are ignorant.

Leontes. You knew of his departure, as you know

What you have underta'en to do in's absence.

Hermione. Sir,

You speak a language that I understand not:

My life stands in the level of your dreams,

Which I'll lay down.

Leontes. Your actions are my dreams;

You had a bastard by Polixenes,

And I but dream'd it. As you were past all shame,—

Those of your fact are so—so past all truth:

Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as

Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself,

No father owning it,—which is, indeed,

More criminal in thee than it,—so thou

Shalt feel our justice, in whose easiest passage

Look for no less than death.

Hermione. Sir, spare your threats:

The bug which you would fright me with I seek.

To me can life be no commodity:

The crown and comfort of my life, your favour,

I do give lost; for I do feel it gone,

But know not how it went. My second joy

And first-fruits of my body, from his presence

I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort

Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast,

The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth,

Haled out to murder: myself on every post

Proclaimed a strumpet: with immodest hatred

The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs

To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried

Here to this place, i' the open air, before

I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,

Tell me what blessings I have here alive,

That I should fear to die? Therefore proceed.

But yet hear this: mistake me not; no life,

I prize it not a straw, but for mine honour,

Which I would free, if I shall be condemn'd

Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else

But what your jealousies awake, I tell you

'Tis rigor and not law. Your honours all,

I do refer me to the oracle:

Apollo be my judge!

First Lord. This your request

Is altogether just: therefore bring forth,

And in Apollos name, his oracle.

[Exeunt certain Officers]

Hermione. The Emperor of Russia was my father:

O that he were alive, and here beholding

His daughter's trial! that he did but see

The flatness of my misery, yet with eyes

Of pity, not revenge!