Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

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2.3 Enter Leontes

LEONTES

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‘th’ cause,

She, th’adultress; 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. Say that she were gone,

Given to the fire, a moiety of my rest

Might come to me again. Who’s there?

Enter a Servant

SERVANT

My lord.

LEONTES

How does the boy?

SERVANT

He took good rest tonight.

’Tis hoped his sickness is discharged.

LEONTES To see his nobleness!

Conceiving the dishonour of his mother

He straight declined, drooped, took it deeply,

Fastened and fixed the shame on’t in himself;

Threw off his spirit, his appetite, his sleep,

And downright languished. Leave me solely. Go,

See how he fares.

Exit Servant

Fie, fie, 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,

Take it on her. Camillo and Polixenes

Laugh at me, make their pastime at my sorrow.

They should not laugh if I could reach them, nor

Shall she, within my power.

Enter Paulina, carrying a babe, with Antigonus,

Lords, and the Servant, trying to restrain her

A LORD

You must not enter.

PAULINA

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.

ANTIGONUS

That’s enough.

SERVANT

Madam, he hath not slept tonight, commanded

None should come at him.

PAULINA

Not so hot, good sir.

I 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 medicinal as true,

Honest as either, to purge him of that humour

That presses him from sleep.

LEONTES

What noise there, ho?

PAULINA

No noise, my lord, but needful conference

About some gossips for your highness.

LEONTES

How?

Away with that audacious lady! Antigonus,

I charged thee that she should not come about me.

I knew she would.

ANTIGONUS

I told her so, my lord,

On your displeasure’s peril and on mine,

She should not visit you.

LEONTES

What, canst not rule her?

PAULINA

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.

ANTIGONUS

La you now, you hear.

When she will take the rein I let her run,

But she’ll not stumble.

PAULINA (to Leontes) Good my liege, I come—

And I beseech you hear me, who professes

Myself your loyal servant, your physician,

Your most obedient counsellor; yet that dares

Less appear so in comforting your evils

Than such as most seem yours—I say, I come

From your good queen.

LEONTES Good queen?

PAULINA

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.

LEONTES (to Lords)

Force her hence.

PAULINA

Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes

First hand me. On mine 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.

She lays down the babe

LEONTES Out!

A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o’door—

A most intelligencing bawd.

PAULINA

Not so.

I am as ignorant in that as you

In so entitling me, and no less honest

Than you are mad, which is enough, I’ll warrant,

As this world goes, to pass for honest.

LEONTES (to Lords)

Traitors,

Will you not push her out?

(To Antigonus)

Give her the bastard.

Thou dotard, thou art woman-tired, unroosted

By thy Dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard,

Take’t up, I say. Give’t to thy crone.

PAULINA (to Antigonus)

For ever

Unvenerable be thy hands if thou

Tak’st up the princess by that forced baseness

Which he has put upon’t.

LEONTES

He dreads his wife.

PAULINA

So I would you did. Then ’twere past all doubt

You’d call your children yours.

LEONTES

A nest of traitors.

ANTIGONUS

I am none, by this good light.

PAULINA

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; and will

not—

For as the case now stands, it is a curse

He cannot be compelled to’t—once remove

The root of his opinion, which is rotten

As ever oak or stone was sound.

LEONTES (to Lords)

A callat

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.

PAULINA

It is yours,

And might we lay th‘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’s 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.

LEONTES (to Antigonus)

A gross hag!—

And lozel, thou art worthy to be hanged,

That wilt not stay her tongue.

ANTIGONUS

Hang all the husbands

That cannot do that feat, you’ll leave yourself

Hardly one subject.

LEONTES

Once more, take her hence.

PAULINA

A most unworthy and unnatural lord

Can do no more.

LEONTES

I’ll ha’ thee burnt.

PAULINA

I care not.

It is an heretic that makes the fire,

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-hinged fancy—something

savours

Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you,

Yea, scandalous to the world.

LEONTES (to Antigonus)

On your allegiance,

Out of the chamber with her! Were I a tyrant,

Where were her life? She durst not call me so

If she did know me one. Away with her!

PAULINA

I pray you do not push me, I’ll be gone.

Look to your babe, my lord; ‘tis yours. Jove send her

A better guiding spirit. What needs these hands?

You that are thus so tender o’er his follies

Will never do him good, not one of you.

So, so. Farewell, we are gone. Exit

LEONTES (to Antigonus)

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 consumed with fire.

Even thou, and none but thou. Take it up straight.

Within this hour bring me word ‘tis 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 set’st on thy wife.

ANTIGONUS

I did not, sir.

These lords, my noble fellows, if they please

Can clear me in’t.

LORDS

We can. My royal liege,

He is not guilty of her coming hither.

LEONTES You’re liars all.

A LORD

Beseech your highness, give us better credit.

We have always truly served 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.

LEONTES

I am a feather for each wind that blows.

Shall I live on, to see this bastard kneel

And call me father? Better burn it now

Than curse it then. But be it. Let it live.

It shall not neither.

(To Antigonus) You, sir, come you hither,

You that have been so tenderly officious

With Lady Margery your midwife there,

To save this bastard’s life—for ’tis a bastard,

So sure as this beard’s grey. What will you adventure

To save this brat’s life?

ANTIGONUS Anything, my lord,

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.

LEONTES

It shall be possible. Swear by this sword

Thou wilt perform my bidding.

ANTIGONUS

I will, my lord.

LEONTES

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 it 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.

ANTIGONUS

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; (to the babe) and

blessing

Against this cruelty, fight on thy side,

Poor thing, condemned to loss.

Exit with the babe

LEONTES

No, I’ll not rear

Another’s issue.

Enter a Servant

SERVANT

Please your highness, posts

From those you sent to th’oracle are come

An hour since. Cleomenes and Dion,

Being well arrived from Delphos, are both landed,

Hasting to th’ court.

A LORD (to Leontes)

So please you, sir, their speed Hath been. beyond account.

LEONTES

Twenty-three days

They have been absent. ’Tis 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 accused, so shall she have

A just and open trial. While she lives

My heart will be a burden to me. Leave me,

And think upon my bidding.

Exeunt severally

3.1 Enter Cleomenes and Dion

CLEOMENES

The climate’s delicate, the air most sweet;

Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing

The common praise it bears.

DION

I shall report,

For most it caught me, the celestial habits—

Methinks I so should term them—and the reverence

Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice-

How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly

It was i‘th’ off’ring!

CLEOMENES

But of all, the burst

And the ear-deaf‘ning voice o’th’ oracle,

Kin to Jove’s thunder, so surprised my sense

That I was nothing.

DION

If th‘event o’th’ journey

Prove as successful to the Queen—O, be’t so!—

As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy,

The time is worth the use on’t.

CLEOMENES

Great Apollo

Turn all to th’ best! These proclamations,

So forcing faults upon Hermione,

I little like.

DION

The violent carriage of it

Will clear or end the business. When the oracle,

Thus by Apollo’s great divine sealed up,

Shall the contents discover, something rare

Even then will rush to knowledge. Go. Fresh horses!

And gracious be the issue.

Exeunt

3.2 Enter Leontes, Lords, and Officers

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 cleared

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.

Enter Hermione guarded, with Paulina and Ladies

Silence.

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 played 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 strained t’appear thus. If one jot beyond

The bound of honour, or in act or will

That way inclining, hardened 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,

Though ’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 dished

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 dreamed 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 barred, like one infectious. My third comfort,

Starred most unluckily, is from my breast,

The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth,

Haled out to murder; myself on every post

Proclaimed a strumpet, with immodest hatred

The childbed privilege denied, which ‘longs

To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried

Here, to this place, i’th’ 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 condemned

Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else

But what your jealousies awake, I tell you

’Tis rigour, and not law. Your honours all,

I do refer me to the oracle.

Apollo be my judge.

A LORD

This your request

Is altogether just. Therefore bring forth,

And in Apollo’s 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.

[Enter Officers with Cleomenes and Dion]

OFFICER

You here shall swear upon this sword of justice

That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have

Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought

This sealed-up oracle, by the hand delivered

Of great Apollo’s priest; and that since then

You have not dared to break the holy seal,

Nor read the secrets in’t.

CLEOMENES and DION All this we swear. LEONTES Break up the seals, and read.

OFFICER (reads) Hermione is chaste, Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true subject, Leontes a jealous tyrant, his innocent babe truly begotten, and the King shall live without an heir if that which is lost be not found.

LORDS

Now blessèd be the great Apollo!

HERMIONE

Praised!

LEONTES Hast thou read truth?

OFFICER

Ay, my lord, even so as it is here set down.

LEONTES

There is no truth at all i’th’ oracle.

The sessions shall proceed. This is mere falsehood.

Enter a Servant

SERVANT

My lord the King! The King!

LEONTES What is the business?

SERVANT

O sir, I shall be hated to report it.

The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear

Of the Queen’s speed, is gone.

LEONTES

How, ‘gone’?

SERVANT

Is dead.

LEONTES

Apollo’s angry, and the heavens themselves

Do strike at my injustice.

Hermione falls to the ground

How now there?

PAULINA

This news is mortal to the Queen. Look down

And see what death is doing.

LEONTES

Take her hence.

Her heart is but o’ercharged. She will recover.

I have too much believed mine own suspicion.

Beseech you, tenderly apply to her

Some remedies for life.

Exeunt Paulina and Ladies, carrying Hermione

Apollo, pardon

My great profaneness ’gainst thine oracle.

I’ll reconcile me to Polixenes,

New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo,

Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy;

For being transported by my jealousies

To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose

Camillo for the minister to poison

My friend Polixenes, which had been done,

But that the good mind of Camillo tardied

My swift command. Though I with death and with

Reward did threaten and encourage him,

Not doing it, and being done, he, most humane

And filled with honour, to my kingly guest

Unclasped my practice, quit his fortunes here—

Which you knew great—and to the certain hazard

Of all incertainties himself commended,

No richer than his honour. How he glisters

Through my rust! And how his piety

Does my deeds make the blacker!

Enter Paulina

PAULINA Woe the while!

O cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,

Break too.

A LORD What fit is this, good lady?

PAULINA (to Leontes)

What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?

What wheels, racks, fires? What flaying, boiling

In leads or oils? What old or newer torture

Must I receive, whose every word deserves

To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny,

Together working with thy jealousies-

Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle

For girls of nine—O think what they have done,

And then run mad indeed, stark mad, for all

Thy bygone fooleries were but spices of it.

That thou betrayed‘st Polixenes, ’twas nothing.

That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant,

And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much

Thou wouldst have poisoned good Camillo’s honour

To have him kill a king—poor trespasses,

More monstrous standing by, whereof I reckon

The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter

To be or none or little, though a devil

Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.

Nor is’t directly laid to thee the death

Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts—

Thoughts high for one so tender—cleft the heart

That could conceive a gross and foolish sire

Blemished his gracious dam. This is not, no,

Laid to thy answer. But the last—O lords,

When I have said, cry woe! The Queen, the Queen,

The sweet‘st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance

for’t

Not dropped down yet.

A LORD

The higher powers forbid!

PAULINA

I say she’s dead. I’ll swear’t. If word nor oath

Prevail not, go and see. If you can bring

Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye,

Heat outwardly or breath within, I’ll serve you

As I would do the gods. But O thou tyrant,

Do not repent these things, for they are heavier

Than all thy woes can stir. Therefore betake thee

To nothing but despair. A thousand knees,

Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,

Upon a barren mountain, and still winter

In storm perpetual, could not move the gods

To look that way thou wert.

LEONTES

Go on, go on.

Thou canst not speak too much. I have deserved

All tongues to talk their bitt’rest.

A LORD (to Paulina)

Say no more.

Howe‘er the business goes, you have made fault

I’th’ boldness of your speech.

PAULINA

I am sorry for’t.

All faults I make, when I shall come to know them

I do repent. Alas, I have showed too much

The rashness of a woman. He is touched

To th’ noble heart. What’s gone and what’s past help

Should be past grief.

(To Leontes) Do not receive affliction

At my petition. I beseech you, rather

Let me be punished, that have minded you

Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege,

Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman.

The love I bore your queen—lo, fool again!

I’ll speak of her no more, nor of your children.

I’ll not remember you of my own lord,

Who is lost too. Take your patience to you,

And I’ll say nothing.

LEONTES

Thou didst speak but well

When most the truth, which I receive much better

Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee bring me

To the dead bodies of my queen and son.

One grave shall be for both. Upon them shall

The causes of their death appear, unto

Our shame perpetual. Once a day I’ll visit

The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there

Shall be my recreation. So long as nature

Will bear up with this exercise, so long

I daily vow to use it. Come, and lead me

To these sorrows.

Exeunt