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The Winter's Tale
The Winter's Tale
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The Winter's Tale

William Shakespeare

The Winter's Tale

Dramatis Personae

LEONTES, King of Sicilia

MAMILLIUS, his son, the young Prince of Sicilia

CAMILLO, lord of Sicilia

ANTIGONUS, " " "

CLEOMENES, " " "

DION, " " "

POLIXENES, King of Bohemia

FLORIZEL, his son, Prince of Bohemia

ARCHIDAMUS, a lord of Bohemia

OLD SHEPHERD, reputed father of Perdita

CLOWN, his son

AUTOLYCUS, a rogue

A MARINER

A GAOLER

TIME, as Chorus

HERMIONE, Queen to Leontes

PERDITA, daughter to Leontes and Hermione

PAULINA, wife to Antigonus

EMILIA, a lady attending on the Queen

MOPSA, shepherdess

DORCAS, "

Other Lords, Gentlemen, Ladies, Officers, Servants, Shepherds,

Shepherdesses

SCENE: Sicilia and Bohemia

ACT I. SCENE I. Sicilia. The palace of LEONTES

Enter CAMILLO and ARCHIDAMUS

  ARCHIDAMUS. If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, onthe    like occasion whereon my services are now on foot, you shallsee,    as I have said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia and your    Sicilia.  CAMILLO. I think this coming summer the King of Sicilia meansto    pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.  ARCHIDAMUS. Wherein our entertainment shall shame us we will be    justified in our loves; for indeed-  CAMILLO. Beseech you-  ARCHIDAMUS. Verily, I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge:we    cannot with such magnificence, in so rare- I know not what to    say. We will give you sleepy drinks, that your senses,    unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot    praise us, as little accuse us.  CAMILLO. You pay a great deal too dear for what's given freely.  ARCHIDAMUS. Believe me, I speak as my understanding instructsme    and as mine honesty puts it to utterance.  CAMILLO. Sicilia cannot show himself overkind to Bohemia. Theywere    train'd together in their childhoods; and there rootedbetwixt    them then such an affection which cannot choose but branchnow.    Since their more mature dignities and royal necessities made    separation of their society, their encounters, though not    personal, have been royally attorneyed with interchange ofgifts,    letters, loving embassies; that they have seem'd to betogether,    though absent; shook hands, as over a vast; and embrac'd asit    were from the ends of opposed winds. The heavens continuetheir    loves!  ARCHIDAMUS. I think there is not in the world either malice or    matter to alter it. You have an unspeakable comfort of youryoung    Prince Mamillius; it is a gentleman of the greatest promisethat    ever came into my note.  CAMILLO. I very well agree with you in the hopes of him. It isa    gallant child; one that indeed physics the subject, makes old    hearts fresh; they that went on crutches ere he was borndesire    yet their life to see him a man.  ARCHIDAMUS. Would they else be content to die?  CAMILLO. Yes; if there were no other excuse why they shoulddesire    to live.  ARCHIDAMUS. If the King had no son, they would desire to liveon    crutches till he had one.Exeunt

SCENE II. Sicilia. The palace of LEONTES

Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, HERMIONE, MAMILLIUS, CAMILLO, and ATTENDANTS

  POLIXENES. Nine changes of the wat'ry star hath been    The shepherd's note since we have left our throne    Without a burden. Time as long again    Would be fill'd up, my brother, with our thanks;    And yet we should for perpetuity    Go hence in debt. And therefore, like a cipher,    Yet standing in rich place, I multiply    With one 'We thank you' many thousands moe    That go before it.  LEONTES. Stay your thanks a while,    And pay them when you part.  POLIXENES. Sir, that's to-morrow.    I am question'd by my fears of what may chance    Or breed upon our absence, that may blow    No sneaping winds at home, to make us say    'This is put forth too truly.' Besides, I have stay'd    To tire your royalty.  LEONTES. We are tougher, brother,    Than you can put us to't.  POLIXENES. No longer stay.  LEONTES. One sev'night longer.  POLIXENES. Very sooth, to-morrow.  LEONTES. We'll part the time between's then; and in that    I'll no gainsaying.  POLIXENES. Press me not, beseech you, so.    There is no tongue that moves, none, none i' th' world,    So soon as yours could win me. So it should now,    Were there necessity in your request, although    'Twere needful I denied it. My affairs    Do even drag me homeward; which to hinder    Were in your love a whip to me; my stay    To you a charge and trouble. To save both,    Farewell, our brother.  LEONTES. Tongue-tied, our Queen? Speak you.  HERMIONE. I had thought, sir, to have held my peace until    You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir,    Charge him too coldly. Tell him you are sure    All in Bohemia's well- this satisfaction    The by-gone day proclaim'd. Say this to him,    He's beat from his best ward.  LEONTES. Well said, Hermione.  HERMIONE. To tell he longs to see his son were strong;    But let him say so then, and let him go;    But let him swear so, and he shall not stay;    We'll thwack him hence with distaffs.    [To POLIXENES] Yet of your royal presence I'll    adventure the borrow of a week. When at Bohemia    You take my lord, I'll give him my commission    To let him there a month behind the gest    Prefix'd for's parting. – Yet, good deed, Leontes,    I love thee not a jar o' th' clock behind    What lady she her lord. – You'll stay?  POLIXENES. No, madam.  HERMIONE. Nay, but you will?  POLIXENES. I may not, verily.  HERMIONE. Verily!    You put me off with limber vows; but I,    Though you would seek t' unsphere the stars with oaths,    Should yet say 'Sir, no going.' Verily,    You shall not go; a lady's 'verily' is    As potent as a lord's. Will go yet?    Force me to keep you as a prisoner,    Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees    When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you?    My prisoner or my guest? By your dread 'verily,'    One of them you shall be.  POLIXENES. Your guest, then, madam:    To be your prisoner should import offending;    Which is for me less easy to commit    Than you to punish.  HERMIONE. Not your gaoler then,    But your kind. hostess. Come, I'll question you    Of my lord's tricks and yours when you were boys.    You were pretty lordings then!  POLIXENES. We were, fair Queen,    Two lads that thought there was no more behind    But such a day to-morrow as to-day,    And to be boy eternal.  HERMIONE. Was not my lord    The verier wag o' th' two?  POLIXENES. We were as twinn'd lambs that did frisk i' th' sun    And bleat the one at th' other. What we chang'd    Was innocence for innocence; we knew not    The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream'd    That any did. Had we pursu'd that life,    And our weak spirits ne'er been higher rear'd    With stronger blood, we should have answer'd heaven    Boldly 'Not guilty,' the imposition clear'd    Hereditary ours.  HERMIONE. By this we gather    You have tripp'd since.  POLIXENES. O my most sacred lady,    Temptations have since then been born to 's, for    In those unfledg'd days was my wife a girl;    Your precious self had then not cross'd the eyes    Of my young playfellow.  HERMIONE. Grace to boot!    Of this make no conclusion, lest you say    Your queen and I are devils. Yet, go on;    Th' offences we have made you do we'll answer,    If you first sinn'd with us, and that with us    You did continue fault, and that you slipp'd not    With any but with us.  LEONTES. Is he won yet?  HERMIONE. He'll stay, my lord.  LEONTES. At my request he would not.    Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok'st    To better purpose.  HERMIONE. Never?  LEONTES. Never but once.  HERMIONE. What! Have I twice said well? When was't before?    I prithee tell me; cram's with praise, and make's    As fat as tame things. One good deed dying tongueless    Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.    Our praises are our wages; you may ride's    With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere    With spur we heat an acre. But to th' goal:    My last good deed was to entreat his stay;    What was my first? It has an elder sister,    Or I mistake you. O, would her name were Grace!    But once before I spoke to th' purpose- When?    Nay, let me have't; I long.  LEONTES. Why, that was when    Three crabbed months had sour'd themselves to death,    Ere I could make thee open thy white hand    And clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter    'I am yours for ever.'  HERMIONE. 'Tis Grace indeed.    Why, lo you now, I have spoke to th' purpose twice:    The one for ever earn'd a royal husband;    Th' other for some while a friend.                                  [Giving her hand to POLIXENES]  LEONTES. [Aside] Too hot, too hot!    To mingle friendship far is mingling bloods.    I have tremor cordis on me; my heart dances,    But not for joy, not joy. This entertainment    May a free face put on; derive a liberty    From heartiness, from bounty, fertile bosom,    And well become the agent. 'T may, I grant;    But to be paddling palms and pinching fingers,    As now they are, and making practis'd smiles    As in a looking-glass; and then to sigh, as 'twere    The mort o' th' deer. O, that is entertainment    My bosom likes not, nor my brows! Mamillius,    Art thou my boy?  MAMILLIUS. Ay, my good lord.  LEONTES. I' fecks!    Why, that's my bawcock. What! hast smutch'd thy nose?    They say it is a copy out of mine. Come, Captain,    We must be neat- not neat, but cleanly, Captain.    And yet the steer, the heifer, and the calf,    Are all call'd neat. – Still virginalling    Upon his palm? – How now, you wanton calf,    Art thou my calf?  MAMILLIUS. Yes, if you will, my lord.  LEONTES. Thou want'st a rough pash and the shoots that I have,    To be full like me; yet they say we are    Almost as like as eggs. Women say so,    That will say anything. But were they false    As o'er-dy'd blacks, as wind, as waters- false    As dice are to be wish'd by one that fixes    No bourn 'twixt his and mine; yet were it true    To say this boy were like me. Come, sir page,    Look on me with your welkin eye. Sweet villain!    Most dear'st! my collop! Can thy dam? – may't be?    Affection! thy intention stabs the centre.    Thou dost make possible things not so held,    Communicat'st with dreams- how can this be? -    With what's unreal thou coactive art,    And fellow'st nothing. Then 'tis very credent    Thou mayst co-join with something; and thou dost-    And that beyond commission; and I find it,    And that to the infection of my brains    And hard'ning of my brows.  POLIXENES. What means Sicilia?  HERMIONE. He something seems unsettled.  POLIXENES. How, my lord!    What cheer? How is't with you, best brother?  HERMIONE. You look    As if you held a brow of much distraction.    Are you mov'd, my lord?  LEONTES. No, in good earnest.    How sometimes nature will betray its folly,    Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime    To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines    Of my boy's face, methoughts I did recoil    Twenty-three years; and saw myself unbreech'd,    In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzl'd,    Lest it should bite its master and so prove,    As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.    How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,    This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend,    Will you take eggs for money?  MAMILLIUS. No, my lord, I'll fight.  LEONTES. You will? Why, happy man be's dole! My brother,    Are you so fond of your young prince as we    Do seem to be of ours?  POLIXENES. If at home, sir,    He's all my exercise, my mirth, my matter;    Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy;    My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all.    He makes a July's day short as December,    And with his varying childness cures in me    Thoughts that would thick my blood.  LEONTES. So stands this squire    Offic'd with me. We two will walk, my lord,    And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione,    How thou lov'st us show in our brother's welcome;    Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap;    Next to thyself and my young rover, he's    Apparent to my heart.  HERMIONE. If you would seek us,    We are yours i' th' garden. Shall's attend you there?  LEONTES. To your own bents dispose you; you'll be found,    Be you beneath the sky. [Aside] I am angling now,    Though you perceive me not how I give line.    Go to, go to!    How she holds up the neb, the bill to him!    And arms her with the boldness of a wife    To her allowing husband!

Exeunt POLIXENES, HERMIONE, and ATTENDANTS

    Gone already!    Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd one!    Go, play, boy, play; thy mother plays, and I    Play too; but so disgrac'd a part, whose issue    Will hiss me to my grave. Contempt and clamour    Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play. There have been,    Or I am much deceiv'd, cuckolds ere now;    And many a man there is, even at this present,    Now while I speak this, holds his wife by th' arm    That little thinks she has been sluic'd in's absence,    And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by    Sir Smile, his neighbour. Nay, there's comfort in't,    Whiles other men have gates and those gates open'd,    As mine, against their will. Should all despair    That hath revolted wives, the tenth of mankind    Would hang themselves. Physic for't there's none;    It is a bawdy planet, that will strike    Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis pow'rfull, think it,    From east, west, north, and south. Be it concluded,    No barricado for a belly. Know't,    It will let in and out the enemy    With bag and baggage. Many thousand on's    Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy!  MAMILLIUS. I am like you, they say.  LEONTES. Why, that's some comfort.    What! Camillo there?  CAMILLO. Ay, my good lord.  LEONTES. Go play, Mamillius; thou'rt an honest man.                                                  Exit MAMILLIUS    Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.  CAMILLO. You had much ado to make his anchor hold;    When you cast out, it still came home.  LEONTES. Didst note it?  CAMILLO. He would not stay at your petitions; made    His business more material.  LEONTES. Didst perceive it?    [Aside] They're here with me already; whisp'ring, rounding,    'Sicilia is a so-forth.' 'Tis far gone    When I shall gust it last. – How came't, Camillo,    That he did stay?  CAMILLO. At the good Queen's entreaty.  LEONTES. 'At the Queen's' be't. 'Good' should be pertinent;    But so it is, it is not. Was this taken    By any understanding pate but thine?    For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in    More than the common blocks. Not noted, is't,    But of the finer natures, by some severals    Of head-piece extraordinary? Lower messes    Perchance are to this business purblind? Say.  CAMILLO. Business, my lord? I think most understand    Bohemia stays here longer.  LEONTES. Ha?  CAMILLO. Stays here longer.  LEONTES. Ay, but why?  CAMILLO. To satisfy your Highness, and the entreaties    Of our most gracious mistress.  LEONTES. Satisfy    Th' entreaties of your mistress! Satisfy!    Let that suffice. I have trusted thee, Camillo,    With all the nearest things to my heart, as well    My chamber-councils, wherein, priest-like, thou    Hast cleans'd my bosom- I from thee departed    Thy penitent reform'd; but we have been    Deceiv'd in thy integrity, deceiv'd    In that which seems so.  CAMILLO. Be it forbid, my lord!  LEONTES. To bide upon't: thou art not honest; or,    If thou inclin'st that way, thou art a coward,    Which hoxes honesty behind, restraining    From course requir'd; or else thou must be counted    A servant grafted in my serious trust,    And therein negligent; or else a fool    That seest a game play'd home, the rich stake drawn,    And tak'st it all for jest.  CAMILLO. My gracious lord,    I may be negligent, foolish, and fearful:    In every one of these no man is free    But that his negligence, his folly, fear,    Among the infinite doings of the world,    Sometime puts forth. In your affairs, my lord,    If ever I were wilfull-negligent,    It was my folly; if industriously    I play'd the fool, it was my negligence,    Not weighing well the end; if ever fearful    To do a thing where I the issue doubted,    Whereof the execution did cry out    Against the non-performance, 'twas a fear    Which oft infects the wisest. These, my lord,    Are such allow'd infirmities that honesty    Is never free of. But, beseech your Grace,    Be plainer with me; let me know my trespass    By its own visage; if I then deny it,    'Tis none of mine.  LEONTES. Ha' not you seen, Camillo-    But that's past doubt; you have, or your eye-glass    Is thicker than a cuckold's horn- or heard-    For to a vision so apparent rumour    Cannot be mute- or thought- for cogitation    Resides not in that man that does not think-    My wife is slippery? If thou wilt confess-    Or else be impudently negative,    To have nor eyes nor ears nor thought- then say    My wife's a hobby-horse, deserves a name    As rank as any flax-wench that puts to    Before her troth-plight. Say't and justify't.  CAMILLO. I would not be a stander-by to hear    My sovereign mistress clouded so, without    My present vengeance taken. Shrew my heart!    You never spoke what did become you less    Than this; which to reiterate were sin    As deep as that, though true.  LEONTES. Is whispering nothing?    Is leaning cheek to cheek? Is meeting noses?    Kissing with inside lip? Stopping the career    Of laughter with a sigh? – a note infallible    Of breaking honesty. Horsing foot on foot?    Skulking in corners? Wishing clocks more swift;    Hours, minutes; noon, midnight? And all eyes    Blind with the pin and web but theirs, theirs only,    That would unseen be wicked- is this nothing?    Why, then the world and all that's in't is nothing;    The covering sky is nothing; Bohemia nothing;    My is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings,    If this be nothing.  CAMILLO. Good my lord, be cur'd    Of this diseas'd opinion, and betimes;    For 'tis most dangerous.  LEONTES. Say it be, 'tis true.  CAMILLO. No, no, my lord.  LEONTES. It is; you lie, you lie.    I say thou liest, Camillo, and I hate thee;    Pronounce thee a gross lout, a mindless slave,    Or else a hovering temporizer that    Canst with thine eyes at once see good and evil,    Inclining to them both. Were my wife's liver    Infected as her life, she would not live    The running of one glass.  CAMILLO. Who does her?  LEONTES. Why, he that wears her like her medal, hanging    About his neck, Bohemia; who- if I    Had servants true about me that bare eyes    To see alike mine honour as their profits,    Their own particular thrifts, they would do that    Which should undo more doing. Ay, and thou,    His cupbearer- whom I from meaner form    Have bench'd and rear'd to worship; who mayst see,    Plainly as heaven sees earth and earth sees heaven,    How I am gall'd- mightst bespice a cup    To give mine enemy a lasting wink;    Which draught to me were cordial.  CAMILLO. Sir, my lord,    I could do this; and that with no rash potion,    But with a ling'ring dram that should not work    Maliciously like poison. But I cannot    Believe this crack to be in my dread mistress,    So sovereignly being honourable.    I have lov'd thee-  LEONTES. Make that thy question, and go rot!    Dost think I am so muddy, so unsettled,    To appoint myself in this vexation; sully    The purity and whiteness of my sheets-    Which to preserve is sleep, which being spotted    Is goads, thorns, nettles, tails of wasps;    Give scandal to the blood o' th' Prince, my son-    Who I do think is mine, and love as mine-    Without ripe moving to 't? Would I do this?    Could man so blench?  CAMILLO. I must believe you, sir.    I do; and will fetch off Bohemia for't;    Provided that, when he's remov'd, your Highness    Will take again your queen as yours at first,    Even for your son's sake; and thereby for sealing    The injury of tongues in courts and kingdoms    Known and allied to yours.  LEONTES. Thou dost advise me    Even so as I mine own course have set down.    I'll give no blemish to her honour, none.  CAMILLO. My lord,    Go then; and with a countenance as clear    As friendship wears at feasts, keep with Bohemia    And with your queen. I am his cupbearer;    If from me he have wholesome beverage,    Account me not your servant.  LEONTES. This is all:    Do't, and thou hast the one half of my heart;    Do't not, thou split'st thine own.  CAMILLO. I'll do't, my lord.  LEONTES. I will seem friendly, as thou hast advis'd me. Exit  CAMILLO. O miserable lady! But, for me,    What case stand I in? I must be the poisoner    Of good Polixenes; and my ground to do't    Is the obedience to a master; one    Who, in rebellion with himself, will have    All that are his so too. To do this deed,    Promotion follows. If I could find example    Of thousands that had struck anointed kings    And flourish'd after, I'd not do't; but since    Nor brass, nor stone, nor parchment, bears not one,    Let villainy itself forswear't. I must    Forsake the court. To do't, or no, is certain    To me a break-neck. Happy star reign now!    Here comes Bohemia.

Enter POLIXENES

  POLIXENES. This is strange. Methinks    My favour here begins to warp. Not speak?    Good day, Camillo.  CAMILLO. Hail, most royal sir!  POLIXENES. What is the news i' th' court?  CAMILLO. None rare, my lord.  POLIXENES. The King hath on him such a countenance    As he had lost some province, and a region    Lov'd as he loves himself; even now I met him    With customary compliment, when he,    Wafting his eyes to th' contrary and falling    A lip of much contempt, speeds from me;    So leaves me to consider what is breeding    That changes thus his manners.  CAMILLO. I dare not know, my lord.  POLIXENES. How, dare not! Do not. Do you know, and dare not    Be intelligent to me? 'Tis thereabouts;    For, to yourself, what you do know, you must,    And cannot say you dare not. Good Camillo,    Your chang'd complexions are to me a mirror    Which shows me mine chang'd too; for I must be    A party in this alteration, finding    Myself thus alter'd with't.  CAMILLO. There is a sickness    Which puts some of us in distemper; but    I cannot name the disease; and it is caught    Of you that yet are well.  POLIXENES. How! caught of me?    Make me not sighted like the basilisk;    I have look'd on thousands who have sped the better    By my regard, but kill'd none so. Camillo-    As you are certainly a gentleman; thereto    Clerk-like experienc'd, which no less adorns    Our gentry than our parents' noble names,    In whose success we are gentle- I beseech you,    If you know aught which does behove my knowledge    Thereof to be inform'd, imprison't not    In ignorant concealment.  CAMILLO. I may not answer.  POLIXENES. A sickness caught of me, and yet I well?    I must be answer'd. Dost thou hear, Camillo?    I conjure thee, by all the parts of man    Which honour does acknowledge, whereof the least    Is not this suit of mine, that thou declare    What incidency thou dost guess of harm    Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near;    Which way to be prevented, if to be;    If not, how best to bear it.  CAMILLO. Sir, I will tell you;    Since I am charg'd in honour, and by him    That I think honourable. Therefore mark my counsel,    Which must be ev'n as swiftly followed as    I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me    Cry lost, and so goodnight.  POLIXENES. On, good Camillo.  CAMILLO. I am appointed him to murder you.  POLIXENES. By whom, Camillo?  CAMILLO. By the King.  POLIXENES. For what?  CAMILLO. He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears,    As he had seen 't or been an instrument    To vice you to't, that you have touch'd his queen    Forbiddenly.  POLIXENES. O, then my best blood turn    To an infected jelly, and my name    Be yok'd with his that did betray the Best!    Turn then my freshest reputation to    A savour that may strike the dullest nostril    Where I arrive, and my approach be shunn'd,    Nay, hated too, worse than the great'st infection    That e'er was heard or read!  CAMILLO. Swear his thought over    By each particular star in heaven and    By all their influences, you may as well    Forbid the sea for to obey the moon    As or by oath remove or counsel shake    The fabric of his folly, whose foundation    Is pil'd upon his faith and will continue    The standing of his body.  POLIXENES. How should this grow?  CAMILLO. I know not; but I am sure 'tis safer to    Avoid what's grown than question how 'tis born.    If therefore you dare trust my honesty,    That lies enclosed in this trunk which you    Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night.    Your followers I will whisper to the business;    And will, by twos and threes, at several posterns,    Clear them o' th' city. For myself, I'll put    My fortunes to your service, which are here    By this discovery lost. Be not uncertain,    For, by the honour of my parents, I    Have utt'red truth; which if you seek to prove,    I dare not stand by; nor shall you be safer    Than one condemn'd by the King's own mouth, thereon    His execution sworn.  POLIXENES. I do believe thee:    I saw his heart in's face. Give me thy hand;    Be pilot to me, and thy places shall    Still neighbour mine. My ships are ready, and    My people did expect my hence departure    Two days ago. This jealousy    Is for a precious creature; as she's rare,    Must it be great; and, as his person's mighty,    Must it be violent; and as he does conceive    He is dishonour'd by a man which ever    Profess'd to him, why, his revenges must    In that be made more bitter. Fear o'ershades me.    Good expedition be my friend, and comfort    The gracious Queen, part of this theme, but nothing    Of his ill-ta'en suspicion! Come, Camillo;    I will respect thee as a father, if    Thou bear'st my life off hence. Let us avoid.  CAMILLO. It is in mine authority to command    The keys of all the posterns. Please your Highness    To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away. Exeunt