ACT 2
Scene 2

...truth were known.
Enter Paulina, a Gentleman, and Paulina’s Attendants.
to Gentleman
The keeper of the prison, call to him.
Let him have knowledge who I am. Good lady,
No court in Europe is too good for thee.
What dost thou then in prison?

Enter Jailer, with the Gentleman.
Now, good sir,
You know me, do you not?

...much I honor.
Pray you then,
Conduct me to the Queen.

...have express commandment.
Here’s ado, to lock up honesty and honor from
Th’ access of gentle visitors. Is ’t lawful, pray you,
To see her women? Any of them? Emilia?

...bring Emilia forth.
I pray now, call her.—
Withdraw yourselves.

...at your conference.
Well, be ’t so, prithee.
Here’s such ado to make no stain a stain
As passes coloring.

Enter Emilia with Jailer.
Dear gentlewoman,
How fares our gracious lady?

...her time delivered.
A boy?

...innocent as you.”
I dare be sworn.
These dangerous unsafe lunes i’ th’ King, beshrew them!
He must be told on ’t, and he shall. The office
Becomes a woman best. I’ll take ’t upon me.
If I prove honey-mouthed, let my tongue blister
And never to my red-looked anger be
The trumpet anymore. Pray you, Emilia,
Commend my best obedience to the Queen.
If she dares trust me with her little babe,
I’ll show ’t the King and undertake to be
Her advocate to th’ loud’st We do not know
How he may soften at the sight o’ th’ child.
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades when speaking fails.

...should be denied.
Tell her, Emilia,
I’ll use that tongue I have. If wit flow from ’t
As boldness from my bosom, let ’t not be doubted
I shall do good.

...Having no warrant.
You need not fear it, sir.
This child was prisoner to the womb, and is
By law and process of great nature thence
Freed and enfranchised, not a party to
The anger of the King, nor guilty of,
If any be, the trespass of the Queen.

...do believe it.
Do not you fear. Upon mine honor, I
Will stand betwixt you and danger.
They exit.

Scene 3

...within my power.
Enter Paulina, carrying the baby, with Servants, Antigonus, and Lords.

...must not enter.
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.

...come at him.
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 humor
That presses him from sleep.

...noise there, ho?
No noise, my lord, but needful conference
About some gossips for your Highness.

...not rule her?
From all dishonesty he can. In this,
Unless he take the course that you have done—
Commit me for committing honor—trust it,
He shall not rule me.

...she’ll not stumble.
Good my liege, I come—
And I beseech you hear me, who professes
Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
Your most obedient counselor, yet that dares
Less appear so in comforting your evils
Than such as most seem yours—I say I come
From your good queen.

... Good queen?
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.

...Force her hence.
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 baby.

...most intelligencing bawd.
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.

...to thy crone.
to Antigonus
Forever
Unvenerable be thy hands if thou
Tak’st up the Princess by that forced baseness
Which he has put upon ’t.

...dreads his wife.
So I would you did. Then ’twere past all doubt
You’d call your children yours.

...this good light.
Nor I, nor any
But one that’s here, and that’s himself. For he
The sacred honor 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.

...to the fire.
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 mold 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 colors
No yellow in ’t, lest she suspect, as he does,
Her children not her husband’s.

...take her hence.
A most unworthy and unnatural lord
Can do no more.

...ha’ thee burnt.
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 savors
Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you,
Yea, scandalous to the world.

...Away with her!
to Lords
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.
She exits.

ACT 3
Scene 2

...here in court.
Enter Hermione, as to her trial, Paulina, and Ladies.

...How now there?
This news is mortal to the Queen. Look down
And see what death is doing.

...remedies for life.
Paulina exits with Officers carrying Hermione.

...make the blacker!
Enter Paulina.
Woe the while!
O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
Break too!

...this, good lady?
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 betrayedst 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 honor,
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 honorable 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.

...higher powers forbid!
I say she’s dead. I’ll swear ’t. If word nor oath
Prevail not, go and see. If you can bring
Tincture or luster 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.

...of your speech.
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. 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.

...To these sorrows.
They exit.

ACT 5
Scene 1

...matter in it.
Enter Leontes, Cleomenes, Dion, Paulina, and Servants.

...hopes out of.
True, too true, my lord.
If one by one you wedded all the world,
Or from the all that are took something good
To make a perfect woman, she you killed
Would be unparalleled.

...Your kindness better.
You are one of those
Would have him wed again.

...fellow to ’t?
There is none worthy,
Respecting her that’s gone. Besides, the gods
Will have fulfilled their secret purposes.
For has not the divine Apollo said,
Is ’t not the tenor of his oracle,
That King Leontes shall not have an heir
Till his lost child be found? Which that it shall
Is all as monstrous to our human reason
As my Antigonus to break his grave
And come again to me—who, on my life,
Did perish with the infant. ’Tis your counsel
My lord should to the heavens be contrary,
Oppose against their wills. Care not for issue.
The crown will find an heir. Great Alexander
Left his to th’ worthiest; so his successor
Was like to be the best.

...from her lips—
And left them
More rich for what they yielded.

...“Why to me?”
Had she such power,
She had just cause.

...her I married.
I should so.
Were I the ghost that walked, I’d bid you mark
Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in ’t
You chose her. Then I’d shriek, that even your ears
Should rift to hear me, and the words that followed
Should be “Remember mine.”

...no wife, Paulina.
Will you swear
Never to marry but by my free leave?

...blest my spirit.
Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath.

...tempt him over-much.
Unless another
As like Hermione as is her picture
Affront his eye.

... Good madam—
I have done.
Yet if my lord will marry—if you will, sir,
No remedy but you will—give me the office
To choose you a queen. She shall not be so young
As was your former, but she shall be such
As, walked your first queen’s ghost, it should take joy
To see her in your arms.

...thou bid’st us.
That
Shall be when your first queen’s again in breath,
Never till then.

...shone bright on.
O Hermione,
As every present time doth boast itself
Above a better gone, so must thy grave
Give way to what’s seen now. To Servant.
Sir, you yourself
Have said and writ so—but your writing now
Is colder than that theme—she had not been
Nor was not to be equalled. Thus your verse
Flowed with her beauty once. ’Tis shrewdly ebbed
To say you have seen a better.

...but bid follow.
How, not women?

...steal upon us.
Had our prince,
Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had paired
Well with this lord. There was not full a month
Between their births.

...but a trifle.
Sir, my liege,
Your eye hath too much youth in ’t. Not a month
’Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes
Than what you look on now.

...good my lord.
They exit.

Scene 3

...thy good masters.
Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Florizell, Perdita, Camillo, Paulina, and Lords.

...had of thee!
What, sovereign sir,
I did not well, I meant well. All my services
You have paid home. But that you have vouchsafed,
With your crowned brother and these your contracted
Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit,
It is a surplus of your grace which never
My life may last to answer.

...of her mother.
As she lived peerless,
So her dead likeness, I do well believe,
Excels whatever yet you looked upon
Or hand of man hath done. Therefore I keep it
Lonely, apart. But here it is. Prepare
To see the life as lively mocked as ever
Still sleep mocked death. Behold, and say ’tis well. She draws a curtain to reveal Hermione (like a statue).
I like your silence. It the more shows off
Your wonder. But yet speak. First you, my liege.
Comes it not something near?

...not by much!
So much the more our carver’s excellence,
Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her
As she lived now.

...yours to kiss.
O, patience!
The statue is but newly fixed; the color’s
Not dry.

...up in himself.
Indeed, my lord,
If I had thought the sight of my poor image
Would thus have wrought you—for the stone is mine—
I’d not have showed it.

...draw the curtain.
No longer shall you gaze on ’t, lest your fancy
May think anon it moves.

...mocked with art.
I’ll draw the curtain.
My lord’s almost so far transported that
He’ll think anon it lives.

...Let ’t alone.
I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirred you, but
I could afflict you farther.

...will kiss her.
Good my lord, forbear.
The ruddiness upon her lip is wet.
You’ll mar it if you kiss it, stain your own
With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?

...by, a looker-on.
Either forbear,
Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you
For more amazement. If you can behold it,
I’ll make the statue move indeed, descend
And take you by the hand. But then you’ll think—
Which I protest against—I am assisted
By wicked powers.

...speak as move.
It is required
You do awake your faith. Then all stand still—
Or those that think it is unlawful business
I am about, let them depart.

...foot shall stir.
Music, awake her! Strike!

Music sounds.
’Tis time. Descend. Be stone no more. Approach.
Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come,
I’ll fill your grave up. Stir, nay, come away.
Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him
Dear life redeems you.—You perceive she stirs.

Hermione descends.
Start not. Her actions shall be holy as
You hear my spell is lawful. Do not shun her
Until you see her die again, for then
You kill her double. Nay, present your hand.
When she was young, you wooed her; now in age
Is she become the suitor?

...from the dead.
That she is living,
Were it but told you, should be hooted at
Like an old tale, but it appears she lives,
Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while.
To Perdita.
Please you to interpose, fair madam. Kneel
And pray your mother’s blessing. To Hermione.
Turn, good lady.
Our Perdita is found.

...see the issue.
There’s time enough for that,
Lest they desire upon this push to trouble
Your joys with like relation. Go together,
You precious winners all. Your exultation
Partake to everyone. I, an old turtle,
Will wing me to some withered bough and there
My mate, that’s never to be found again,
Lament till I am lost.

...Hastily lead away.
They exit.