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, 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.

Leo. Out!

[Laying down the child

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

Paul. 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.

Leo. Traitors!

Will you not push her out? Give her the bastard :— Thou, dotard, [To ANTIGONUS.] thou art woman-tir'd,' unroosted

By thy dame Partlet here,-take up the bastard;

Take't up, I say; give't to thy crone.'

Paul. For ever

Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou

Take'st 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 nest of traitors!

Ant. I am none, by this good light.

Paul. Nor I; nor any,

But one, that's here; and that's himself: for he

The sacred honour of himself, his queen's,

[8] A mankind woman is yet used in the midland counties, for a woman violent, ferocious, and mischievous. It has the same sense in this passage.

Witches are supposed to be mankind, to put off the softness and delicacy of women; therefore Sir Hugh, in The Merry Wives of Windsor, says of a woman sus pected to be a witch, "that he does not like when a woman has a beard." JOHNSON

[9] Woman-tir'd, is peck'd by a woman; hen-peck'd. The phrase is taken from falconry, and is often employed by writers contemporary with Shakespeare.

STEEVENS.

[1] i. e. thy old worn-out woman. A croan is an old toothless sheep; thence an old woman. STEEVENS.

[2] Leontes had ordered Antigonus to take up the bastard; Paulina forbids him to touch the Princess under that appellation. Forced is false, uttered with violence to truth JOHNSON

at

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 compell'd to't,) once remove
The root of his opinion, which is rotten,
As ever oak, or stone, was sound.

Leo. A callat,

Of boundless tongue; who late hath beat her husband,
And now bates 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.

Paul. 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 his 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;3 lest she suspect, as he does,
Her children not her husband's !*

Leo. A gross hag!—

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

That wilt not stay her tongue.

Ant. Hang all the husbands,

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

Leo. Once more, take her hence.

Paul. A most unworthy and unnatural lord

Can do no more.

Leo. I'll have thee burn'd.

[3] Yellow is the colour of jealousy. JOHNSON.

[4] In the ardour of composition Shakespeare seems here to have forgotten the difference of sexes. Unless she were herself "a bed-swerver," (which is not supposed,) she could have no doubt of his being the father of her children. However painful female jealousy may be to her that feels it, Paulina, therefore, certainly attributes to it in the present instance, a pang that it can never give.

MALONE.

I regard this circumstance as a beauty, rather than a defect. The seeming absurdity in the last clause of Paulina's ardent address to Nature, was undoubtedly designed, being an extravagance characteristically preferable to languid correctness and chastised declamation. STEEVENS.

[5] This is a term of contempt frequently used by Spenser. STEEVENS,

Paul. I care not:

It is an heretick, 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-hing'd fancy,) something savours
Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you,
Yea, scandalous to the world.

Leo. 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.

Paul. I pray you, do not push me; I'll be gone.
-Look to your babe, my lord; 'tis your's: Jove send her
A better guiding spirit !-What need 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.

Leo. 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 consum'd with fire ;

[Exit.

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 sett'st on thy wife.

Ant. I did not, sir:

These lords, my noble fellows, if they please,
Can clear me in't.

1 Lord. We can ; my royal liege,

He is not guilty of her coming hither.
Leo. You are liars all.

1 Lord. 'Beseech your highness, give us better credit; We have always truly serv'd 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.

Leo. 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.-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,

[TO ANT.

So sure as this beard's grey,—what will you adventure To save this brat's life?

Ant. Any thing, 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: any thing possible.

Leo. It shall be possible: Swear by this sword," Thou wilt perform my bidding.

Ant. I will, my lord.

Leo. 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-tongu'd 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 its 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.

Ant. 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

[6] The King must mean the beard of Antigonus, which perhaps both here and on the former occasion, (See p. 192, n. 2,) it was intended, he should lay hold of. Leontes has himself told us that twenty-three years ago he was unbreech'd, in his green velvet coat, his dagger muzzled; and of course his age at the opening of this play must be under thirty. He cannot therefore mean his own beard.

MALONE.

[7] It was anciently the custom to swear by the cross that was on the handle of a sword. STEEVENS.

I remember to have seen the name of Jesus engraved upon the pummel of the sword of a Crusader in the Church at Winchelsea. DOUCE.

Like offices of pity.-Sir, be prosperous

In more than this deed doth require! and blessing,
Against this cruelty, fight on thy side.
Poor thing, condemn'd to loss!
Leo. No, I'll not rear

Another's issue,

[Exit with the child.

1 Atten. Please your highness, posts,

From those you sent to the oracle, are come
An hour since: Cleomenes and Dion,

Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed,
Hasting to th' court.

1 Lord. So please you, sir, their speed

Hath been beyond account.

Leo. Twenty-three days

They have been absent: 'Tis good speed; foretels,
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 accus'd, so shall she have
A just and open trial. While she lives,
My heart will be a burden to me.
And think upon my bidding.

ACT III.

Leave me ;

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-The same. A Street in some Town. 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' offering!

Cleo. But, of all, the burst

And the ear-deafening voice o' th' oracle,

Kin to Jove's thunder, so surpris'd my sense,

That I was nothing.