And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest
Unclasp'd my practice; quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great; and to the hazard 16
Of all incertainties himself commended 17,
No richer than his honour.-How he glisters
Thorough my rust 18! and how his piety
Does my deeds make the blacker 19!

Paul.

Re-enter PAULINA.

Woe the while!

O, cut my lace; lest my heart, cracking it,
Break too!

1 Lord. What fit is this, good lady?

Paul. 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 by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. That thou betray'dst Polixenes, 'twas nothing; That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant 20,

16 The second folio reads "certain hazard."

17 To commend is to commit; he committed himself to the hazard of uncertainties.

18 The second folio, "Through my dark rust," on account of the metre, but through was often pronounced thorough, and frequently so spelled.

19 This vehement retractation of Leontes, accompanied with the confession of more crimes than he was suspected of, is agreeable to our daily experience of the vicissitudes of violent tempers, and the eruptions of minds oppressed with guilt.

20 That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant. Theobald proposed to read :

"That did but show thee of a soul inconstant."

The old reading has been defended by Johnson, and by Steevens,

And damnable 21 ungrateful: nor was't much,

Thou would'st have poison'd good Camillo's honour 22,
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 23:
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
Blemish'd 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 sweetest, dearest creature's dead; and vengeance

for't

Not dropp'd down yet.

1 Lord.

The higher powers forbid ! Paul. 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

who remarks that the same construction occurs in the second book of Phaer's version of the Eneid :

"When this the young men heard me speak, of wild they

waxed wood."

66

Coleridge also defends the old reading, and explains it: Show thee, being a fool naturally, to have improved thy folly by inconstancy."

21 Damnable is used here adverbially. So in All's Well that Ends Well:-" "Tis not meant damnable in us."

22 The poet forgot that Paulina was absent during the king's self-accusation.

23 i. e. would have wept though in hell.

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.

Leon.
Go on, go on:
Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserv'd
All tongues to talk their bitterest.

1 Lord.

Say no more; Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault I'the boldness of your speech.

Paul.

I am sorry for❜t; All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, I do repent: Alas, I have show'd too much

The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd

To the noble heart.-What's gone, and what's past

help,

Should be past grief: Do not receive affliction
At my petition 24,
24, I beseech you; rather
Let me be punish'd, 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.

Leon.

When most the truth;

Thou didst speak but well,

which I receive much better Than to be pitied of thee. Pr'ythee, 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

24 Thus the old copies, but we should possibly read" at my

relation."

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.
To these sorrows.

Come, and lead me

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Bohemia. A desert Country near the Sea.

Enter ANTIGONUS, with the Babe; and a Mariner. Ant. Thou art perfect1 then, our ship hath touch'd

upon

The deserts of Bohemia?

Mar.

Ay, my lord; and fear We have landed in ill time: the skies look grimly, And threaten present blusters. In my conscience, The heavens with that we have in hand are angry,

And frown upon's.

Ant. Their sacred wills be done!-Go, get aboard; Look to thy bark; I'll not be long, before

I call upon thee.

best haste; your

and go not

Mar. Make
Too far i'the land: 'tis like to be loud weather;

Besides, this place is famous for the creatures

Of prey, that keep upon't.

Come, poor babe:

To be so rid o'the business.

Ant.

I have heard, (but not believ'd), the spirits of the dead
May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother
Appear'd to me last night; for ne'er was dream
So like a waking. To me comes a creature,
Sometimes her head on one side, some another;
Perfect, i. e. well assured.

I never saw a vessel of like sorrow,

So fill'd, and so becoming2: in pure white robes,
Like very sanctity, she did approach

My cabin where I lay thrice bow'd before me;
And, gasping to begin some speech, her eyes
Became two spouts: the fury spent, anon
Did this break from her: Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against thy better disposition,
Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,—
Places remote enough are in Bohemia,

There weep3, and leave it crying; and, for the babe
Is counted lost for ever, Perdita,

I pr'ythee, call't; for this ungentle business,
Put on thee by my lord, thou ne'er shalt see
Thy wife Paulina more: and so, with shrieks,
She melted into air. Affrighted much,
I did in time collect myself; and thought
This was so, and no slumber. Dreams are toys:
Yet, for this once, yea, superstitiously,

I will be squar'd by this. I do believe
Hermione hath suffer'd death: and that
Apollo would, this being indeed the issue
Of king Polixenes, it should here be laid,
Either for life, or death, upon the earth
Of its right father.-Blossom, speed thee well!
[Laying down the Child.
There lie; and there thy character*: there these ;
[Laying down a Bundle.

Which may, if fortune please, both breed thee, pretty,

2 It has been proposed to substitute o'er-running for becoming, which would spoil an image of rare beauty. Antigonus describes an expression which only the greatest masters have realized in art: grief the most poignant rather enhancing the beauty of a countenance than deforming it.

3 Thus the old copy.

stitutes wend.

The corrector of Mr. Collier's folio sub

4 Thy character, i. e. description. The writing afterward discovered with Perdita.