A court of Justice.
Enter LEONTES, Lords, and Officers
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 clear'd
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.
It is his highness' pleasure that the queen
Appear in person here in court. Silence!
Enter HERMIONE guarded; PAULINA and Ladies attending
Read the indictment.
[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.
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 play'd 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 strain'd to appear thus: if one jot beyond
The bound of honour, or in act or will
That way inclining, harden'd be the hearts
Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin
Cry fie upon my grave!
I ne'er heard yet
That any of these bolder vices wanted
Less impudence to gainsay what they did
Than to perform it first.
That's true enough;
Through 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me.
You will not own it.
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 dish'd
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.
You knew of his departure, as you know
What you have underta'en to do in's absence.
You speak a language that I understand not:
My life stands in the level of your dreams,
Which I'll lay down.
Your actions are my dreams;
You had a bastard by Polixenes,
And I but dream'd 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.
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 barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort
Starr'd most unluckily, is from my breast,
The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth,
Haled out to murder: myself on every post
Proclaimed a strumpet: with immodest hatred
The child-bed privilege denied, which 'longs
To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried
Here to this place, i' the 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 condemn'd
Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else
But what your jealousies awake, I tell you
'Tis rigor and not law. Your honours all,
I do refer me to the oracle:
Apollo be my judge!
This your request
Is altogether just: therefore bring forth,
And in Apollos name, his oracle.
Exeunt certain Officers
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!
Re-enter Officers, with CLEOMENES and DION
You here shall swear upon this sword of justice,
That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have
Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought
The seal'd-up oracle, by the hand deliver'd
Of great Apollo's priest; and that, since then,
You have not dared to break the holy seal
Nor read the secrets in't.
All this we swear.
Break up the seals and read.
[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.
Now blessed be the great Apollo!
Hast thou read truth?
Ay, my lord; even so
As it is here set down.
There is no truth at all i' the oracle:
The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood.
My lord the king, the king!
What is the business?
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.
Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves
Do strike at my injustice.
How now there!
This news is mortal to the queen: look down
And see what death is doing.
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, with HERMIONE
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 't and being done: he, most humane
And fill'd with honour, to my kingly guest
Unclasp'd my practise, quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great, and to the hazard
Of all encertainties himself commended,
No richer than his honour: how he glisters
Thorough my rust! and how his pity
Does my deeds make the blacker!
Woe the while!
O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
What fit is this, good lady?
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
And damnable ingrateful: nor was't much,
Thou wouldst have poison'd 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
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 sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead,
and vengeance for't
Not dropp'd down yet.
The 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 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.
Go on, go on
Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved
All tongues to talk their bitterest.
Say no more:
Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault
I' the boldness 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 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; 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.
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
Unto these sorrows.
In the palace the preparations for Hermione's trial were complete and everyone was ushered into a ceremonial chamber. The atmosphere was strange and curious. The dignitaries and officials of Sicily were visibly nervous as the final preparations for this unprecedented trial were conducted before them. An official called for silence. King Leontes stood to address the court.
"This trial, to my great grief we open. Striking at my heart, the accused is the daughter of a king, my wife, and one of us too much loved. Let me be cleared of tyranny, since I publicly seek justice, which shall have its course to guilt or acquittal. Bring in the prisoner."
A court official called to the other room where Hermione was held.
"It is His Highness' pleasure that the Queen appear in person here in court."
Due to Leontes’ paranoia Hermione was brought in under heavy guard. She was accompanied by Paulina, Emilia and other ladies-in-waiting. The spectators fidgeted and muttered under their breaths.
"Silence!" the court clerk yelled.
"Read the indictment," Leontes said.
A court official unfurled a scroll and addressed the court.
"Hermione, Queen to the worthy Leontes, King of Sicily, you are here accused and arraigned of high treason for committing adultery with Polixenes, King of Bohemia, and conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord the King, your royal husband. The aim whereof being by circumstances partly laid open, you, Hermione, contrary to the faith and allegiance of a true subject, did counsel and aid them, for their own safety, to flee by night."
The court gasped at every stage as the indictment was read.
"Since what I am about to say,” Hermione began, ”must be that which contradicts the accusations, and the testimony on my part and no other comes from myself, it will hardly do me any good to say, Not guilty. My integrity, being questioned, shall reveal itself in what I have to say. But if divine powers watch over our human actions, as I believe they do, do not doubt then that innocence shall make false accusation blush and tyranny tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know, even though you act otherwise, my past life has been as virtuous, as chaste, as true, as I am now unhappy, which is even more profound than anything found in a story or play performed for an audience to understand and articulate. Look at me, the royal partner, who owns a part of the throne, a great king's daughter, the mother to a hopeful prince, forced to stand here and beg for life and honour before whoever cares to watch. My life I now value as much as my grief, which is something I will happily forsake, but honour is something bequeathed to me, and I will bequeath it to my children. It is only for that, that I stand here. I appeal to your own conscience, Leontes. Before Polixenes came to your court, I was in your favour because I merited being so. After his arrival, when was the encounter so debased that it has led me here today? If one iota beyond the bounds of honour, in act or in intention, have I strayed then hardened be the hearts of all who hear me, and my nearest of kin can cry insults upon my grave!"
"I have yet to hear of any bold vice that wasn’t enthusiastically performed first and vigorously denied later," Leontes retorted.
"That's true enough, though it is not something applicable to me."
"So you say!"
“I cannot confess to anything other than being a friend to Polixenes, with whom I am accused. I do confess I loved him in the honour he deserved, with such a kind of love as might become a lady like me, with a love such as you and no other commanded. Not to have done so would have been both disobedient and ungrateful to you and your friend, of whose love you have spoken since childhood. Now, for conspiracy. I know not how it tastes, though it is being served up for me to try. All I know of it is that Camillo was an honest man and why he left your court, the gods themselves, if they know no more than I, are ignorant."
"You knew of his departure, as you know how to complete your part of the plot in his absence."
"Sir, you speak a language that I don't understand. My life as you see it exists only in your dreams. And that life I will lay down."
"Dreams! Your actions are my nightmares. You had a bastard by Polixenes, and I only imagined it! As you are past all shame- guilty- don't prolong this with feeble denials. The brat has been cast out, to fend for itself, no father owning it- which is, indeed, more criminal in you than in the infant. So you shall feel our justice, even at its most lenient expect nothing less than death."
"Sir, spare your threats, the fate with which you want frighten me I longingly seek. To me life can have no pleasure. The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, I have lost, but know not how it happened. My second joy and first-born is denied me, as though I am contagious. My third comfort, born under a malevolent star, has been dragged from my breast- the innocent milk in its most innocent mouth- and sent for slaughter. I am proclaimed a harlot on every available post. The right to convalesce from a hard pregnancy is denied me. Finally, hurried to this place I face a trial before I’m fit and able. Tell me what blessings I have in life that to die is so terrible? Therefore proceed. But hear this. Life is worth nothing, but my honour must be unblemished. If I shall be condemned on surmises, since no evidence exists other than what your jealously creates. I tell you this is tyranny, not law. Your honoured lords, I place my faith in the oracle. Apollo is my judge!"
"Your request is just," said one of the lords of the court. "Bring forth Apollo's judgement."
There was a brief pause as officials left to escort Cleomenes and Dion to the trial with the pronouncements from the oracle. Hermione, though, continued her testimony.
"The Emperor of Russia was my father, oh, that he was alive, and here witnessing his daughter's trial! He would see the depth of my misery, yet with eyes of pity, not revenge!"
Leontes looked at Hermione with contempt and smiled with delight when Cleomenes and Dion entered the court, led by an officer, with the sealed judgments.
"You here shall swear upon this sword of justice that you, Cleomenes and Dion, have both been at Delphos, and from there have brought the sealed oracle, delivered by hand by a great priest of Apollo. And that since then you have not dared to break the holy seal nor read the secrets contained therein."
"All this we swear," Cleomenes and Dion said.
"Break the seals and read," Leontes ordered.
The court was breathless and anxious as the court officer removed the various layers of sealing wax protecting the document. The officer finally got to the judgement and cleared his throat before speaking.
"Hermione is chaste. Polixenes is blameless. Camillo is a true subject. Leontes is a jealous tyrant. His innocent daughter truly begotten, and the King shall live without an heir if the abandoned child is not found."
The court erupted spontaneously into cheers and laughter.
"Now blessed be the great Apollo!" several lords shouted.
"Praised!" Hermione laughed.
Leontes was enraged and he immediately silenced the court when he barked at the court officer: "Have you read what is written?"
"Yes, my lord. Exactly as it is set down here."
Leontes was suddenly very calm and although he began to whisper, the court was so quiet everyone caught what he said: "There is no truth in the oracle. The trial shall proceed. Lies, lies."
Just as he had spoken a servant from the domestic quarters rushed into the court.
"My lord the King! King Leontes!"
"What is the matter?"
The servant paused anxiously.
"Oh, sir, I shall be hated to report it! Prince Mamillius, just thinking about his mother's fate, is gone."
The court gasped and Leontes was consumed in a torment.
"Apollo is angry and the heavens themselves strike at my injustice."
"What's happening?" Leontes pleaded.
"This news is fatal to the Queen!" Paulina sobbed. "Look, see what death is doing."
"Take her out!" Leontes shouted. "Her heart is just excited- she will recover. I have believed my own suspicions far too much. Please, tenderly apply to her some remedies for life."
Paulina and the ladies rushed from the court as several men carried Hermione out. Leontes felt completely alone.
"Apollo, pardon my great profanities against your oracle!" Leontes begged. "I'll reconcile myself to Polixenes, and begin again my courtship of Hermione and recall the good Camillo, whom I proclaim a man of truth and mercy. Transported by my jealousies to bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose Camillo to be the one to poison my friend Polixenes. An order that would have been fulfilled if that good mind of Camillo had not delayed my swift command, even though I threatened him with death and encouraged him with rewards. He, most humane and filled with honour, revealed my plot to my kingly guest and abandoned his home and fortunes here, which you know are considerable, and opted to hazard all the uncertainties of a new life in Bohemia- with nothing other than his honour. How he glistens thorough my rust! And how his piety makes my deeds even blacker!"
Paulina crept silently into the courtroom. She heard the last of Leontes' pleas for forgiveness.
"Woe the while! Oh, cut my tight bodice, lest my heart, cracking in it break too."
"What is wrong, good lady?" a lord returning to Leontes asked Paulina.
"Tyrant, what tortures have you perfected for me? What wheels? Racks? Fires? What skinning? Boiling in lead or in oil? What old or new torture must I receive? Your tyranny and your jealousy, fancies too infantile for children, have wreaked havoc here. Think what they have done and then run mad indeed- stark mad! All your old fooleries were just a foretaste of this! You betrayed Polixenes that was nothing but showed you to be a fool, unpredictable and ungrateful. You would have poisoned good Camillo's honour, expecting him to kill a king. Minor sins compared with what was to come. Of which, I think, casting off your infant daughter to crows ranks very highly. A devil would have shed a tear in hell rather than do that. Although the death of a young prince- a child whose thoughts were so tender for one of that age- is not directly laid at your door, you began the slurs on his mother that killed him. Oh, lords, woes! The Queen, Hermione, sweet dear creature is dead. And vengeance for that is still to visit us."
"The higher powers forbid!" a lord implored.
"I say she is dead. I'll swear it. If neither word nor oath will satisfy you, go and see. If you can bring colour to lips, or sparkle to her eyes, heat her hands or hear her breathe, I'll serve you as I would the gods. But, oh, you, tyrant do not repent these things, for they are worse than any lamentation can cure. Despair, despair! A thousand praying together for ten thousand years, naked and fasting upon a barren mountain through perpetual winter storms could not move the gods to look in your direction."
"Go on, go on, you cannot speak too much. I deserve all tongues at their bitterest," Leontes said.
"Say no more, Paulina,” a lord said. “However the business goes, you are at fault in the boldness of your speech."
"I am sorry for it. All the faults I make, when I shall come to know them, I do repent. Alas, I have shown too much of the rashness of a woman. He is touched to the noble heart. What's gone and what's past help should be past grief. Leontes, do not receive yet more afflictions at my petition. I beg you, rather let me be punished, I who have reminded you of what you should forget. Now, sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman. The love I bore your Queen- ah, fool again! - I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children. I'll not remind you of my own lord, who is lost too. Make your sorrow your own, and I'll say nothing."
"You spoke well and it was the truth, which is preferable to pity. Please, take me to the dead bodies of my Queen and my son. One grave shall be for both, and upon it shall be inscribed the causes of their death for all to see, unto my perpetual shame. Once a day I'll visit the chapel where they lie, and crying there shall be my recreation. So long as I am fit enough to do this then I vow I will. Come and lead me to these sorrows."