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,
whom I am accused, I do confess
I loved him as in honour he required,
With such a kind of love as might
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,
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
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
Your actions are my dreams;
You had a bastard by Polixenes,
And I but dream'd it. As you were past all
Those of your fact are soso past all truth:
Which to deny concerns more than avails; for as
hath been cast out, like to itself,
No father owning it, which is, indeed,
More criminal in thee than it, so
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:
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
And first-fruits of my body, from his presence
I am barr'd, like one infectious. My third comfort
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
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.
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
Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else
But what your jealousies awake, I tell you
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
Copyright: All texts on Bibliomania are © Bibliomania.com Ltd,
and may not be reproduced in any form without our written permission.
See our FAQ for more details.