The Winter's Tale eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 141 pages of information about The Winter's Tale.

Leontes. 
                                      How!—­
Away with that audacious lady!—­Antigonus,
I charg’d thee that she should not come about me: 
I knew she would.

Antigonus. 
                  I told her so, my lord,
On your displeasure’s peril, and on mine,
She should not visit you.

Leontes. 
                          What, canst not rule her?

Paulina. 
From all dishonesty he can:  in this,—­
Unless he take the course that you have done,
Commit me for committing honour,—­trust it,
He shall not rule me.

Antigonus. 
                      La you now, you hear
When she will take the rein, I let her run;
But she’ll not stumble.

Paulina. 
                        Good my liege, I come,—­
And, I beseech you, hear me, who professes
Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
Your most obedient counsellor:  yet that dares
Less appear so, in comforting your evils,
Than such as most seem yours:—­I say I come
From your good queen.

Leontes. 
                      Good queen!

Paulina. 
                                  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.

Leontes. 
                            Force her hence!

Paulina. 
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.

[Laying down the child.]

Leontes. 
                                         Out! 
A mankind witch!  Hence with her, out o’ door: 
A most intelligencing bawd!

Paulina. 
                            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.

Leontes. 
                                        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.

Paulina. 
                                       For ever
Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou
Tak’st up the princess by that forced baseness
Which he has put upon’t!

Leontes. 
                         He dreads his wife.

Paulina. 
So I would you did; then ’twere past all doubt
You’d call your children yours.

Leontes. 
                                A nest of traitors?

Antigonus. 
I am none, by this good light.

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
The Winter's Tale from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.