Take the boy to you: he so troubles me,
’Tis past enduring.
Take the boy to you: he so troubles me, ’Tis past enduring.
Take the boy to you: he so troubles me, ’Tis past enduring.
take the boy to you he so troubles me ’tis past enduring
The First Lady speaks in the breezy register of court small talk — teasing Mamillius about his mother's pregnancy with the easy familiarity of someone who has served the queen for years. Watch for how her warmth in this opening scene throws the cold violence of the arrest into starker relief.
Come, my gracious lord,
Shall I be your playfellow?
Come, my gracious lord, Shall I be your playfellow?
Come, my gracious lord, Shall I be your playfellow?
my gracious lord shall i be your playfellow?
No, I’ll none of you.
No, I’ll none of you.
No, I’ll none of you.
i’ll none of you
Why, my sweet lord?
Why, my sweet lord?
Why, my sweet lord?
my sweet lord?
You’ll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if
I were a baby still. I love you better.
You’ll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if I were a baby still. I love you better.
You’ll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if I were a baby still. I love you better.
you’ll kiss me hard and speak to me as if i were a baby still i love you better
The Second Lady is the straight half of a comedy duo with the First Lady, her comments just a beat behind. Watch for how she and the First Lady create the texture of normal courtly life that Leontes will destroy.
And why so, my lord?
And why so, my lord?
And why so, my lord?
and why so my lord?
Not for because
Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say,
Become some women best, so that there be not
Too much hair there, but in a semicircle
Or a half-moon made with a pen.
Not for because Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say, Become some women best, so that there be not Too much hair there, but in a semicircle Or a half-moon made with a pen.
Not for because Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say, Become some women best, so that there be not Too much hair there, but in a semicircle Or a half-moon made with a pen.
not for because your brows are blacker yet black brows they say become some women best
Who taught this?
Who taught this?
Who taught this?
who taught this?
I learn’d it out of women’s faces. Pray now,
What colour are your eyebrows?
I learn’d it out of women’s faces. Pray now, What colour are your eyebrows?
I learn’d it out of women’s faces. Pray now, What colour are your eyebrows?
i learn’d it out of women’s faces pray now what colour are your eyebrows?
Blue, my lord.
Blue, my lord.
Blue, my lord.
my lord
Nay, that’s a mock. I have seen a lady’s nose
That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.
no, that’s a mock. I have seen a lady’s nose That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.
no, that’s a mock. I have seen a lady’s nose That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.
that’s a mock i have seen a lady’s nose that has been blue but not her eyebrows
Mamillius begins to tell his tale — 'there was a man dwelt by a churchyard' — and is never allowed to finish it. Shakespeare cuts him off mid-sentence with the entrance of Leontes and never returns to it. This is not an accident. The boy with a tale about sprites and ghosts near a churchyard is himself going to become a ghost story — a life cut short, mourned by everyone who encounters him. The title of the play, in effect, comes from a child whose story ends before it begins. Scholars have noted that Mamillius's unfinished narrative mirrors the play's own structure: the first half is a dead-end winter story, and only in the second half, sixteen years later, do we get resolution. The story Mamillius was telling may never be told — but the play we're watching is the ghost story he meant to tell: a man who dwelt by a churchyard, where his own son is eventually buried.
Hark ye,
The queen your mother rounds apace. We shall
Present our services to a fine new prince
One of these days, and then you’d wanton with us,
If we would have you.
Hark ye, The queen your mother rounds apace. We shall Present our services to a fine new prince One of these days, and then you’d wanton with us, If we would have you.
Hark ye, The queen your mother rounds apace. We shall Present our services to a fine new prince One of these days, and then you’d wanton with us, If we would have you.
hark ye the queen your mother rounds apace we shall present our services to a fine and then you’d wanton with us
She is spread of late
Into a goodly bulk: good time encounter her!
She is spread of late Into a goodly bulk: good time encounter her!
She is spread of late Into a goodly bulk: good time encounter her!
she is spread of late into a goodly bulk good time encounter her!
What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now
I am for you again. Pray you sit by us,
And tell ’s a tale.
What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now I am for you again. Pray you sit by us, And tell ’s a tale.
What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now I'm for you again. Pray you sit by us, And tell ’s a tale.
what wisdom stirs amongst you? come now i am for you again pray you sit by us
Merry or sad shall’t be?
Merry or sad shall’t be?
Merry or sad shall’t be?
merry or sad shall’t be?
As merry as you will.
As merry as you will.
As merry as you will.
as merry as you will
A sad tale’s best for winter. I have one
Of sprites and goblins.
A sad tale’s best for winter. I have one Of sprites and goblins.
A sad tale’s best for winter. I have one Of sprites and goblins.
a sad tale’s best for winter i have one of sprites and goblins
Let’s have that, good sir.
Come on, sit down. Come on, and do your best
To fright me with your sprites: you’re powerful at it.
Let’s have that, good sir. Come on, sit down. Come on, and do your best To fright me with your sprites: you’re powerful at it.
Let’s have that, good sir. Come on, sit down. Come on, and do your best To fright me with your sprites: you’re powerful at it.
let’s have that good sir come on sit down
There was a man,—
There was a man,—
There was a man,—
there was a man
Nay, come, sit down, then on.
no, come, sit down, then on.
no, come, sit down, then on.
sit down then on
Dwelt by a churchyard. I will tell it softly,
Yond crickets shall not hear it.
Dwelt by a churchyard. I will tell it softly, Yond crickets shall not hear it.
Dwelt by a churchyard. I will tell it softly, Yond crickets shall not hear it.
dwelt by a churchyard i will tell it softly yond crickets shall not hear it
Come on then,
And give’t me in mine ear.
Come on then, And give’t me in mine ear.
Come on then, And give’t me in mine ear.
come on then and give’t me in mine ear
When falsely accused, most of us imagine we'd be outraged, weeping, perhaps screaming. Hermione does none of this. Her response to public disgrace is studied composure: she doesn't cry (and explicitly notes the lack of tears), she asks to be judged fairly, she converts her walk to prison into an act of moral agency. This isn't coldness — it's strategy. In a court where the king has made his verdict in advance, hysteria would only confirm suspicion. Dignity says: I have nothing to fear from scrutiny. 'This action I now go on / Is for my better grace' — she turns imprisonment into a spiritual exercise. The tragedy is that Hermione's composure is used against her: Leontes, unhinged, reads her calm as further proof of wickedness. A guilty woman would throw herself on his mercy; her refusal to do so proves, to him, she has none to ask for. Shakespeare uses Hermione's dignity to expose the total closure of Leontes's reasoning: there is no possible behavior that would count as evidence of innocence.
Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?
Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?
Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?
was he met there? his train? camillo with him?
The First Lord speaks in the measured language of a courtier trying to thread an impossible needle — defending what he knows to be right without triggering the king's wrath. Watch for how he escalates from gentle suggestion to outright defiance as Leontes's cruelty becomes undeniable.
Behind the tuft of pines I met them, never
Saw I men scour so on their way: I ey’d them
Even to their ships.
Behind the tuft of pines I met them, never Saw I men scour so on their way: I ey’d them Even to their ships.
Behind the tuft of pines I met them, never Saw I men scour so on their way: I ey’d them Even to their ships.
behind the tuft of pines i met them never saw i men scour so on their way i ey’d them even to their ships
How blest am I
In my just censure, in my true opinion!
Alack, for lesser knowledge! How accurs’d
In being so blest! There may be in the cup
A spider steep’d, and one may drink, depart,
And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge
Is not infected; but if one present
Th’ abhorr’d ingredient to his eye, make known
How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider.
Camillo was his help in this, his pander.
There is a plot against my life, my crown;
All’s true that is mistrusted. That false villain
Whom I employ’d, was pre-employ’d by him.
He has discover’d my design, and I
Remain a pinch’d thing; yea, a very trick
For them to play at will. How came the posterns
So easily open?
How blest am I In my just censure, in my true opinion! Alack, for lesser knowledge! How accurs’d In being so blest! There may be in the cup A spider steep’d, and one may drink, depart, And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge Is not infected; but if one present Th’ abhorr’d ingredient to his eye, make known How he has drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides, With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider. Camillo was his help in this, his pander. There is a plot against my life, my crown; All’s true that is mistrusted. That false villain Whom I employ’d, was pre-employ’d by him. He has discover’d my design, and I Remain a pinch’d thing; yea, a very trick For them to play at will. How came the posterns So easily open?
How blest am I In my just censure, in my true opinion! Alack, for lesser knowledge! How accurs’d In being so blest! There may be in the cup A spider steep’d, and one may drink, depart, And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge Is not infected; but if one present Th’ abhorr’d ingredient to his eye, make known How he has drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides, With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider. Camillo was his help in this, his pander. There is a plot against my life, my crown; All’s true that's mistrusted. That false villain Whom I employ’d, was pre-employ’d by him. He has discover’d my design, and I Remain a pinch’d thing; yea, a very trick For them to play at will. How came the posterns So easily open?
how blest am i in my just censure in my true opinion! alack for lesser knowledge! how accurs’d in being so and one may drink
By his great authority,
Which often hath no less prevail’d than so
On your command.
By his great authority, Which often has no less prevail’d than so On your command.
By his great authority, Which often has no less prevail’d than so On your command.
by his great authority which often has no less prevail’d than so
I know’t too well.
Give me the boy. I am glad you did not nurse him.
Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you
Have too much blood in him.
I know’t too well. Give me the boy. I am glad you did not nurse him. Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you Have too much blood in him.
I know’t too well. Give me the boy. I'm glad you didn't nurse him. Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you Have too much blood in him.
i know’t too well give me the boy i am glad you did not nurse him though he does bear some signs of me
What is this? sport?
What is this? sport?
What is this? sport?
what is this? sport?
Bear the boy hence, he shall not come about her,
Away with him, and let her sport herself
With that she’s big with; for ’tis Polixenes
Has made thee swell thus.
Bear the boy hence, he shall not come about her, Away with him, and let her sport herself With that she’s big with; for ’tis Polixenes Has made you swell thus.
Bear the boy hence, he shall not come about her, Away with him, and let her sport herself With that she’s big with; for ’tis Polixenes Has made you swell thus.
bear the boy hence he shall not come about her away with him and let her sport herself with that she’s big with
But I’d say he had not,
And I’ll be sworn you would believe my saying,
Howe’er you learn th’ nayward.
But I’d say he had not, And I’ll be sworn you would believe my saying, Howe’er you learn th’ nayward.
But I’d say he had not, And I’ll be sworn you would believe my saying, Howe’er you learn th’ nayward.
but i’d say he had not and i’ll be sworn you would believe my saying howe’er you learn th’ nayward
You, my lords,
Look on her, mark her well. Be but about
To say, “she is a goodly lady,” and
The justice of your hearts will thereto add
“’Tis pity she’s not honest, honourable”:
Praise her but for this her without-door form,
Which on my faith deserves high speech, and straight
The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands
That calumny doth use—O, I am out,
That mercy does; for calumny will sear
Virtue itself—these shrugs, these hum’s, and ha’s,
When you have said “she’s goodly,” come between,
Ere you can say “she’s honest”: but be it known,
From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,
She’s an adultress!
You, my lords, Look on her, mark her well. Be but about To say, “she is a goodly lady,” and The justice of your hearts will thereto add “’Tis pity she’s not honest, honourable”: Praise her but for this her without-door form, Which on my faith deserves high speech, and straight The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands That calumny does use—O, I am out, That mercy does; for calumny will sear Virtue itself—these shrugs, these hum’s, and ha’s, When you have said “she’s goodly,” come between, before you can say “she’s honest”: but be it known, From him that has most cause to grieve it should be, She’s an adultress!
You, my lords, Look on her, mark her well. Be but about To say, “she is a goodly lady,” and The justice of your hearts will thereto add “’Tis pity she’s not honest, honourable”: Praise her but for this her without-door form, Which on my faith deserves high speech, and straight The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands That calumny does use—O, I'm out, That mercy does; for calumny will sear Virtue itself—these shrugs, these hum’s, and ha’s, When you have said “she’s goodly,” come between, before you can say “she’s honest”: but be it known, From him that has most cause to grieve it should be, She’s an adultress!
my lords look on her mark her well
Should a villain say so,
The most replenish’d villain in the world,
He were as much more villain: you, my lord,
Do but mistake.
Should a villain say so, The most replenish’d villain in the world, He were as much more villain: you, my lord, Do but mistake.
Should a villain say so, The most replenish’d villain in the world, He were as much more villain: you, my lord, Do but mistake.
should a villain say so the most replenish’d villain in the world he were as much more villain
You have mistook, my lady,
Polixenes for Leontes. O thou thing,
Which I’ll not call a creature of thy place,
Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,
Should a like language use to all degrees,
And mannerly distinguishment leave out
Betwixt the prince and beggar. I have said
She’s an adultress; I have said with whom:
More, she’s a traitor, and Camillo is
A federary with her; and one that knows
What she should shame to know herself
But with her most vile principal, that she’s
A bed-swerver, even as bad as those
That vulgars give bold’st titles; ay, and privy
To this their late escape.
You have mistook, my lady, Polixenes for Leontes. O you thing, Which I’ll not call a creature of your place, Lest barbarism, making me the precedent, Should a like language use to all degrees, And mannerly distinguishment leave out Betwixt the prince and beggar. I have said She’s an adultress; I have said with whom: More, she’s a traitor, and Camillo is A federary with her; and one that knows What she should shame to know herself But with her most vile principal, that she’s A bed-swerver, even as bad as those That vulgars give bold’st titles; ay, and privy To this their late escape.
You have mistook, my lady, Polixenes for Leontes. O you thing, Which I’ll not call a creature of your place, Lest barbarism, making me the precedent, Should a like language use to all degrees, And mannerly distinguishment leave out Betwixt the prince and beggar. I have said She’s an adultress; I have said with whom: More, she’s a traitor, and Camillo is A federary with her; and one that knows What she should shame to know herself But with her most vile principal, that she’s A bed-swerver, even as bad as those That vulgars give bold’st titles; ay, and privy To this their late escape.
you have mistook my lady polixenes for leontes o you thing
Antigonus's speech about gelding his daughters is one of the strangest passages in the play and easy to misread as misogynist raving. But its function is opposite: it's the most extreme expression of absolute certainty about Hermione's innocence in the entire scene. Antigonus is saying: if Hermione is capable of this betrayal, then female loyalty doesn't exist, and I'll act accordingly — but she isn't, so I won't need to. The grotesquerie is in proportion to his conviction. He's offering a bet: if I'm wrong about Hermione, here's what I'll forfeit. The logic is the logic of someone who cannot conceive of being wrong. What makes this a deep structural irony is that Antigonus will later be sent to abandon Perdita in the wilderness — and will die for it. The man who staked his daughters' futures on Hermione's innocence ends up paying with his own life for Leontes's jealousy. The play remembers the wager.
No, by my life,
Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you,
When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that
You thus have publish’d me! Gentle my lord,
You scarce can right me throughly then, to say
You did mistake.
No, by my life, Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you, When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that You thus have publish’d me! Gentle my lord, You scarce can right me throughly then, to say You did mistake.
No, by my life, Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you, When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that You thus have publish’d me! Gentle my lord, You scarce can right me throughly then, to say You did mistake.
by my life privy to none of this how will this grieve you
No. If I mistake
In those foundations which I build upon,
The centre is not big enough to bear
A school-boy’s top. Away with her to prison!
He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty
But that he speaks.
No. If I mistake In those foundations which I build upon, The centre is not big enough to bear A school-boy’s top. Away with her to prison! He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty But that he speaks.
No. If I mistake In those foundations which I build upon, The centre is not big enough to bear A school-boy’s top. Away with her to prison! He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty But that he speaks.
if i mistake in those foundations which i the centre is not big enough to bear away with her to prison! he who shall
There’s some ill planet reigns:
I must be patient till the heavens look
With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords,
I am not prone to weeping, as our sex
Commonly are; the want of which vain dew
Perchance shall dry your pities. But I have
That honourable grief lodg’d here which burns
Worse than tears drown: beseech you all, my lords,
With thoughts so qualified as your charities
Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so
The king’s will be perform’d.
There’s some ill planet reigns: I must be patient till the heavens look With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords, I am not prone to weeping, as our sex Commonly are; the want of which vain dew Perchance shall dry your pities. But I have That honourable grief lodg’d here which burns Worse than tears drown: beseech you all, my lords, With thoughts so qualified as your charities Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so The king’s will be perform’d.
There’s some ill planet reigns: I must be patient till the heavens look With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords, I'm not prone to weeping, as our sex Commonly are; the want of which vain dew Perchance shall dry your pities. But I have That honourable grief lodg’d here which burns Worse than tears drown: beseech you all, my lords, With thoughts so qualified as your charities Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so The king’s will be perform’d.
there’s some ill planet reigns i must be patient till the heavens look good my lords i am not prone to weeping
Shall I be heard?
Shall I be heard?
Shall I be heard?
shall i be heard?
Who is’t that goes with me? Beseech your highness
My women may be with me, for you see
My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools;
There is no cause: when you shall know your mistress
Has deserv’d prison, then abound in tears
As I come out: this action I now go on
Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord:
I never wish’d to see you sorry; now
I trust I shall. My women, come; you have leave.
Who is’t that goes with me? Beseech your highness My women may be with me, for you see My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools; There is no cause: when you shall know your mistress Has deserv’d prison, then abound in tears As I come out: this action I now go on Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord: I never wish’d to see you sorry; now I trust I shall. My women, come; you have leave.
Who is’t that goes with me? Beseech your highness My women may be with me, for you see My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools; There is no cause: when you shall know your mistress Has deserv’d prison, then abound in tears As I come out: this action I now go on Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord: I never wish’d to see you sorry; now I trust I shall. My women, come; you have leave.
who is’t that goes with me? beseech your for you see my plight requires it do not weep good fools
Go, do our bidding. Hence!
Go, do our bidding. Hence!
Go, do our bidding. Hence!
do our bidding hence!
Beseech your highness, call the queen again.
Beseech your highness, call the queen again.
Beseech your highness, call the queen again.
beseech your highness call the queen again
Antigonus speaks bluntly — he lacks the courtier's softening instinct, reaching for analogies that might work on a reasonable man rather than careful diplomatic phrasing. Watch for how his very directness (including the extraordinary speech about his daughters) signals that he is arguing with someone who has lost their grip on reason.
Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice
Prove violence, in the which three great ones suffer,
Yourself, your queen, your son.
Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice Prove violence, in the which three great ones suffer, Yourself, your queen, your son.
Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice Prove violence, in the which three great ones suffer, Yourself, your queen, your son.
be certain what you do lest your justice prove violence in the which three great ones suffer
For her, my lord,
I dare my life lay down, and will do’t, sir,
Please you to accept it, that the queen is spotless
I’ th’ eyes of heaven and to you—I mean
In this which you accuse her.
For her, my lord, I dare my life lay down, and will do’t, sir, Please you to accept it, that the queen is spotless I’ th’ eyes of heaven and to you—I mean In this which you accuse her.
For her, my lord, I dare my life lay down, and will do’t, sir, Please you to accept it, that the queen is spotless I’ th’ eyes of heaven and to you—I mean In this which you accuse her.
for her my lord i dare my life lay down and will do’t
If it prove
She’s otherwise, I’ll keep my stables where
I lodge my wife; I’ll go in couples with her;
Than when I feel and see her no further trust her.
For every inch of woman in the world,
Ay, every dram of woman’s flesh, is false,
If she be.
If it prove She’s otherwise, I’ll keep my stables where I lodge my wife; I’ll go in couples with her; Than when I feel and see her no further trust her. For every inch of woman in the world, Ay, every dram of woman’s flesh, is false, If she be.
If it prove She’s otherwise, I’ll keep my stables where I lodge my wife; I’ll go in couples with her; Than when I feel and see her no further trust her. For every inch of woman in the world, Ay, every dram of woman’s flesh, is false, If she be.
if it prove she’s otherwise i’ll keep my stables where i lodge my wife i’ll go in couples with her than when i feel and see her no further trust her
Hold your peaces.
Hold your peaces.
Hold your peaces.
hold your peaces
There's something deeply revealing about the way Leontes announces the oracle mission. He doesn't say 'I've sent to Apollo to find out the truth.' He says he's already satisfied, the oracle is just for 'the minds of others' — those whose 'ignorant credulity will not come up to th' truth.' This is a man using the apparatus of truth-seeking while being absolutely closed to the results. He wants validation, not information. The tragic irony is that the oracle will give him both — clear, unambiguous divine word that Hermione is chaste, Polixenes is blameless, Camillo a true subject — and he will immediately reject it as false. The oracle functions in this play as Shakespeare's most elegant trap for the paranoid mind: when the divine itself disagrees with you and your response is 'there is no truth at all i' th' oracle,' you have crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed with words. Only catastrophe will reach you.
Good my lord,—
Good my lord,—
Good my lord,—
good my lord
It is for you we speak, not for ourselves:
You are abus’d, and by some putter-on
That will be damn’d for’t: would I knew the villain,
I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw’d,
I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven;
The second and the third, nine and some five;
If this prove true, they’ll pay for’t. By mine honour,
I’ll geld ’em all; fourteen they shall not see,
To bring false generations: they are co-heirs,
And I had rather glib myself than they
Should not produce fair issue.
It is for you we speak, not for ourselves: You are abus’d, and by some putter-on That will be damn’d for’t: would I knew the villain, I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw’d, I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven; The second and the third, nine and some five; If this prove true, they’ll pay for’t. By mine honour, I’ll geld ’em all; fourteen they shall not see, To bring false generations: they are co-heirs, And I had rather glib myself than they Should not produce fair issue.
It is for you we speak, not for ourselves: You are abus’d, and by some putter-on That will be damn’d for’t: would I knew the villain, I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw’d, I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven; The second and the third, nine and some five; If this prove true, they’ll pay for’t. By mine honour, I’ll geld ’em all; fourteen they shall not see, To bring false generations: they are co-heirs, And I had rather glib myself than they Should not produce fair issue.
it is for you we speak not for ourselves you are abus’d and by some putter-on that will be damn’d for’t
Cease; no more.
You smell this business with a sense as cold
As is a dead man’s nose: but I do see’t and feel’t,
As you feel doing thus; and see withal
The instruments that feel.
Cease; no more. You smell this business with a sense as cold As is a dead man’s nose: but I do see’t and feel’t, As you feel doing thus; and see withal The instruments that feel.
Cease; no more. You smell this business with a sense as cold As is a dead man’s nose: but I do see’t and feel’t, As you feel doing thus; and see withal The instruments that feel.
no more you smell this business with a sense as but i do see’t and feel’t
If it be so,
We need no grave to bury honesty.
There’s not a grain of it the face to sweeten
Of the whole dungy earth.
If it be so, We need no grave to bury honesty. There’s not a grain of it the face to sweeten Of the whole dungy earth.
If it be so, We need no grave to bury honesty. There’s not a grain of it the face to sweeten Of the whole dungy earth.
if it be so we need no grave to bury honesty there’s not a grain of it the face
What! Lack I credit?
What! Lack I credit?
What! Lack I credit?
what! lack i credit?
I had rather you did lack than I, my lord,
Upon this ground: and more it would content me
To have her honour true than your suspicion,
Be blam’d for’t how you might.
I had rather you did lack than I, my lord, Upon this ground: and more it would content me To have her honour true than your suspicion, Be blam’d for’t how you might.
I had rather you did lack than I, my lord, Upon this ground: and more it would content me To have her honour true than your suspicion, Be blam’d for’t how you might.
i had rather you did lack than i my lord upon this ground and more it would content me to have
Why, what need we
Commune with you of this, but rather follow
Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative
Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness
Imparts this; which, if you, or stupified
Or seeming so in skill, cannot or will not
Relish a truth, like us, inform yourselves
We need no more of your advice: the matter,
The loss, the gain, the ord’ring on’t, is all
Properly ours.
Why, what need we Commune with you of this, but rather follow Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness Imparts this; which, if you, or stupified Or seeming so in skill, cannot or will not Relish a truth, like us, inform yourselves We need no more of your advice: the matter, The loss, the gain, the ord’ring on’t, is all Properly ours.
Why, what need we Commune with you of this, but rather follow Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative Calls not your counsels, but our natural goodness Imparts this; which, if you, or stupified Or seeming so in skill, can't or won't Relish a truth, like us, inform yourselves We need no more of your advice: the matter, The loss, the gain, the ord’ring on’t, is all Properly ours.
what need we commune with you of this but rather follow our forceful instigation? our prerogative but our natural goodness imparts this
And I wish, my liege,
You had only in your silent judgement tried it,
Without more overture.
And I wish, my liege, You had only in your silent judgement tried it, Without more overture.
And I wish, my liege, You had only in your silent judgement tried it, Without more overture.
and i wish my liege you had only in your silent judgement tried it without more overture
How could that be?
Either thou art most ignorant by age,
Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo’s flight,
Added to their familiarity,
(Which was as gross as ever touch’d conjecture,
That lack’d sight only, nought for approbation
But only seeing, all other circumstances
Made up to th’ deed) doth push on this proceeding.
Yet, for a greater confirmation
(For in an act of this importance, ’twere
Most piteous to be wild), I have dispatch’d in post
To sacred Delphos, to Apollo’s temple,
Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know
Of stuff’d sufficiency: now from the oracle
They will bring all, whose spiritual counsel had,
Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well?
How could that be? Either you art most ignorant by age, Or you wert born a fool. Camillo’s flight, Added to their familiarity, (Which was as gross as ever touch’d conjecture, That lack’d sight only, nought for approbation But only seeing, all other circumstances Made up to th’ deed) does push on this proceeding. Yet, for a greater confirmation (For in an act of this importance, ’twere Most piteous to be wild), I have dispatch’d in post To sacred Delphos, to Apollo’s temple, Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know Of stuff’d sufficiency: now from the oracle They will bring all, whose spiritual counsel had, Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well?
How could that be? Either you art most ignorant by age, Or you wert born a fool. Camillo’s flight, Added to their familiarity, (Which was as gross as ever touch’d conjecture, That lack’d sight only, nought for approbation But only seeing, all other circumstances Made up to th’ deed) does push on this proceeding. Yet, for a greater confirmation (For in an act of this importance, ’twere Most piteous to be wild), I have dispatch’d in post To sacred Delphos, to Apollo’s temple, Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know Of stuff’d sufficiency: now from the oracle They will bring all, whose spiritual counsel had, Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well?
how could that be? either you art most or you wert born a fool camillo’s flight added to their familiarity
Well done, my lord.
Well done, my lord.
Well done, my lord.
well done my lord
Though I am satisfied, and need no more
Than what I know, yet shall the oracle
Give rest to the minds of others, such as he
Whose ignorant credulity will not
Come up to th’ truth. So have we thought it good
From our free person she should be confin’d,
Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence
Be left her to perform. Come, follow us;
We are to speak in public; for this business
Will raise us all.
Though I am satisfied, and need no more Than what I know, yet shall the oracle Give rest to the minds of others, such as he Whose ignorant credulity will not Come up to th’ truth. So have we thought it good From our free person she should be confin’d, Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence Be left her to perform. Come, follow us; We are to speak in public; for this business Will raise us all.
Though I'm satisfied, and need no more Than what I know, yet shall the oracle Give rest to the minds of others, such as he Whose ignorant credulity won't Come up to th’ truth. So have we thought it good From our free person she should be confin’d, Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence Be left her to perform. Come, follow us; We are to speak in public; for this business Will raise us all.
though i am satisfied and need no more than what i know yet shall the oracle give rest to the such as he whose ignorant credulity will not
If the good truth were known.
If the good truth were known.
If the good truth were known.
if the good truth were known
The Reckoning
The contrast is brutal: we open on warmth and childhood innocence — a pregnant queen, a witty little boy, ladies laughing — and within sixty lines Leontes has torn it all apart. Hermione's response is extraordinary: not hysteria but dignity, turning even her imprisonment into a kind of moral authority. The audience watches her walk to prison knowing she is innocent, and the horror isn't just what Leontes does — it's that everyone can see he is wrong and cannot stop him.
If this happened today…
Imagine a CEO who, after convincing himself his CFO and a board member are conspiring against him, storms into a company all-hands meeting where his visibly pregnant wife is doing a Q&A with junior staff, publicly fires her on the spot, accuses her of fraud, and has security escort her out — while the other executives stand around saying 'sir, please reconsider' and getting nowhere. The wife, nine months along, tells the room not to cry for her and that she fully expects to be vindicated. The CEO has already sent an external auditor to investigate. The auditor will not find what he expects.