Page 789 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4
P. 789

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 [15] life 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. [20]



              HERMIONE
               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, [25]
               Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it,

               Be so receiv’d. 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 [30]
               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 devis’d [35]
               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 [40]
               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 [45]

               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 t’appear thus: if one jot beyond
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