Video: BBC Television
Mamillius (Prince of Sicilia):
A sad tale's best for winter: I have one
Of sprites and goblins.
Hermione (Queen of Sicilia):
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.
Mamillius:
There was a man&ndash:
Hermione:
Nay, come, sit down; then on.
Mamillius:
Dwelt by a churchyard: I will tell it softly;
Yond crickets shall not hear it.
Hermione:
Come on, then,
And give't me in mine ear.
Leontes (King of Sicilia):
Was he met there? his train? Camillo with him?
First Lord:
Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never
Saw I men scour so on their way: I eyed them
Even to their ships.
Leontes:
How blest am I
In my just censure, in my true opinion!
Alack, for lesser knowledge! how accursed
In being so blest! There may be in the cup
A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart,
Leontes:
And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge
Is not infected: but if one present
The 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.
Leontes:
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?
First Lord:
By his great authority;
Which often hath no less prevail'd than so
On your command.
Leontes:
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.
Hermione:
What is this? sport?
Leontes:
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.
Hermione:
But I'ld say he had not,
And I'll be sworn you would believe my saying,
Howe'er you lean to the nayward.
Leontes:
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:'
Leontes:
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&ndash:O, I am out&ndash:
That mercy does, for calumny will sear
Leontes:
Virtue itself: these shrugs, these hums and ha's,
When you have said 'she's goodly,' come between
Ere you can say 'she's honest:' but be 't known,
From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,
She's an adulteress.