thyself, but to thy lewd-tongu'd wife,
Whom for this time we pardon. We enjoin thee,
As thou art liegeman to us, that thou carry
This female bastard hence; and that thou bear it
To some remote and desert place, quite out
Of our dominions; and that there thou leave it,
Without more mercy, to it own protection
And favour of the climate. As by strange fortune
It came to us, I do in justice charge thee,
On thy soul's peril and thy body's torture,
That thou commend it strangely to some place
Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up.
ANTIGONUS.
I swear to do this, though a present death
Had been more merciful.--Come on, poor babe:
Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens
To be thy nurses! Wolves and bears, they say,
Casting their savageness aside, have done
Like offices of pity.--Sir, be prosperous
In more than this deed does require!--and blessing,
Against this cruelty, fight on thy side,
Poor thing, condemn'd to loss!
[Exit with the child.]
LEONTES.
No, I'll not rear
Another's issue.
SECOND ATTENDANT.
Please your highness, posts
From those you sent to the oracle are come
An hour since: Cleomenes and Dion,
Being well arriv'd from Delphos, are both landed,
Hasting to the court.
FIRST LORD.
So please you, sir, their speed
Hath been beyond account.
LEONTES.
Twenty-three days
They have been absent: 'tis good speed; foretells
The great Apollo suddenly will have
The truth of this appear. Prepare you, lords;
Summon a session, that we may arraign
Our most disloyal lady; for, as she hath
Been publicly accus'd, so shall she have
A just and open trial. While she lives,
My heart will be a burden to me. Leave me;
And think upon my bidding.
[Exeunt.]
ACT III.
SCENE I. Sicilia. A Street in some Town.
[Enter CLEOMENES and DION.]
CLEOMENES.
The climate's delicate; the air most sweet;
Fertile the isle; the temple much surpassing
The common praise it bears.
DION.
I shall report,
For most it caught me, the celestial habits,--
Methinks I so should term them,--and the reverence
Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice!
How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly,
It was i' the offering!
CLEOMENES.
But of all, the burst
And the ear-deaf'ning voice o' the oracle,
Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense
That I was nothing.
DION.
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