Paulina’s speech and analysis.
Source
Arden 3 | John Pitcher. New York: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2010
PAULINA
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels, racks, fires? What flaying, boiling
In leads or oils? What old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves 175
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies –
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine – O think what they have done,
And then run mad indeed, stark mad, for all 180
Thy bygone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betrayed’st Polixenes, ’twas nothing ;
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant,
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much
Thou wouldst have poisoned good Camillo’s honour, 185
To have him kill a king – poor trespasses,
More monstrous standing by; whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter
To be or none or little, though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t. 190
Nor is’t directly laid to thee the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts –
Thoughts high for one so tender – cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemished his gracious dam. This is not, no, 195
Laid to thy answer. But the last – O lords,
When I have said, cry woe! The queen, the queen,
The sweetest, dearest creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropped down yet.
Thought Counts
Arden 3 | 2010
Short: 9
Medium: 4
Long: 2
Total: 15
End-stopped: 4
Mid-line: 11
Periods: 6
Exclamations: 1
Questions: 4
Unfinished: 4
Paulina needs:
the King to crumble with regret at killing his wife.
Thoughts
Arden 3 | 2010
PAULINA
1. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
2. What wheels, racks, fires? 3. What flaying, boiling
In leads or oils? 4. What old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves 175
To taste of thy most worst? 5. Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies –
6. Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine – 7. O think what they have done,
And then run mad indeed, stark mad, for all 180
Thy bygone fooleries were but spices of it.
8. That thou betrayed’st Polixenes, ’twas nothing;
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant,
And damnable ingrateful. 9. Nor was’t much
Thou wouldst have poisoned good Camillo’s honour, 185
To have him kill a king – 10. poor trespasses,
More monstrous standing by; whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter
To be or none or little, though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t. 190
11. Nor is’t directly laid to thee the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts –
Thoughts high for one so tender – cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemished his gracious dam. 12. This is not, no, 195
Laid to thy answer. 13. But the last – 14. O lords,
When I have said, cry woe! 15. The queen, the queen,
The sweetest, dearest creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropped down yet.
Line Analysis
Arden 3 | 2010
PAULINA
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? 10R
What wheels, racks, fires? What flaying, boiling? 9 | 10
In leads or oils? What old or newer torture 11w | 12w
Must I receive, whose every word deserves 10R
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny, 10R
Together working with thy jealousies– 10R
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle 11w
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done 10R
And then run mad indeed, stark mad, for all 10R
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. 11 w | 12 w
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing; 11 w
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant 11 w
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much, 10R
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour, 11w
To have him kill a king– poor trespasses, 11 W
More monstrous standing by; whereof I reckon 11w
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter 11w
To be or none or little, though a devil 11w
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t. 10
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death 10R
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts– 10
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart 10R
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire 10R
Blemish’d his gracious dam. This is not, no, 10
Laid to thy answer. But the last– O lords, 10
When I have said, cry woe! The queen, the queen, 10R
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t 10R | 10
Not dropp’d down yet. 4 incomplete
Phrasing and Tempo
Arden 3 | 2010
PAULINA
What studied torments, ^ tyrant, ^ hast for me? PAUSE?
What wheels, ^ racks, ^ fires? ^ What flaying, ^ boiling
In leads or oils? ^ What old or newer torture
Must I receive, ^ whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? ^ Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, ^ too green and idle
For girls of nine— ^ O, ^ think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, ^ stark mad, ^ for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. PAUSE?
That thou betray’dst Polixenes, ^ ’twas nothing;
That did but show thee, ^ of a fool, ^ inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. ^ Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king— ^ poor trespasses,
More monstrous standing by; ^ whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little, ^ though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t. PAUSE?
Nor is’t directly laid to thee the death
Of the young prince, ^ whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– ^ cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam. ^ This is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. ^ But the last,– ^ O ^ lords,
When I have said, ^ cry woe! ^ The queen, ^ the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, ^ and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
Sounds
Arden 3 | 2010
PAULINA
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling?
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
Rhetoric
Arden 3 | 2010
imagery
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling?
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture .
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst?
Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine–
O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire .
Blemish’d his gracious dam:
The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
metaphor
for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king.
simile
plain comparison
Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing: (hyperbole)
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour, (hyperbole)
To have him kill a king.
Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer.
But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
juxtaposition
Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine–
for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful.
Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king.
Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer.
But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
antithesis
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine–
contradiction/paradox
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing: (list, hyperbole)
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour, (metaphor)
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon (imagery)
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter (imagery, missing word: of)
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t. (imagery)
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart (imagery)
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire . (this and that)
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen, (repetition)
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t (list)
Not dropp’d down yet. (imagery)
personification
Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad!
Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by:
and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
this and that
what old or newer torture
Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
green and idle
none or little;
gross and foolish
this, that, and another thing
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful.
enumerations
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
1) What wheels? 2) Racks? 3) Fires? 4) What flaying? 5) Boiling?
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst?
1) That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. 2) Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: 3) whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
4) Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. 5) But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
repetitions of words or phrases
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? (irony, rhetorical questions)
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling? (list of 5)
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture . (this or that)
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny, (imagery, personification)
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle (imagery, antithesis)
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all (repetition)
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. (imagery, metaphor)
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing: (list, hyperbole)
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour, (metaphor)
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon (imagery)
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter (imagery, missing word: of)
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t. (imagery)
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart (imagery)
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire . (this and that)
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen, (repetition)
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t (list)
Not dropp’d down yet. (imagery)
parenthesis
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
(Thoughts high for one so tender)– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam:
irony
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling?
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
puns and other wordplay
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? (irony, rhetorical questions)
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling? (list of 5)
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture . (this or that)
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny, (imagery, personification)
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle (imagery, antithesis)
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all (repetition)
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. (imagery, metaphor)
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing: (list, hyperbole)
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour, (metaphor)
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon (imagery)
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter (imagery, missing word: of)
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t. (imagery)
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart (imagery)
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire . (this and that)
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen, (repetition)
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t (list)
Not dropp’d down yet. (imagery)
onomatopoeia
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? (irony, rhetorical questions)
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling? (list of 5)
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture . (this or that)
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny, (imagery, personification)
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle (imagery, antithesis)
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all (repetition)
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. (imagery, metaphor)
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing: (list, hyperbole)
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour, (metaphor)
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon (imagery)
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter (imagery, missing word: of)
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t. (imagery)
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart (imagery)
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire . (this and that)
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen, (repetition)
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t (list)
Not dropp’d down yet. (imagery)
Before and After
Arden 3 | 2010
LEONTES
There is no truth at all i’ the oracle:
The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood.
Enter Servant
Servant
My lord the king, the king!
LEONTES
What is the business?
Servant
O sir, I shall be hated to report it!
The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear
Of the queen’s speed, is gone.
LEONTES
How! gone!
Servant
Is dead.
LEONTES
Apollo’s angry; and the heavens themselves
Do strike at my injustice.
HERMIONE swoons
How now there!
PAULINA
This news is mortal to the queen: look down
And see what death is doing.
LEONTES
Take her hence:
Her heart is but o’ercharged; she will recover:
I have too much believed mine own suspicion:
Beseech you, tenderly apply to her
Some remedies for life.
Exeunt PAULINA and Ladies, with HERMIONE
Apollo, pardon
My great profaneness ‘gainst thine oracle!
I’ll reconcile me to Polixenes,
New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo,
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy;
For, being transported by my jealousies
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose
Camillo for the minister to poison
My friend Polixenes: which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
My swift command, though I with death and with
Reward did threaten and encourage him,
Not doing ‘t and being done: he, most humane
And fill’d with honour, to my kingly guest
Unclasp’d my practise, quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great, and to the hazard
Of all encertainties himself commended,
No richer than his honour: how he glisters
Thorough my rust! and how his pity
Does my deeds make the blacker!
Re-enter PAULINA
PAULINA
Woe the while!
O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
Break too.
First Lord
What fit is this, good lady?
PAULINA
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling?
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
First Lord
The higher powers forbid!
PAULINA
I say she’s dead; I’ll swear’t. If word nor oath
Prevail not, go and see: if you can bring
Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye,
Heat outwardly or breath within, I’ll serve you
As I would do the gods. But, O thou tyrant!
Do not repent these things, for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can stir; therefore betake thee
To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren mountain and still winter
In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
To look that way thou wert.
LEONTES
Go on, go on
Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved
All tongues to talk their bitterest.
First Lord
Say no more:
Howe’er the business goes, you have made fault
I’ the boldness of your speech.
PAULINA
I am sorry for’t:
All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
I do repent. Alas! I have show’d too much
The rashness of a woman: he is touch’d
To the noble heart. What’s gone and what’s past help
Should be past grief: do not receive affliction
At my petition; I beseech you, rather
Let me be punish’d, that have minded you
Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege
Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman:
The love I bore your queen–lo, fool again!–
I’ll speak of her no more, nor of your children;
I’ll not remember you of my own lord,
Who is lost too: take your patience to you,
And I’ll say nothing.
LEONTES
Thou didst speak but well
When most the truth; which I receive much better
Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me
To the dead bodies of my queen and son:
One grave shall be for both: upon them shall
The causes of their death appear, unto
Our shame perpetual. Once a day I’ll visit
The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there
Shall be my recreation: so long as nature
Will bear up with this exercise, so long
I daily vow to use it. Come and lead me
Unto these sorrows.
Exeunt
Definitions
Arden 3 | 2010
studied
torments
tyrant
wheels
racks
fires
flaying
boiling in leads or oils
leads
oils
fancies
green
idle
stark
by-gone
fooleries
spices
Polixenes
fool
inconstant
damnable
ingrateful
Camillo
monstrous
reckon
casting forth to crows
devil
shed
high
tender
cleft
conceive
gross
sire
blemish’d
dam
answer
creature
dropp’d down
Translation
Ian Leung
PAULINA
What carefully research torture do you, despot, have in store for me?
Translation
No Fear Shakespeare
PAULINA
How have you decided to torment me, tyrant? With wheels, racks, fires, or flaying? With lead or oil? What old or new torture must I receive, since my every word deserves the worst you could give me? Think of what your jealousy—which is too silly even for boys, and too immature and foolish for a nine-year-old girl—together with your tyranny has done, and then you’ll go mad! All of your earlier insanities were just a foretaste of this. Your betrayal of Polixenes was nothing—it just showed you to be a fickle and ungrateful fool. Neither was it much that you tried to tarnish Camillo’s honor by commissioning him to assassinate a king. These are just small misdeeds, with a more monstrous one waiting. I suppose the fact that you threw your baby daughter to the crows is little or nothing beside this, even though a devil would have shed tears from his fiery eyes before he did that. And the death of the young prince isn’t directly your fault. His heart tore in two at the thought that his gracious mother had been so disgraced by his vulgar and foolish father. This is not the worst act you’ll have to answer for. But this last deed—Oh, lords, when I have told you to grieve, it is because the queen, that dearest, sweetest creature, is dead, and she has not yet been avenged.
Source
RSC | Jonathan Bate & Eric Rasmussen. London: RSC Shakespeare, 2009
PAULINA
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling?
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
Thought Counts
RSC | 2009
Short: 11
Medium: 6
Long: 1
Total: 18
End-stopped: 6
Mid-line: 12
Periods: 7
Exclamations: 1
Questions: 7
Unfinished: 3
Paulina needs:
the King to crumble with regret at killing his wife.
Thoughts
RSC | 2009
PAULINA
1. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
2. What wheels? 3. Racks? 4. Fires? 5. What flaying? 6. Boiling?
7. In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? 8. Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
9. Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine– 10. O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
11. That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. 12. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. 13. Poor trespasses.
14. More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
15. Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. 16. But the last,– 17. O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ 18. The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
Line Analysis
RSC | 2009
PAULINA
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? 10R
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling? 9 | 10
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture 11w | 12w
Must I receive, whose every word deserves 10R
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny, 10R
Together working with thy jealousies– 10R
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle 11w
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done 10R
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all 10R
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. 11w | 12w
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing: 11w
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant 11w
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much, 10R
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour, 11w
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses. 10
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon 11w
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter 11w
To be or none or little; though a devil 11w
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t. 10
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death 10R
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts– 10
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart 10R
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire 10R
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no, 10
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords, 10
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen, 10R
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t . 10R | 10
Not dropp’d down yet. 4 incomplete
Phrasing and Tempo
RSC | 2009
PAULINA
What studied torments, <c> tyrant, <c> hast for me? pause
What wheels?<c, quickly> Racks?<c, quickly> Fires?<c, quickly> What flaying?<c, quickly> Boiling? pause
In leads or oils?<c> what old or newer torture
Must I receive,<c> whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst?<c, quickly> Thy tyranny, slowly |
Together working with thy jealousies– carefully
Fancies too weak for boys,<c> too green and idle carefully
For girls of nine– <c> O,<c> think what they have done slowly
And then run mad indeed,<c> stark mad!<c> for all slowly?
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. pause
That thou betray’dst Polixenes, <c> ’twas nothing:
That did but show thee,<c> of a fool,<c> inconstant
And damnable ingrateful.<c, quickly> Nor was’t much, carefully
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. <c, quickly> Poor trespasses. pause slowly |
More monstrous standing by:<c> whereof I reckon carefully
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; <c> though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t. pause carefully
Nor is’t directly laid to thee,<c> the death
Of the young prince,<c> whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– <c> cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam:<c> this is not, no, carefully | slowly
Laid to thy answer.<c, quickly> But the last,– <c> O, lords,
When I have said,<c> cry ‘woe!’ <c, quickly> The queen,<c> the queen, slowly
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, <c> and vengeance for’t carefully
Not dropp’d down yet. slowly carefully
Sounds
RSC | 2009
PAULINA
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling?
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
Rhetoric
RSC | 2009
PAULINA
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? (irony, rhetorical questions)
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling? (list of 5)
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture . (this or that)
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny, (imagery, personification)
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle (imagery, antithesis)
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all (repetition)
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. (imagery, metaphor)
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing: (list, hyperbole)
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour, (metaphor)
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon (imagery)
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter (imagery, missing word: of)
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t. (imagery)
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart (imagery)
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire . (this and that)
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen, (repetition)
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t (list)
Not dropp’d down yet. (imagery)
Before and After
RSC | 2009
LEONTES
There is no truth at all i’ the oracle:
The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood.
Enter Servant
Servant
My lord the king, the king!
LEONTES
What is the business?
Servant
O sir, I shall be hated to report it!
The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear
Of the queen’s speed, is gone.
LEONTES
How! gone!
Servant
Is dead.
LEONTES
Apollo’s angry; and the heavens themselves
Do strike at my injustice.
HERMIONE swoons
How now there!
PAULINA
This news is mortal to the queen: look down
And see what death is doing.
LEONTES
Take her hence:
Her heart is but o’ercharged; she will recover:
I have too much believed mine own suspicion:
Beseech you, tenderly apply to her
Some remedies for life.
Exeunt PAULINA and Ladies, with HERMIONE
Apollo, pardon
My great profaneness ‘gainst thine oracle!
I’ll reconcile me to Polixenes,
New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo,
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy;
For, being transported by my jealousies
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose
Camillo for the minister to poison
My friend Polixenes: which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
My swift command, though I with death and with
Reward did threaten and encourage him,
Not doing ‘t and being done: he, most humane
And fill’d with honour, to my kingly guest
Unclasp’d my practise, quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great, and to the hazard
Of all encertainties himself commended,
No richer than his honour: how he glisters
Thorough my rust! and how his pity
Does my deeds make the blacker!
Re-enter PAULINA
PAULINA
Woe the while!
O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
Break too.
First Lord
What fit is this, good lady?
PAULINA
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling?
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
First Lord
The higher powers forbid!
PAULINA
I say she’s dead; I’ll swear’t. If word nor oath
Prevail not, go and see: if you can bring
Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye,
Heat outwardly or breath within, I’ll serve you
As I would do the gods. But, O thou tyrant!
Do not repent these things, for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can stir; therefore betake thee
To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren mountain and still winter
In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
To look that way thou wert.
LEONTES
Go on, go on
Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved
All tongues to talk their bitterest.
First Lord
Say no more:
Howe’er the business goes, you have made fault
I’ the boldness of your speech.
PAULINA
I am sorry for’t:
All faults I make, when I shall come to know them,
I do repent. Alas! I have show’d too much
The rashness of a woman: he is touch’d
To the noble heart. What’s gone and what’s past help
Should be past grief: do not receive affliction
At my petition; I beseech you, rather
Let me be punish’d, that have minded you
Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege
Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman:
The love I bore your queen–lo, fool again!–
I’ll speak of her no more, nor of your children;
I’ll not remember you of my own lord,
Who is lost too: take your patience to you,
And I’ll say nothing.
LEONTES
Thou didst speak but well
When most the truth; which I receive much better
Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me
To the dead bodies of my queen and son:
One grave shall be for both: upon them shall
The causes of their death appear, unto
Our shame perpetual. Once a day I’ll visit
The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there
Shall be my recreation: so long as nature
Will bear up with this exercise, so long
I daily vow to use it. Come and lead me
Unto these sorrows.
Exeunt
Definitions
RSC | 2009
PAULINA
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling?
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.
Translation
RSC | 2009
LEONTES
There is no truth at all i’ the oracle:
The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood.
Enter Servant
Servant
My lord the king, the king!
LEONTES
What is the business?
Servant
O sir, I shall be hated to report it!
The prince your son, with mere conceit and fear
Of the queen’s speed, is gone.
LEONTES
How! gone!
Servant
Is dead.
LEONTES
Apollo’s angry; and the heavens themselves
Do strike at my injustice.
HERMIONE swoons
How now there!
PAULINA
This news is mortal to the queen: look down
And see what death is doing.
LEONTES
Take her hence:
Her heart is but o’ercharged; she will recover:
I have too much believed mine own suspicion:
Beseech you, tenderly apply to her
Some remedies for life.
Exeunt PAULINA and Ladies, with HERMIONE
Apollo, pardon
My great profaneness ‘gainst thine oracle!
I’ll reconcile me to Polixenes,
New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo,
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy;
For, being transported by my jealousies
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose
Camillo for the minister to poison
My friend Polixenes: which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
My swift command, though I with death and with
Reward did threaten and encourage him,
Not doing ‘t and being done: he, most humane
And fill’d with honour, to my kingly guest
Unclasp’d my practise, quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great, and to the hazard
Of all encertainties himself commended,
No richer than his honour: how he glisters
Thorough my rust! and how his pity
Does my deeds make the blacker!
Re-enter PAULINA
PAULINA
Woe the while!
O, cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it,
Break too.
First Lord
What fit is this, good lady?
PAULINA
What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling?
In leads or oils? what old or newer torture
Must I receive, whose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny,
Together working with thy jealousies–
Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
For girls of nine– O, think what they have done
And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all
Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it.
That thou betray’dst Polixenes,’twas nothing:
That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant
And damnable ingrateful. Nor was’t much,
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. Poor trespasses.
More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; though a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.
Nor is’t directly laid to thee, the death
Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts–
Thoughts high for one so tender– cleft the heart
That could conceive a gross and foolish sire
Blemish’d his gracious dam: this is not, no,
Laid to thy answer. But the last,–O, lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ The queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead, and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.