PAULINA

Paulina’s speech and analysis.

Paulina | Act 3, Scene 2 | 185-213

What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?

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

Objective

 

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 .   10R10
Not dropp’d down yet.                                                      4 incomplete

Phrasing and Tempo
RSC | 2009

PAULINA
What studied torments, <ctyrant, <chast for me?  pause
What wheels?<c, quicklyRacks?<c, quicklyFires?<c, quicklyWhat flaying?<c, quicklyBoiling?  pause
In leads or oils?<cwhat old or newer torture
Must I receive,<cwhose every word deserves
To taste of thy most worst?<c, quicklyThy tyranny,  slowly |
Together working with thy jealousies–  carefully
Fancies too weak for boys,<ctoo green and idle   carefully
For girls of nine– <c> O,<cthink what they have done  slowly
And then run mad indeed,<cstark mad!<cfor 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,<cof a fool,<cinconstant
And damnable ingrateful.<c, quicklyNor was’t much,   carefully
Thou wouldst have poison’d good Camillo’s honour,
To have him kill a king. <c, quicklyPoor trespasses.  pause  slowly |
More monstrous standing by:<cwhereof I reckon   carefully
The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter
To be or none or little; <cthough a devil
Would have shed water out of fire ere done’t.  pause  carefully
Nor is’t directly laid to thee,<cthe death
Of the young prince,<cwhose 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:<cthis is not, no, carefully  | slowly
Laid to thy answer.<c, quicklyBut the last,– <c> O, lords,
When I have said,<ccry ‘woe!’ <c, quickly> The queen,<cthe 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.

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