“Sir, spare your threats,” said Hermione with noble dignity. “The spectre you would frighten me with, I seek. To me life is no great thing to be desired. The crown and comfort of my life--your favour--is lost, for I feel it to be gone, though I know not how it went. My second joy--my first-born child--I am debarred from his presence, like one infectious. My third comfort--my dear little innocent baby--has been torn from me. I have myself been branded with disgrace on every hand. And, lastly, I have been hurried here to this place, in the open court, while I am still weak and ill, and unfitted to appear. Now, my liege, tell me what blessings I have here while I am alive, that I should fear to die? Therefore proceed. But yet, hear this: mistake me not, I do not beg for life; I prize it not a straw. But for mine honour, I will not have that condemned without any proof except what your jealous surmises awake. My lords, I refer me to the Oracle. Apollo be my judge!” The councillors present declared that Hermione’s request was altogether just, and ordered the messengers from Delphos to be summoned. The latter then handed to the officer of the court the sealed letter from the Oracle, which he forthwith opened and read in the presence of all. The Oracle spoke thus: “Hermione is innocent; Polixenes blameless; Camillo a true subject; Leontes a jealous tyrant; the innocent babe is his daughter; and the King shall live without an heir if that which is lost be not found.” “Now blessed be the great Apollo!” shouted all the lords. “Praised!” cried Hermione. “Hast thou read truth?” demanded Leontes. “Ay, my lord, even so as it is here set down,” said the officer of the court. “There is no truth at all in the Oracle,” exclaimed Leontes. “The trial shall proceed; this is mere falsehood.” But at that instant came a terrible shock to the headstrong King. A servant entered with the mournful tidings that the young Prince, the noble boy Mamillius, was dead. The separation from his beloved mother, and dread as to her possible fate, had so wrought on the imagination of the sensitive child that he had died of grief. On hearing of this new calamity, Hermione’s fortitude gave way, and she fell fainting to the ground. Leontes’s stubborn spirit began to quail. He saw in this blow the wrath of heaven against his injustice. He admitted that he had too much believed his suspicions; he ordered that the Queen should be carried away, and every remedy tenderly applied to restore her to life. In his new terror he hastily began to make good resolutions. He would be reconciled with Polixenes; he would woo the Queen again; he would recall Camillo, whom he forthwith proclaimed a man of mercy and truth, for by his piety and humanity he had saved the life of Polixenes when Leontes would have poisoned him.