Cleo.
Sir, you have done enough, and have perform'd
A saint-like sorrow: At the last,
Do, as the heavens have done; forget your evil;
With them, forgive yourself.

Leon.
Whilst I remember
Her, and her virtues, I cannot forget
My blemishes in them; and so still think of
The wrong I did myself: which was so much,
That heirless it hath made my kingdom; and
Destroy'd the sweet'st companion, that e'er man
Bred his hopes out of.

Paul.
True, too true, my lord:
If, one by one, you wedded all the world,
Or, from the all that are, took something good,
To make a perfect woman; she, you kill'd,
Would be unparallel'd.

Leon.
I think so. Kill'd!
She I kill'd? I did so: but thou strikest me
Sorely, to say I did: Now, good now,
Say so but seldom.

Cleo.
Not at all, good lady:
You might have spoken a thousand things, that would

Have done the time more benefit, and grac'd
Your kindness better.

Paul.
You are one of those,
Would have him wed again.

Dion.
If you would not so,
You pity not the state, nor the remembrance
Of his most sovereign name; consider little,
What dangers, by his highness' fail of issue,
May drop upon his kingdom, and devour
Incertain lookers-on.

Paul.
The gods
Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes:
For has not the divine Apollo said,
That King Leontes shall not have an heir
Till his lost child be found? which, that it shall,
Is all as monstrous to our human reason,
As my Antigonus to break his grave,
And come again to me; who, on my life,
Did perish with the infant. [To Leontes.

Leon.
Good Paulina,—
Who hast the memory of Hermione,
I know, in honour,—O, that ever I
Had squar'd me to thy counsel! then, even now,
I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes;
Have taken treasure from her lips,—

Paul.
And left them
More rich, for what they yielded.

Leon.
Thou speak'st truth.
No more such wives; therefore, no wife:
I'll have no wife, Paulina.

Paul.
Will you swear
Never to marry, but by my free leave?

Leon.
Never, Paulina; so be bless'd my spirit!

Paul.
Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath.

Cleo.
You tempt him over-much.

Paul.
I have done.
Yet, if my lord will marry,—give me the office
To choose you a queen: she shall not be so young
As was your former; but she shall be such,

As, walk'd your first queen's ghost, it should take joy
To see her in your arms. Enter First Lord.

1st Lord.
One that gives out himself Prince Florizel,
Son of Polixenes, with his princess, desires access
To your high presence.

Leon.
What with him? he comes not
Like to his father's greatness: his approach,
So out of circumstance, and sudden, tells us,
'Tis not a visitation fram'd, but forc'd
By need, and accident. What train?

1st Lord.
But few,
And those but mean.

Leon.
His princess, say you, with him?

1st Lord.
Ay; the most peerless piece of earth, I think,
That e'er the sun shone bright on.

Leon.
Go, Cleomenes;
Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends,
Bring them to our embracement.—[Exeunt Cleomenes, and Lords.]—Still 'tis strange,
He thus should steal upon us.

Paul.
Had our prince,
(Jewel of children) seen this hour, he had pair'd
Well with this lord; there was not full a month
Between their births.

Leon.
Pr'ythee no more; thou know'st
He dies to me again when talk'd of: sure,
When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches
Will bring me to consider that which may
Unfurnish me of reason.— Re-enter Cleomenes, with Florizel, Perdita, and Lords.
They are come.—Most dearly welcome!
And your fair princess, goddess! O, alas;
I lost a couple, that 'twxit heaven and earth
Might thus have stood, begetting wonder, as
You, gracious couple, do: and then I lost
(All mine own folly) the society,
Amity too, of your brave father; whom,

Though bearing misery, I desire my life
Once more to look upon.

Flo.
By his command
Have I here touch'd Sicilia, and from him
Give you all greetings that a king and friend
Can send his brother, whom he loves
More than all the sceptres,
And those that bear them, living.

Leon.
O, my brother,
The wrongs I have done thee stir
Afresh within me:—Welcome hither,
As is the spring to the earth: the blessed gods
Purge all infection from our air, whilst you
Do climate here! You have a noble father,
A graceful^{1 note} gentleman, against whose person,
So sacred as it is, I have done sin;
For which the heavens, taking angry note,
Have left me issueless; and your father's bless'd
(As he from heaven merits it) with you,
Worthy his goodness. What might I have been,
Might I a son and daughter now have look'd on,
Such goodly things as you? Enter Archidamus, and two Bithynian Lords.

Arch.
Please you, great sir,
Bithynia greets you from himself, by me;
Desires you to attach his son, who has
(His dignity and duty both cast off)
Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with
A shepherd's daughter.

Leon.
Where's Bithynia? speak.

Arch.
Here in your city; I now came from him.
To your court whiles he was hast'ning (in the chase
Of this fair couple) meets he on the way
The father of this seeming lady, and
Her brother, having both their country quitted
With this young prince.

Flo.
Camillo has betray'd me;
Whose honour, and whose honesty, till now,
Endur'd all weathers.

Arch.
He's with the king your father.

Leon.
Who? Camillo?

Arch.
Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who now
Has these poor men in question.^{2 note}

Per.
O, my poor father!—
The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have
Our contract celebrated.

Leon.
You are married?

Flo.
We are not, sir, nor are we like to be;
The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first.

Leon.
My lord,
Is this the daughter of a king?

Flo.
She is,
When once she is my wife.

Leon.
That once, I see, by your good father's speed,
Will come on very slowly. I am sorry
Your choice is not so rich in worth^{3 note} as beauty.

Flo.
Dear, look up:
Though fortune, visible an enemy,
Should chase us, with my father; power no jot
Hath she to change our loves.—'Beseech you, sir,
Remember since you ow'd no more to time^{4 note}
Than I do now: with thought of such affections,
Step forth mine advocate; at your request
My father will grant precious things as trifles.

Leon.
Would he do so, I'd beg your precious mistress,
Which he counts but a trifle.

Paul.
Sir, my liege,
Your eye hath too much youth in't: not a month
'Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes
Than what you look on now.

Leon.
I thought of her,
Even in these looks I made.—But your petition [To Florizel.
Is yet unanswer'd: I will to your father;
Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires,
I am friend to them, and you: upon which errand
I now go toward him; therefore, follow me,
And mark what way I make: Come, good my lord. [Exeunt. Scene II. —THE TOMBS OF SYRACUSE(C)8Q0249 (Restored.) Sunset. Enter Dion and First Lord.

Dion.

'Beseech you, sir, were you present at this relation?

1st Lord.

I was by at the opening of the fardel, heard the old shepherd deliver the manner how he found it: whereupon, after a little amazedness, we were all commanded out of the chamber: only this, methought, I heard the shepherd say, he found the child.

Dion.

I would most gladly know the issue of it.

1st Lord.

I make a broken delivery of the business;— But the changes I perceived in the King, and Camillo, were very notes of admiration: there was speech in their dumbness, language in their very gesture.

Here comes a gentleman, that, happily, knows more:— The news?

2nd Lord.

The oracle is fulfill'd; the king's daughter is found: such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour, that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it.

How goes it now, sir? Has the king found his heir?

Cleo.

Most true; if ever truth were proved by circumstance. The mantle of Queen Hermione;—her jewel

about the neck of it;—the letters of Antigonus, found with it, which they know to be his character;—the majesty of the creature, in resemblance of the mother;—and many other evidences, proclaim her, with all certainty to be the king's daughter. Did you see the meeting of the two kings?

Dion.

No.

Cleo.

Then have you lost a sight, which was to be seen, cannot be spoken of. Our king, being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found daughter, cries, O, thy mother, thy mother! then asks Bithynia forgiveness; then embraces his son-in-law; then thanks the old shepherd. I never heard of such another encounter, which lames report to follow it, and undoes description to show it.

1st Lord.

What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carried hence the child?

Cleo.

He was torn to pieces with a bear: this avouches the shepherd's son, who has not only his innocence (which seems much) to justify him, but a handkerchief, and rings, of his, that Paulina knows.

2nd Lord.

What became of his bark, and his followers?

Cleo.

Wreck'd, the same instant of their master's death; and in the view of the shepherd: so that all the instruments, which aided to expose the child, were even then lost, when it was found.

Dion.

Are they returned to the court?

Cleo.

No: the princess hearing of her mother's statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina, thither with all greediness of affection, are they gone.

1st Lord.

She hath privately, twice or thrice a day, ever since the death of Hermione, visited that removed house. Shall we thither, and with our company piece the rejoicing?

Cleo.

Who would be thence, that has the benefit of access? Our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge, Let's along.

Scene III. —THE PERISTYLE OF PAULINA'S HOUSE. WITH PART OF THE SCULPTURE GALLERY. Evening. Enter Leontes, Polixenes, Florizel, Perdita, Camillo, Paulina, Lords, and Attendants.

Leon.
O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort
That I have had of thee!

Paul.
What, sovereign, sir,
I did not well, I meant well: All my services,
You have paid home: but that you have vouchsaf'd,
With your crown'd brother, and these your contracted
Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit;
It is a surplus of your grace, which never
My life may last to answer.

Leon.
O Paulina,
We honour you with trouble: But we came
To see the statue of our queen: your gallery
Have we passed through, not without much content
In many singularities; but we saw not
That which my daughter came to look upon,—
The statue of her mother.

Paul.
As she liv'd peerless,
So her dead likeness, I do well believe,
Excels whatever yet you look'd upon.
Here it is: prepare
To see the life as lively mock'd, as ever
Still sleep mock'd death: behold; and say, 'tis well. [Paulina undraws a curtain, and discovers a statue.
I like your silence, it the more shows off
Your wonder: But yet speak;—first, you, my liege.
Comes it not something near?

Leon.
Her natural posture!—
Chide me, dear stone; that I may say, indeed,
Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she,
In thy not chiding: for she was as tender

As infancy and grace.—O, thus she stood,
Even with such life of majesty, when first I woo'd her!
Does not the stone rebuke me,
For being more stone than it?
There's magic in thy majesty, which has
My evils conjur'd to remembrance; and
From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,
Standing like stone with thee!

Paul.
Indeed, my lord,
If I had thought the sight of my poor image
Would thus have wrought^{5 note} you,
I'd not have show'd it. [Going to draw the curtain.

Leon.
Do not draw the curtain.

Paul.
No longer shall you gaze on't, lest your fancy
May think anon it moves.

Leon.
Let be, let be.
Would I were dead, but that methinks, already,
I am but dead, stone looking upon stone:^{6 note}
What was he that did make it?—See, my lord,
Would you not deem, it breath'd? and that those veins
Did verily bear blood?

Pol.
Masterly done:
The very life seems warm upon her lip.

Leon.
The fixure of her eye has motion in't,
As we are mock'd with art.

Paul.
I'll draw the curtain;
My lord's almost so far transported, that
He'll think anon it lives.

Leon.
Make me to think so twenty years together;
No settled senses of the world can match
The pleasure of that madness. Let't alone.

Paul.
I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr'd you: but
I could afflict you further.

Leon.
Do, Paulina;
For this affliction has a taste as sweet
As any cordial comfort.—Still, methinks,
There is an air comes from her: What fine chisel

Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me,
For I will kiss her.

Paul.
Good my lord, forbear:
The ruddiness upon her lip is wet;
You'll mar it, if you kiss it: Shall I draw the curtain?

Leon.
No, not these twenty years.

Per.
So long could I
Stand by, a looker-on.

Paul.
Either forbear,
Quit presently the chapel; or resolve you
For more amazement: If you can behold it,
I'll make the statue move indeed; descend,
And take you by the hand: but then you'll think
(Which I protest against,) I am assisted
By wicked powers.

Leon.
What you can make her do,
I am content to look on: what to speak,
I am content to hear; for 'tis as easy
To make her speak, as move.

Paul.
It is requir'd,
You do awake your faith: Then, all stand still;
Or those, that think it is unlawful business
I am about, let them depart.

Leon.
Proceed;
No foot shall stir.

Paul.
Music; awake her: strike.— [Music.
'Tis time; descend; be stone no more: approach;
Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come; [Hermione comes down from the pedestal.
Start not: her actions shall be holy, as,
You hear, my spell is lawful: Nay, present your hand.

Leon.
O, she's warm! [Embracing her.
If this be magic, let it be an art
Lawful as eating.

Pol.
She embraces him.

Cam.
She hangs about his neck;
If she pertain to life, let her speak too.

Pol.
Ay, and make't manifest where she has liv'd,
Or, how stol'n from the dead?

Paul.
Mark a little while.—
Please you to interpose, fair madam; kneel,
And pray your mother's blessing.—Turn, good lady;
Our Perdita is found. [Presenting Perdita who kneels to Hermione.

Her.
You gods, look down,
And from your sacred vials pour your graces^{7 note}
Upon my daughter's head!—Tell me, mine own,
Where hast thou been preserv'd? where liv'd? how found
Thy father's court? for thou shalt hear, that I,—
Knowing by Paulina, that the oracle
Gave hope thou wast in being,—have preserv'd myself,
To see the issue.

Paul.
There's time enough for that;
Lest they desire, upon this push, to trouble
Your joys with like relation.—Go together,
You precious winners all;^{8 note} your exultation
Partake to every one.^{9 note}

Leon.
Let's from this place.—
What?—Look upon my brother:—both your pardons,
That e'er I put between your holy looks
My ill suspicion.—This your son-in-law,
And son unto the king, (whom heavens directing,)
Is troth-plight to your daughter.—Good Paulina,
Lead us from hence; where we may leisurely
Each one demand, and answer to his part
Perform'd in this wide gap of time, since first
We were dissever'd: Hastily lead way. [Exeunt. END OF ACT FIFTH.

Previous section

Next section