Cle.
Sir, you have done enough, and have perform'd
A saint-like sorrow: no fault could you make,
Which you have not redeem'd; indeed, pay'd down
More penitence, than done trespass: At the last,
Do, as the heavens have done; forget your evil;
With them, forgive yourself.

Leo.
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.

Pau.
True, too true, my lord:14Q0481
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.

Leo.
I think so. Kill'd!
She I kill'd! I did so: but thou strik'st me
Sorely, to say I did; it is as bitter
Upon thy tongue, as in my thought: Now, good now,
Say so but seldom.

Cle.
Not at all, good lady:
You might have spoke a thousand things, that would
Have done the time more benefit, and grac'd
Your kindness better.

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

Dio.
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. What were more holy,14Q0482
Than to rejoice the former queen? This will: ^note
What holier, than,—for royalty's repair,
For present comfort, and for future good,—
To bless the bed of majesty again
With a sweet fellow to't?

Pau.
There is none worthy,
Respecting her that's gone. Besides, the gods
Will have fulfill'd ^note their secret purposes:
For has not the divine Apollo said,

Is't not the tenor of his oracle,
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 ^note to break his grave,
And come again to me; who, on my life,
Did perish with the infant. 'Tis your counsel,
My lord should to the heavens be contrary, ^note
Oppose against their wills.—Care not for issue;
The crown will find an heir: Great Alexander
Left his to the worthiest; so his successor
Was like to be the best.

Leo.
Thou 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,—

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

Leo.
Thou speak'st truth.
No more such wives; therefore, no wife: one worse,
And better us'd, would make her sainted spirit
Again possess her corps; and, on this stage,
Where we offenders now appear, soul-vext
Begin, ^note And why to me?

Pau.
Had she such power,
She had just cause ^note.

Leo.
She had; and would incense me
To murther her I marry'd.

Pau.
I should so:
Were I the ghost that walk'd, I'd bid you, mark

Her eye; and tell me, for what dull part in't
You chose her: then I'd shriek, that even your ears
Should rift to hear me; and the words that follow'd
Should be, Remember mine.

Leo.
Stars, very stars;
And all eyes else, dead coals!—fear thou no wife;
I'll have no wife, Paulina.

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

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

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

Cle.
You tempt him over-much.

Pau.
Unless another,
As like Hermione as is her picture,
Affront his eye.

Cle.
Good madam,—

Pau.
I have done.14Q0483
Yet, if my lord will marry,—if you will, sir;
No remedy, but you will; 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.

Leo.
My true Paulina,
We shall not marry, 'till thou bid'st us.

Pau.
That
Shall be, when your first queen's again in breath;
Never till then. Enter a Gentleman.

Gen.
One that gives out himself prince Florizel;
Son of Polixenes, with his princess, (she
The fair'st I have yet beheld) desires access

To your high presence.

Leo.
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?

Gen.
But few,
And those but mean.

Leo.
His princess, say you, with him?

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

Pau.
O Hermione,
As every present time doth boast itself
Above a better, gone; so must thy grave
Give way to what's seen now. ^note Sir, you yourself
Have said, and writ so; but your writing now
Is colder than that theme: She had not been,
Nor was not to be equal'd,—thus your verse
Flow'd with her beauty once; 'tis shrewdly ebb'd,
To say, you have seen a better.

Gen.
Pardon, madam:
The one I have almost forgot; (your pardon)
The other, when she has obtain'd your eye,
Will have your tongue too. This is a creature,
Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal
Of all professors else; make proselites
Of who she but bid follow.

Pau.
How? not women?

Gen.
Women will love her, that she is a woman
More worth than any man; men, that she is
The rarest of all women.

Leo.
Go, Cleomenes;

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

Pau.
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.

Leo.
Pr'ythee, no more; cease; 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.—They are come.— Re-enter Cleomenes, &c. with Florizel, and Perdita.
Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince;
For she did print your royal father off,
Conceiving you: Were I but twenty one,
Your father's image is so hit in you,
His very air, that I should call you brother,
As I did him; and speak of something, wildly
By us perform'd before. Most dearly welcome;—
And your fair princess, Goddess!—O, alas,
I lost a couple, that 'twixt 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 on.14Q0484

Flo.
Sir, by his command
Have I here touch'd Sicilia; and from him

Give you all greetings, that a king, at friend ^note,
Can send his brother: and, but infirmity
(Which waits upon worn times) hath something seiz'd
His wish'd ability, he had himself
The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his
Measur'd, to look upon you; whom he loves
(He bad me say so) more than all the scepters,
And those that bear them, living.

Leo.
O my brother,
(Good gentleman) the wrongs, I have done thee, stir
Afresh within me; and these thy offices,
So rarely kind, are as interpreters
Of my behind-hand slackness!—Welcome hither,
As is the spring to the earth. And hath he too
Expos'd this paragon to the fearful usage
(At least, ungentle) of the dreadful Neptune,
To greet a man, not worth her pains; much less
The adventure of her person?

Flo.
Good my lord,
She came from Libia ^note.

Leo.
Where the warlike Smalus,
That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd, and lov'd?

Flo.
Most royal sir, from thence; from him, whose daughter
His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her: thence
(A prosperous south-wind friendly) we have cross'd,
To execute the charge my father gave me,
For visiting your highness: My best train
I have from your Sicilian shores dismiss'd;
Who for Bohemia bend, to signify
Not only my success in Libia ^note, sir,
But my arrival, and my wife's, in safety

Here, where we happily are.

Leo.
The blessed gods
Purge all infection from our air, whilst you
Do climate here! You have a holy father,
A graceful gentleman; against whose person,
So sacred as it is, I have done sin:
For which the heavens, taking angry note,
Have left me issue-less; 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 a Lord.

Lor.
Most noble sir,
That, which I shall report, will bear no credit,
Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir,
Bohemia 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.

Leo.
Where's Bohemia? speak.

Lor.
Here in your city; I now came from him:
I speak amazedly; and it becomes
My marvel, and my message. To your court
Whiles he was hast'ning, (in the chace, it seems,
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.

Lor.
Lay't so, to his charge;
He's with the king your father.

Leo.
Who? Camillo?

Lor.
Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who now
Has these poor men in question. Never saw I
Wretches so quake: they kneel, they kiss the earth;
Forswear themselves as often as they speak:
Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them
With divers deaths in death.

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

Leo.
You are marry'd?

Flo.
We are not, sir, nor are we like to be;
The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first:—
The odds for high and low's alike.

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

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

Leo.
That once, I see, by your good father's speed,
Will come on very slowly. I am sorry,
Most sorry, you have broken from his liking,
Where you were ty'd in duty: and as sorry,
Your choice is not so rich in worth ^note, as beauty,
That you might well enjoy her.

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

Than I do now: with thought of such affections,
Step forth mine advocate; at your request,
My father will grant precious things, as trifles.

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

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

Leo.
I thought of her,
Even in these ^note looks I made.—But your petition
Is yet unanswer'd: I will to your father;
Your honour not o'er-thrown 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 same. Before the Palace. Enter Autolicus, and a Gentleman.

Aut.

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

1. G.

I was by at the opening of the farthel, 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.

Aut.

I would most gladly know the issue of it.

1. G.

I make a broken delivery of the business;— But the changes I perceived in the king, and Camillo, were very notes of admiration: they seem'd almost, with staring on one another, to tear the cases of their eyes;

there was speech in their dumbness, language in their very gesture; they look'd, as they had heard of a world ransom'd, or one destroy'd: A notable passion of wonder appeared in them: but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but seeing, could not say, if the importance were joy, or sorrow; but in the extremity of the one, it must needs be.

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

2. G.

Nothing but bonfires: The oracle is fulfil'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.

Here comes the lady Paulina's steward, he can deliver you more.—How goes it now, sir? this news (which is call'd true) is so like an old tale, that the verity of it is in strong suspition: Has the king found his heir?

3. G.

Most true; if ever truth were pregnant by circumstances: ^note that, which you hear, you'll swear, you see; there is such unity in the proofs. The mantle of queen Hermione's; ^note 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; the affection of nobleness, which nature shews above her breeding, and many other evidences, proclaim her, with all certainty, to be the king's daughter. Did you see the meeting of the two kings?

2. G.

No.

3. G.

Then have you lost a sight, which was to be

seen, cannot be spoken of. There might you have beheld one joy crown another; so, and in such manner, that, it seem'd, sorrow wept to take leave of them; for their joy waded in tears. There was casting up of eyes, holding up of hands; with countenance of such distraction, that they were to be known by garment, not by favour. Our king, being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found daughter; as if that joy were now become a loss, cries, O, thy mother, thy mother! then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then embraces his son-in-law; then, again, worries he his daughter, with clipping her: now he thanks the old shepherd; which stands ^note by, like a weather-beaten ^note conduit of many kings' reigns. I never heard of such another encounter; which lames report to follow it, and undoes description to do it. ^note

2. G.

What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carry'd hence the child?

3. G.

Like an old tale still; which will have matter to rehearse, though credit be asleep, and not an ear open: He was torn to pieces with a ^note 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.

1. G.

What became of his bark, and his followers?

3. G.

Wreckt, 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. But, o, the noble combat, that, 'twixt joy and sorrow, was fought in Paulina! She had one eye declin'd, for the loss of her husband; another elevated, that the oracle was fulfil'd:

She lifted the princess from the earth; and so locks her in embracing, as if she would pin her to her heart, that she might no more be in danger of losing.

1. G.

The dignity of this act was worth the audience of kings and princes; for by such was it acted.

3. G.

One of the prettiest touches of all, and that which angl'd for mine eyes, (caught the water, though not the fish)14Q0485 was, when at the relation of the queen's death, with the manner how she came to't, (bravely confess'd, and lamented, by the king) how attentiveness wounded his daughter: 'till, from one sign of dolour to another, she did, with an, alas, I would fain say, bleed tears; for, I am sure, my heart wept blood. Who was most marble there, changed colour; some swooned, all sorrowed: if all the world could have seen't, the woe had been universal.

1. G.

Are they return'd to the court?

3. G.

No: The princess hearing of her mother's statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina,—a piece many years in doing, and now newly perform'd, by that rare Italian master, Julio Romano; who, had he himself eternity, and could put breath into his work, would beguile nature of her custom, so perfectly is he her ape: he so near to Hermione hath done Hermione, that, they say, one would speak to her, and stand in hope of answer:—thither, with all greediness of affection, are they gone; and there they intend to sup.

2. G.

I thought, she had some great matter there in hand; for she hath privately, twice or thrice a day, ever since the death of Hermione, visited that remov'd

house. Shall we thither, and with our company piece the rejoicing?

1. G.

Who would be thence, that has the benefit of access? every wink of an eye, some new grace will be born: our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge. Let's along.

Aut.

Now, had I not the dash of my former life in me, would preferment drop on my head. I brought the old man and his son aboard the prince; told him, I heard them talk of a farthel, and I know not what: but he at that time over-fond of the shepherd's daughter, (so he then took her to be) who began to be much sea-sick, and himself little better, extremity of weather continuing, this mystery remain'd undiscover'd. But 'tis all one to me: for had I been the finder-out of this secret, it would not have relish'd among my other discredits.