queen's picture. Come, follow us: we'll be thy good masters. The same. SCENE III. [Exeunt. A Room in PAULINA'S House. 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 That which my daughter came to look upon, Paul. As she liv'd peerless, So her dead likeness, I do well believe, Excels whatever yet you look'd upon, Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it 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.-But yet, Paulina, Hermione was not so much wrinkled; nothing O, not by much. So aged, as this seems. Pol. Paul. So much the more our carver's excellence; Which lets go by some sixteen years, and makes her As she liv'd now. Leon. As now she might have done, Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood, Per. And give me leave; And do not say, 'tis superstition, that I kneel, and then implore her blessing.-Lady, Paul. O, patience, The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour's Not dry. Cam. My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on ; Which sixteen winters cannot blow away, So many summers, dry: scarce any joy Did ever so long live; no sorrow, But kill'd itself much sooner. Pol. Dear my brother, Let him, that was the cause of this, have power Paul. Indeed, my lord, If I had thought, the sight of my poor image Would thus have wrought you, (for the stone is mine,) I'd not have show'd it. Leon. Do not draw the curtain. Paul. No longer shall you gaze on't; lest your fancy May think anon, it moves. G Leon. Let be, let be. Would I were dead, but that methinks already- Would you not deem, it breath'd? and that those veins Pol. The very Masterly done: life seems warm upon her lip. Leon. The fixture 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 Leon. 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 Paul. Good my lord, forbear; The ruddiness upon her lip is wet; You'll mar it, if you kiss it; stain your own Per. Stand by, a looker on. So long could I Either forbear, By wicked powers. i Leon. What you can make her do, am content to look on: what to speak, I am content to hear; for 'tis as easy 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. No foot shall stir. Proceed; Paul. Music; awake her: strike [Music. "Tis time; descend; be stone no more: approach; Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come; I'll fill your grave up: stir; nay, come away; Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him Dear life redeems you. You perceive, she stirs: [Hermione comes down from the Pedestal. Start not: her actions shall be holy, as, You hear, my spell is lawful: do not shun her, Until you see her die again; for then You kill her double: Nay, present your hand: When she was young, you woo'd her; now, Is she become the suitor. in age, 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. That she is living, Were it but told you, should be hooted at And pray your mother's blessing.-Turn, good lady; Her. [Presenting Perdita, who kneels to Hermione. You gods, look down, And from your sacred vials pour your graces 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,— Gave hope thou wast in being,-have preserv'd Paul. Will wing me to some wither'd bough; and there Lament till I am lost. Leon. O peace, Paulina; Thou should'st a husband take by my consent, And made between's by vows. Thou hast found mine; As I thought, dead; and have, in vain, said many A prayer upon her grave: I'll not seek far (For him, I partly know his mind,) to find thee An honourable husband :-Come, Camillo, And take her by the hand: whose worth, and honesty, By us, a pair of kings.-Let's from this place.- My ill suspicion. This your son-in-law, [Exeunt. This play, as Dr. Warburton justly observes, is, with all its absurdities, very entertaining. The character of Autolycus is naturally conceived, and strongly represented. JOHNSON. |