THE WINTER'S TALE. Sidney Lee

To take off so much grief from you as he

       Will piece up in himself.

       PAULINA

       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.

       LEONTES

       Do not draw the curtain.

       PAULINA

       No longer shall you gaze on’t; lest your fancy

       May think anon it moves.

       LEONTES

       Let be, let be.—

       Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already—

       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?

       POLIXENES

       Masterly done:

       The very life seems warm upon her lip.

       LEONTES

       The fixture of her eye has motion in’t,

       As we are mock’d with art.

       PAULINA

       I’ll draw the curtain:

       My lord’s almost so far transported that

       He’ll think anon it lives.

       LEONTES

       O sweet Paulina,

       Make me to think so twenty years together!

       No settled senses of the world can match

       The pleasure of that madness. Let’t alone.

       PAULINA

       I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr’d you: but

       I could afflict you further.

       LEONTES

       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!

       PAULINA

       Good my lord, forbear:

       The ruddiness upon her lip is wet;

       You’ll mar it if you kiss it; stain your own

       With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?

       LEONTES

       No, not these twenty years.

       PERDITA

       So long could I

       Stand by, a looker on.

       PAULINA

       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.

       LEONTES

       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.

       PAULINA

       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.

       LEONTES

       Proceed:

       No foot shall stir.

       PAULINA

       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 in age

       Is she become the suitor?

       LEONTES

       [Embracing her.] O, she’s warm!

       If this be magic, let it be an art

       Lawful as eating.

       POLIXENES

       She embraces him.

       CAMILLO

       She hangs about his neck:

       If she pertain to life, let her speak too.

       POLIXENES

       Ay, and make it manifest where she has liv’d,

       Or how stol’n from the dead.

       PAULINA

       That she is living,

       Were it but told you, should be hooted at

       Like an old tale; but it appears she lives,

       Though yet she speak not. 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.]

       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,—

       Knowing by Paulina that the oracle

       Gave hope thou wast in being,—have preserv’d

       Myself to see the issue.

       PAULINA

       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; your exultation

       Partake to every one. I, an old turtle,

       Will wing me to some wither’d bough, and there

       My mate, that’s never to be found again,

       Lament till I am lost.

       LEONTES

       O peace, Paulina!

       Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent,