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The Winter's Tale

Chapter 14: SCENE II. Sicilia. Before the palace of LEONTES
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About This Book

A ruling monarch becomes consumed by unfounded jealousy toward his queen and a close friend, which shatters his family and court. His suspicions produce exile, death, and the abandonment of a newborn daughter, who is raised in pastoral obscurity. Years later her true identity emerges through a cross‑courtship, prompting reckonings across kingdoms. The play moves from courtly tragedy to rural comedy and culminates in remorse, reconciliation, and an uncanny restoration that reunites estranged figures. Themes include the corrosive power of suspicion, the possibility of repentance and forgiveness, and the contrast between courtly decay and pastoral renewal.

FLORIZEL and AUTOLYCUS exchange garments

    Fortunate mistress- let my prophecy
    Come home to ye!- you must retire yourself
    Into some covert; take your sweetheart's hat
    And pluck it o'er your brows, muffle your face,
    Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken
    The truth of your own seeming, that you may-
    For I do fear eyes over- to shipboard
    Get undescried.
  PERDITA. I see the play so lies
    That I must bear a part.
  CAMILLO. No remedy.
    Have you done there?
  FLORIZEL. Should I now meet my father,
    He would not call me son.
  CAMILLO. Nay, you shall have no hat.
                                          [Giving it to PERDITA]
    Come, lady, come. Farewell, my friend.
  AUTOLYCUS. Adieu, sir.
  FLORIZEL. O Perdita, what have we twain forgot!
    Pray you a word. [They converse apart]
  CAMILLO. [Aside] What I do next shall be to tell the King
    Of this escape, and whither they are bound;
    Wherein my hope is I shall so prevail
    To force him after; in whose company
    I shall re-view Sicilia, for whose sight
    I have a woman's longing.
  FLORIZEL. Fortune speed us!
    Thus we set on, Camillo, to th' sea-side.
  CAMILLO. The swifter speed the better.
                           Exeunt FLORIZEL, PERDITA, and CAMILLO
  AUTOLYCUS. I understand the business, I hear it. To have an open
    ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand, is necessary for a
    cut-purse; a good nose is requisite also, to smell out work for
    th' other senses. I see this is the time that the unjust man doth
    thrive. What an exchange had this been without boot! What a boot
    is here with this exchange! Sure, the gods do this year connive
    at us, and we may do anything extempore. The Prince himself is
    about a piece of iniquity- stealing away from his father with his
    clog at his heels. If I thought it were a piece of honesty to
    acquaint the King withal, I would not do't. I hold it the more
    knavery to conceal it; and therein am I constant to my profession.

Re-enter CLOWN and SHEPHERD

Aside, aside- here is more matter for a hot brain. Every lane's end, every shop, church, session, hanging, yields a careful man work. CLOWN. See, see; what a man you are now! There is no other way but to tell the King she's a changeling and none of your flesh and blood. SHEPHERD. Nay, but hear me. CLOWN. Nay- but hear me. SHEPHERD. Go to, then. CLOWN. She being none of your flesh and blood, your flesh and blood has not offended the King; and so your flesh and blood is not to be punish'd by him. Show those things you found about her, those secret things- all but what she has with her. This being done, let the law go whistle; I warrant you. SHEPHERD. I will tell the King all, every word- yea, and his son's pranks too; who, I may say, is no honest man, neither to his father nor to me, to go about to make me the King's brother-in-law. CLOWN. Indeed, brother-in-law was the farthest off you could have been to him; and then your blood had been the dearer by I know how much an ounce. AUTOLYCUS. [Aside] Very wisely, puppies! SHEPHERD. Well, let us to the King. There is that in this fardel will make him scratch his beard. AUTOLYCUS. [Aside] I know not what impediment this complaint may be to the flight of my master. CLOWN. Pray heartily he be at palace. AUTOLYCUS. [Aside] Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance. Let me pocket up my pedlar's excrement. [Takes off his false beard] How now, rustics! Whither are you bound? SHEPHERD. To th' palace, an it like your worship. AUTOLYCUS. Your affairs there, what, with whom, the condition of that fardel, the place of your dwelling, your names, your ages, of what having, breeding, and anything that is fitting to be known- discover. CLOWN. We are but plain fellows, sir. AUTOLYCUS. A lie: you are rough and hairy. Let me have no lying; it becomes none but tradesmen, and they often give us soldiers the lie; but we pay them for it with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; therefore they do not give us the lie. CLOWN. Your worship had like to have given us one, if you had not taken yourself with the manner. SHEPHERD. Are you a courtier, an't like you, sir? AUTOLYCUS. Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. Seest thou not the air of the court in these enfoldings? Hath not my gait in it the measure of the court? Receives not thy nose court-odour from me? Reflect I not on thy baseness court-contempt? Think'st thou, for that I insinuate, that toaze from thee thy business, I am therefore no courtier? I am courtier cap-a-pe, and one that will either push on or pluck back thy business there; whereupon I command the to open thy affair. SHEPHERD. My business, sir, is to the King. AUTOLYCUS. What advocate hast thou to him? SHEPHERD. I know not, an't like you. CLOWN. Advocate's the court-word for a pheasant; say you have none. SHEPHERD. None, sir; I have no pheasant, cock nor hen. AUTOLYCUS. How blessed are we that are not simple men! Yet nature might have made me as these are, Therefore I will not disdain. CLOWN. This cannot be but a great courtier. SHEPHERD. His garments are rich, but he wears them not handsomely. CLOWN. He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical. A great man, I'll warrant; I know by the picking on's teeth. AUTOLYCUS. The fardel there? What's i' th' fardel? Wherefore that box? SHEPHERD. Sir, there lies such secrets in this fardel and box which none must know but the King; and which he shall know within this hour, if I may come to th' speech of him. AUTOLYCUS. Age, thou hast lost thy labour. SHEPHERD. Why, Sir? AUTOLYCUS. The King is not at the palace; he is gone aboard a new ship to purge melancholy and air himself; for, if thou be'st capable of things serious, thou must know the King is full of grief. SHEPHERD. So 'tis said, sir- about his son, that should have married a shepherd's daughter. AUTOLYCUS. If that shepherd be not in hand-fast, let him fly; the curses he shall have, the tortures he shall feel, will break the back of man, the heart of monster. CLOWN. Think you so, sir? AUTOLYCUS. Not he alone shall suffer what wit can make heavy and vengeance bitter; but those that are germane to him, though remov'd fifty times, shall all come under the hangman- which, though it be great pity, yet it is necessary. An old sheep-whistling rogue, a ram-tender, to offer to have his daughter come into grace! Some say he shall be ston'd; but that death is too soft for him, say I. Draw our throne into a sheep-cote!- all deaths are too few, the sharpest too easy. CLOWN. Has the old man e'er a son, sir, do you hear, an't like you, sir? AUTOLYCUS. He has a son- who shall be flay'd alive; then 'nointed over with honey, set on the head of a wasp's nest; then stand till he be three quarters and a dram dead; then recover'd again with aqua-vitae or some other hot infusion; then, raw as he is, and in the hottest day prognostication proclaims, shall he be set against a brick wall, the sun looking with a southward eye upon him, where he is to behold him with flies blown to death. But what talk we of these traitorly rascals, whose miseries are to be smil'd at, their offences being so capital? Tell me, for you seem to be honest plain men, what you have to the King. Being something gently consider'd, I'll bring you where he is aboard, tender your persons to his presence, whisper him in your behalfs; and if it be in man besides the King to effect your suits, here is man shall do it. CLOWN. He seems to be of great authority. Close with him, give him gold; and though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft led by the nose with gold. Show the inside of your purse to the outside of his hand, and no more ado. Remember- ston'd and flay'd alive. SHEPHERD. An't please you, sir, to undertake the business for us, here is that gold I have. I'll make it as much more, and leave this young man in pawn till I bring it you. AUTOLYCUS. After I have done what I promised? SHEPHERD. Ay, sir. AUTOLYCUS. Well, give me the moiety. Are you a party in this business? CLOWN. In some sort, sir; but though my case be a pitiful one, I hope I shall not be flay'd out of it. AUTOLYCUS. O, that's the case of the shepherd's son! Hang him, he'll be made an example. CLOWN. Comfort, good comfort! We must to the King and show our strange sights. He must know 'tis none of your daughter nor my sister; we are gone else. Sir, I will give you as much as this old man does, when the business is performed; and remain, as he says, your pawn till it be brought you. AUTOLYCUS. I will trust you. Walk before toward the sea-side; go on the right-hand; I will but look upon the hedge, and follow you. CLOWN. We are blest in this man, as I may say, even blest. SHEPHERD. Let's before, as he bids us. He was provided to do us good. Exeunt SHEPHERD and CLOWN AUTOLYCUS. If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune would not suffer me: she drops booties in my mouth. I am courted now with a double occasion- gold, and a means to do the Prince my master good; which who knows how that may turn back to my advancement? I will bring these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him. If he think it fit to shore them again, and that the complaint they have to the King concerns him nothing, let him call me rogue for being so far officious; for I am proof against that title, and what shame else belongs to't. To him will I present them. There may be matter in it. Exit

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ACT V. SCENE I. Sicilia. The palace of LEONTES

Enter LEONTES, CLEOMENES, DION, PAULINA, and OTHERS

  CLEOMENES. 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, paid down
    More penitence than done trespass. At the last,
    Do as the heavens have done: forget your evil;
    With them forgive yourself.
  LEONTES. 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.
  PAULINA. 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.
  LEONTES. 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.
  CLEOMENES. 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.
  PAULINA. 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. What were more holy
    Than to rejoice the former queen is well?
    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?
  PAULINA. There is none worthy,
    Respecting her that's gone. Besides, the gods
    Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes;
    For has not the divine Apollo said,
    Is't not the tenour 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 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,
    Oppose against their wills. [To LEONTES] Care not for issue;
    The crown will find an heir. Great Alexander
    Left his to th' worthiest; so his successor
    Was like to be the best.
  LEONTES. 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-
  PAULINA. And left them
    More rich for what they yielded.
  LEONTES. 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 corpse, and on this stage,
    Where we offend her now, appear soul-vex'd,
    And begin 'Why to me'-
  PAULINA. Had she such power,
    She had just cause.
  LEONTES. She had; and would incense me
    To murder her I married.
  PAULINA. 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.'
  LEONTES. Stars, stars,
    And all eyes else dead coals! Fear thou no wife;
    I'll have no wife, Paulina.
  PAULINA. Will you swear
    Never to marry but by my free leave?
  LEONTES. Never, Paulina; so be blest my spirit!
  PAULINA. Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath.
  CLEOMENES. You tempt him over-much.
  PAULINA. Unless another,
    As like Hermione as is her picture,
    Affront his eye.
  CLEOMENES. Good madam-
  PAULINA. I have done.
    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.
  LEONTES. My true Paulina,
    We shall not marry till thou bid'st us.
  PAULINA. That
    Shall be when your first queen's again in breath;
    Never till then.

Enter a GENTLEMAN

  GENTLEMAN. One that gives out himself Prince Florizel,
    Son of Polixenes, with his princess- she
    The fairest I have yet beheld- desires access
    To your high presence.
  LEONTES. 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?
  GENTLEMAN. But few,
    And those but mean.
  LEONTES. His princess, say you, with him?
  GENTLEMAN. Ay; the most peerless piece of earth, I think,
    That e'er the sun shone bright on.
  PAULINA. O Hermione,
    As every present time doth boast itself
    Above a better gone, so must thy grave
    Give way to what's seen now! 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 equall'd.' Thus your verse
    Flow'd with her beauty once; 'tis shrewdly ebb'd,
    To say you have seen a better.
  GENTLEMAN. 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 proselytes
    Of who she but bid follow.
  PAULINA. How! not women?
  GENTLEMAN. Women will love her that she is a woman
    More worth than any man; men, that she is
    The rarest of all women.
  LEONTES. Go, Cleomenes;
    Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends,
    Bring them to our embracement. Exeunt
    Still, 'tis strange
    He thus should steal upon us.
  PAULINA. 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.
  LEONTES. Prithee 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.

         Re-enter CLEOMENES, with FLORIZEL, PERDITA, and
                            ATTENDANTS

    They are come.
    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 him.
  FLORIZEL. By his command
    Have I here touch'd Sicilia, and from him
    Give you all greetings that a king, at friend,
    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 bade me say so, more than all the sceptres
    And those that bear them living.
  LEONTES. 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 th' earth. And hath he too
    Expos'd this paragon to th' fearful usage,
    At least ungentle, of the dreadful Neptune,
    To greet a man not worth her pains, much less
    Th' adventure of her person?
  FLORIZEL. Good, my lord,
    She came from Libya.
  LEONTES. Where the warlike Smalus,
    That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd and lov'd?
  FLORIZEL. 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 Libya, sir,
    But my arrival and my wife's in safety
    Here where we are.
  LEONTES. 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 issueless; and your father's blest,
    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

  LORD. 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.
  LEONTES. Where's Bohemia? Speak.
  LORD. 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 chase, 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.
  FLORIZEL. Camillo has betray'd me;
    Whose honour and whose honesty till now
    Endur'd all weathers.
  LORD. Lay't so to his charge;
    He's with the King your father.
  LEONTES. Who? Camillo?
  LORD. 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.
  PERDITA. O my poor father!
    The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have
    Our contract celebrated.
  LEONTES. You are married?
  FLORIZEL. 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.
  LEONTES. My lord,
    Is this the daughter of a king?
  FLORIZEL. She is,
    When once she is my wife.
  LEONTES. 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 tied in duty; and as sorry
    Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,
    That you might well enjoy her.
  FLORIZEL. Dear, look up.
    Though Fortune, visible an enemy,
    Should chase us with my father, pow'r 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.
  LEONTES. Would he do so, I'd beg your precious mistress,
    Which he counts but a trifle.
  PAULINA. 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.
  LEONTES. I thought of her
    Even in these looks I made. [To FLORIZEL] But your petition
    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. Sicilia. Before the palace of LEONTES

Enter AUTOLYCUS and a GENTLEMAN

  AUTOLYCUS. Beseech you, sir, were you present at this relation?
  FIRST GENTLEMAN. 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.
  AUTOLYCUS. I would most gladly know the issue of it.
  FIRST GENTLEMAN. 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 destroyed. A notable passion of wonder
    appeared in them; but the wisest beholder that knew no more but
    seeing could not say if th' importance were joy or sorrow-but in
    the extremity of the one it must needs be.

Enter another GENTLEMAN

    Here comes a gentleman that happily knows more. The news, Rogero?
  SECOND GENTLEMAN. Nothing but bonfires. 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.

Enter another GENTLEMAN

    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 suspicion. Has the
    King found his heir?
  THIRD GENTLEMAN. Most true, if ever truth were pregnant by
    circumstance. That which you hear you'll swear you see, there is
    such unity in the proofs. The mantle of Queen Hermione's; 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 shows 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?
  SECOND GENTLEMAN. No.
  THIRD GENTLEMAN. Then you have 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 by like a
    weather-bitten conduit of many kings' reigns. I never heard of
    such another encounter, which lames report to follow it and
    undoes description to do it.
  SECOND GENTLEMAN. What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carried
    hence the child?
  THIRD GENTLEMAN. 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 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.
  FIRST GENTLEMAN. What became of his bark and his followers?
  THIRD GENTLEMAN. 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. 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 fulfill'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.
  FIRST GENTLEMAN. The dignity of this act was worth the audience of
    kings and princes; for by such was it acted.
  THIRD GENTLEMAN. One of the prettiest touches of all, and that
    which angl'd for mine eyes- caught the water, though not the
    fish- 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 attentivenes 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.
  FIRST GENTLEMAN. Are they returned to the court?
  THIRD GENTLEMAN. 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 he is
    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.
  SECOND GENTLEMAN. 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 removed house. Shall we
    thither, and with our company piece the rejoicing?
  FIRST GENTLEMAN. 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.
                                                Exeunt GENTLEMEN
  AUTOLYCUS. 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 fardel 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 remained 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.

Enter SHEPHERD and CLOWN

    Here come those I have done good to against my will, and already
    appearing in the blossoms of their fortune.
  SHEPHERD. Come, boy; I am past moe children, but thy sons and
    daughters will be all gentlemen born.
  CLOWN. You are well met, sir. You denied to fight with me this
    other day, because I was no gentleman born. See you these
    clothes? Say you see them not and think me still no gentleman
    born. You were best say these robes are not gentlemen born. Give
    me the lie, do; and try whether I am not now a gentleman born.
  AUTOLYCUS. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born.
  CLOWN. Ay, and have been so any time these four hours.
  SHEPHERD. And so have I, boy.
  CLOWN. So you have; but I was a gentleman born before my father;
    for the King's son took me by the hand and call'd me brother; and
    then the two kings call'd my father brother; and then the Prince,
    my brother, and the Princess, my sister, call'd my father father.
    And so we wept; and there was the first gentleman-like tears that
    ever we shed.
  SHEPHERD. We may live, son, to shed many more.
  CLOWN. Ay; or else 'twere hard luck, being in so preposterous
    estate as we are.
  AUTOLYCUS. I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all the faults I
    have committed to your worship, and to give me your good report
    to the Prince my master.
  SHEPHERD. Prithee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are
    gentlemen.
  CLOWN. Thou wilt amend thy life?
  AUTOLYCUS. Ay, an it like your good worship.
  CLOWN. Give me thy hand. I will swear to the Prince thou art as
    honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia.
  SHEPHERD. You may say it, but not swear it.
  CLOWN. Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? Let boors and franklins
    say it: I'll swear it.
  SHEPHERD. How if it be false, son?
  CLOWN. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear it in
    the behalf of his friend. And I'll swear to the Prince thou art a
    tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I
    know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt be
    drunk. But I'll swear it; and I would thou wouldst be a tall
    fellow of thy hands.
  AUTOLYCUS. I will prove so, sir, to my power.
  CLOWN. Ay, by any means, prove a tall fellow. If I do not wonder
    how thou dar'st venture to be drunk not being a tall fellow,
    trust me not. Hark! the kings and the princes, our kindred, are
    going to see the Queen's picture. Come, follow us; we'll be thy
    good masters. Exeunt

SCENE III. Sicilia. A chapel in PAULINA's house

Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, FLORIZEL, PERDITA, CAMILLO, PAULINA,
LORDS and ATTENDANTS

  LEONTES. O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort
    That I have had of thee!
  PAULINA. 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.
  LEONTES. O Paulina,
    We honour you with trouble; but we came
    To see the statue of our queen. Your gallery
    Have we pass'd 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.
  PAULINA. 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
    Lonely, apart. But 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 draws a curtain, and discovers HERMIONE
                                         standing like 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?
  LEONTES. 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
    So aged as this seems.
  POLIXENES. O, not by much!
  PAULINA. So much the more our carver's excellence,
    Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her
    As she liv'd now.
  LEONTES. As now she might have done,
    So much to my good comfort as it is
    Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood,
    Even with such life of majesty- warm life,
    As now it coldly stands- when first I woo'd her!
    I am asham'd. Does not the stone rebuke me
    For being more stone than it? O royal piece,
    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!
  PERDITA. And give me leave,
    And do not say 'tis superstition that
    I kneel, and then implore her blessing. Lady,
    Dear queen, that ended when I but began,
    Give me that hand of yours to kiss.
  PAULINA. O, patience!
    The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour's
    Not dry.
  CAMILLO. 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.
  POLIXENES. Dear my brother,
    Let him that was the cause of this have pow'r
    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 farther.
  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. 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.
  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,
    As I by thine a wife. This is a match,
    And made between's by vows. Thou hast found mine;
    But how, is to be question'd; for I saw her,
    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
    Is richly noted, and here justified
    By us, a pair of kings. 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 away. Exeunt

THE END

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End of Etext of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, The Winter's Tale