You have paid home: but that you have vouchsaf'd, We honour you with trouble: But we came To see the statue of our queen: your gallery That which my daughter came to look upon, PAUL. As she liv'd peerless, 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, 't is 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. LEON. POL. O, not by much. PAUL. So much the more our carver's excellence; LEON. As now she might have done, If I had thought the sight of my poor image LEON. Do not draw the curtain. PAUL. No longer shall you gaze on 't; lest your fancy LEON. POL. Let be, let be. Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already a What was he that did make it ?-See, my lord, Would you not deem it breath'd? and that those veins Masterly done: a Tieck understands this-" Would I were dead," if that could reanimate Hermione-" but that -methinks-already"-the sculptor has done it-made her breathe-given her motion-" what was he that did make it?" It is scarcely necessary to conjecture how Leontes would have closed the sentence: for the abrupt breaking off is one of those touches of nature with which Shak spere knew how to give passion an eloquence beyond words. PAUL. That she is living, HER. [Embracing her. [Presenting PER., who kneels to HER. 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 PAUL. There's time enough for that; Will wing me to some wither'd bough, and there 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, By us, a pair of kings.-Let's from this place.- My ill suspicion. This your son-in-law, And son unto the king, (whom heavens directing,) We were dissever'd: Hastily lead away. Is she become the suitor!"-Act V., Sc. 3.] [Exeunt. |