The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

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 seasick, 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 gentlemanlike 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