'Pray, my good friend,' said the king to the old shepherd, 'what fair
swain is that talking with your daughter?' 'They call him Doricles,'
replied the shepherd. 'He says he loves my daughter; and, to speak
truth, there is not a kiss to choose which loves the other best. If
young Doricles can get her, she shall bring him that he little dreams
of'; meaning the remainder of Perdita's jewels; which, after he had
bought herds of sheep with part of them, he had carefully hoarded up
for her marriage portion.
Polixenes then addressed his son. 'How now, young man!' said he: 'your
heart seems full of something that takes off your mind from feasting.
When I was young, I used to load my love with presents; but you have
let the pedlar go, and have bought your lass no toy.'
The young prince, who little thought he was talking to the king his
father, replied: 'Old sir, she prizes not such trifles; the gifts which
Perdita expects from me are locked up in my heart.' Then turning to
Perdita, he said to her: 'O hear me, Perdita, before this ancient
gentleman, who it seems was once himself a lover; he shall hear what I
profess.' Florizel then called upon the old stranger to be a witness to
a solemn promise of marriage which he made to Perdita, saying to
Polixenes: 'I pray you, mark our contract.'
'Mark your divorce, young sir,' said the king, discovering himself.
Polixenes then reproached his son for daring to contract himself to
this low-born maiden, calling Perdita 'shepherd's brat, sheep-hook,'
and other disrespectful names; and threatening, if ever she suffered
his son to see her again, he would put her, and the old shepherd her
father, to a cruel death.
The king then left them in great wrath, and ordered Camillo to follow
him with prince Florizel.
When the king had departed, Perdita, whose royal nature was roused by
Polixenes' reproaches, said: 'Though we are all undone, I was not much
afraid; and once or twice I was about to speak, and tell him plainly
that the selfsame sun which shines upon his palace, hides not his face
from our cottage, but looks on both alike.' Then sorrowfully she said:
'But now I am awakened from this dream, I will queen it no further.
Leave me, sir; I will go milk my ewes and weep.'
The kind-hearted Camillo was charmed with the spirit and propriety of
Perdita's behaviour; and perceiving that the young prince was too
deeply in love to give up his mistress at the command of his royal
father, he thought of a way to befriend the lovers, and at the same
time to execute a favourite scheme he had in his mind.
Camillo had long known that Leontes, the king of Sicily, was become a
true penitent; and though Camillo was now the favoured friend of king
Polixenes, he could not help wishing once more to see his late royal
master and his native home. He therefore proposed to Florizel and
Perdita that they should accompany him to the Sicilian court, where he
would engage Leontes should protect them, till, through his mediation,
they could obtain pardon from Polixenes, and his consent to their
marriage.
To this proposal they joyfully agreed; and Camillo, who conducted
everything relative to their flight, allowed the old shepherd to go
along with them.
The shepherd took with him the remainder of Perdita's jewels, her baby
clothes, and the paper which he had found pinned to her mantle.
After a prosperous voyage, Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the old
shepherd, arrived in safety at the court of Leontes. Leontes, who still
mourned his dead Hermione and his lost child, received Camillo with
great kindness, and gave a cordial welcome to prince Florizel. But
Perdita, whom Florizel introduced as his princess, seemed to engross
all Leontes' attention: perceiving a resemblance between her and his
dead queen Hermione, his grief broke out afresh, and he said, such a
lovely creature might his own daughter have been, if he had not so
cruelly destroyed her. 'And then, too,' said he to Florizel, 'I lost
the society and friendship of your grave father, whom I now desire more
than my life once again to look upon.'
When the old shepherd heard how much notice the king had taken of
Perdita, and that he had lost a daughter, who was exposed in infancy,
he fell to comparing the time when he found the little Perdita, with
the manner of its exposure, the jewels and other tokens of its high
birth; from all which it was impossible for him not to conclude that
Perdita and the king's lost daughter were the same.
Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the faithful Paulina, were present
when the old shepherd related to the king the manner in which he had
found the child, and also the circumstance of Antigonus' death, he
having seen the bear seize upon him. He showed the rich mantle in which
Paulina remembered Hermione had wrapped the child; and he produced a
jewel which she remembered Hermione had tied about Perdita's neck, and
he gave up the paper which Paulina knew to be the writing of her
husband; it could not be doubted that Perdita was Leontes' own
daughter: but oh! the noble struggles of Paulina, between sorrow for
her husband's death, and joy that the oracle was fulfilled, in the
king's heir, his long-lost daughter being found. When Leontes heard
that Perdita was his daughter, the great sorrow that he felt that
Hermione was not living to behold her child, made him that he could say
nothing for a long time, but 'O thy mother, thy mother!'
Paulina interrupted this joyful yet distressful scene, with saying to
Leontes, that she had a statue newly finished by that rare Italian
master, Julio Romano, which was such a perfect resemblance of the
queen, that would his majesty be pleased to go to her house and look
upon it, he would be almost ready to think it was Hermione herself.
Thither then they all went; the king anxious to see the semblance of
his Hermione, and Perdita longing to behold what the mother she never
saw did look like.
When Paulina drew back the curtain which concealed this famous statue,
so perfectly did it resemble Hermione, that all the king's sorrow was
renewed at the sight: for a long time he had no power to speak or move.
'I like your silence, my liege,' said Paulina, 'it the more shows your
wonder. Is not this statue very like your queen?'
At length the king said: 'O, thus she stood, even with such majesty,
when I first wooed her. But yet, Paulina, Hermione was not so aged as
this statue looks.' Paulina replied: 'So much the more the carver's
excellence, who has made the statue as Hermione would have looked had
she been living now. But let me draw the curtain, sire, lest presently
you think it moves.'
The king then said: 'Do not draw the curtain; would I were dead! See,
Camillo, would you not think it breathed? Her eye seems to have motion
in it.' 'I must draw the curtain, my liege,' said Paulina. 'You are so
transported, you will persuade yourself the statue lives.' 'O, sweet
Paulina,' said Leontes, 'make me think so twenty years together! 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.' 'Good my
lord, forbear!' said Paulina. 'The ruddiness upon her lip is wet; you
will stain your own with oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?' 'No,
not these twenty years,' said Leontes.
Perdita, who all this time had been kneeling, and beholding in silent
admiration the statue of her matchless mother, said now: 'And so long
could I stay here, looking upon my dear mother.'
'Either forbear this transport,' said Paulina to Leontes, 'and let me
draw the curtain; or prepare yourself for more amazement. I can make
the statue move indeed; ay, and descend from off the pedestal, and take
you by the hand. But then you will think, which I protest I am not,
that I am assisted by some wicked powers.'
'What you can make her do,' said the astonished king, 'I am content to
hear; for it is as easy to make her speak as move.'
Paulina then ordered some slow and solemn music, which she had prepared
for the purpose, to strike up; and, to the amazement of all the
beholders, the statue came down from off the pedestal, and threw its
arms around Leontes' neck. The statue then began to speak, praying for
blessings on her husband, and on her child, the newly-found Perdita.
No wonder that the statue hung upon Leontes' neck, and blessed her
husband and her child. No wonder; for the statue was indeed Hermione
herself, the real, the living queen.
Paulina had falsely reported to the king the death of Hermione,
thinking that the only means to preserve her royal mistress's life; and
with the good Paulina, Hermione had lived ever since, never choosing
Leontes should know she was living, till she heard Perdita was found;
for though she had long forgiven the injuries which Leontes had done to
herself, she could not pardon his cruelty to his infant daughter.
His dead queen thus restored to life, his lost daughter found, the
long-sorrowing Leontes could scarcely support the excess of his own
happiness.
Nothing but congratulations and affectionate speeches were heard on all
sides. Now the delighted parents thanked prince Florizel for loving
their lowly-seeming daughter; and now they blessed the good old
shepherd for preserving their child. Greatly did Camillo and Paulina
rejoice that they had lived to see so good an end of all their faithful
services.
And as if nothing should be wanting to complete this strange and
unlooked-for joy, king Polixenes himself now entered the palace.
When Polixenes first missed his son and Camillo, knowing that Camillo
had long wished to return to Sicily, he conjectured he should find the
fugitives here; and, following them with all speed, he happened to just
arrive at this, the happiest moment of Leontes' life.
Polixenes took a part in the general joy; he forgave his friend Leontes
the unjust jealousy he had conceived against him, and they once more
loved each other with all the warmth of their first boyish friendship.
And there was no fear that Polixenes would now oppose his son's
marriage with Perdita. She was no 'sheep-hook' now, but the heiress of
the crown of Sicily.
Thus have we seen the patient virtues of the long-suffering Hermione
rewarded. That excellent lady lived many years with her Leontes and her
Perdita, the happiest of mothers and of queens.