No 'settled senses of the world can match

The pleasure of 'that madness. . . . 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!

Paul.

Good my lord, forbear.
The ruddiness upon her lip is 'wet:

You'll mar it, if you kiss it. 'Shall I draw the cur

tain?

Leon. No, not these twenty years!

Paul.

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
I am assisted by 'wicked powers.

Leon. What you can make her 'do,

I am content to look on: what to 'speak,
I am content to 'hear; for 't is as easy

To make her 'speak, as move.

Paul.

You do awake your 'faith.

It is required

Then, all stand still;

Or, those that think it is 'unlawful business,

Let them depart.- Music, awake her! strike!— [Music. "T is time; descend! be 'stone no more: approach;

Strike all that look-upon with marvel! Come!

In the midst of solemn music, the Statue slowly descends-and embraces Leontes!-It is Hermione-the real, living Queen! Perdita and Florizel kneel. The voice of the rejoicing mother is prayerfully heard invoking a blessing on them:

Her. You gods, look down,

And from your sacred vials pour your graces
Upon my daughter's head!

Much remains to be explained, but all are reconciled. The marriage of Prince Florizel and the Princess Perdita is to be at once celebrated.-Leontes and Polixenes are again friends and brothersand the kindly Lord Camillo is to be rewarded with a worthy and wealthy wife-Paulina, the widow of Antigonus:

Leon.

Good Paulina,

Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely
Each one 'demand, and answer, to his part
Performed in this wide gap of time, since first
We were dissevered: Hastily lead away.

END OF THE WINTER'S TALE.

a O. R. on,

[Exeunt.