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Give me that hand of yours, to kiss.

Paul. O, patience;

The statue is but newly fix'd, the colour's

Not dry.

Cam. 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.

Pol. Dear my brother,

Let him, that was the cause of this, have power
To take off so much grief from you, as he
Will piece up in himself.

Paul. 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.

Leon. Do not draw the curtain.

Paul. No longer shall you gaze on't; lest your fancy May think anon, it moves.

Leon. 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?

Pol. Masterly done:

The very life seems warm upon

her lip.

Leon. The fixure of her eye has motion in't,

As we are mock'd with art.

Paul. I'll draw the curtain;

My lord's almost so far transported, that

He'll think anon, it lives.

Leon. 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.

Paul. I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr'd you: but I could afflict you further.

Leon. 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 chizzel

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; stain your own
With oily painting: Shall I draw the curtain ?
Leon. No, not these twenty years.

Per. So long could I
Stand by, a looker on.

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,
(Which I protest against,) 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 'tis as easy

To make her speak, as move.

Paul. 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.

Leon. Proceed;

No foot shall stir.

Paul. Musick; awake her: strike.

[Musick.

'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.

Leon. O, she's warm!

If this be magick, let it be an art

Lawful as eating.

Pol. She embraces him.

Cam. She hangs about his neck;

If she pertain to life, let her speak too.

[Embracing her.

Pol. Ay, and make't manifest where she has liv'd,

Or, how stolen from the dead?

Paul. 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;

3

Our Perdita is found.

[Presenting PERDITA, who kneels to HERMIONE.

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
Myself, to see the issue.

Paul. 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.

Leon. O peace, Paulina;

Thou should'st 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.

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