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Standing like stone with thee.

Per. And give me leave,
And do not say 'tis superstition, that
I kneel, and then implore her blefling.-Lady,
Dear Queen, that ended when I but began,
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 forrow was too sore laid on,
Which fixteen winters cannot blow away,

summers dry : scarce any joy Did ever so long live; no sorrow, But kill'd itself much fooner.

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 fight of my poor image
Would thus have wrought you, (for the stone is mine,)
I'd not have shew'd it.

Leo. Do not draw the curtain.

Paul. No longer shall you gaze on't, left your fancy May think anon, it move.

Leo. 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.

Leo. The fixure of her eye has motion in't,
As we were mock'd with art.

Paul. I'll draw the curtain.
My Lord's almost so far transported, that
He'll think anon, it lives.

Leo. O sweet Paulina,
Make me to think so twenty years together :
Vo lettled senses of the world can match


The pleasure of that madness. Let't alone.

Paul. I am sorry, Sir, I have thus far ftir'd you; bug I could afflict


further. Leo. 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


her lip is wet; You'll marr it, if you kiss it; ftain your own With oily painting; shall I draw the curtains

Leo. 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 aflifted
By wicked powers.

Leo. 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 Atand still :
And those, that think it is unlawful buginele
I am about, let them depart.

Leo. Proceed;
No foot hall ftir.

Paul. Mufick; awake her : strike; Mufick. 'Tis time, descend; be stone no more; approach, Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come, I'll fill your grave up: ftir ; nay, come away : Bequeath to death your numbness ; for from him Dear life redeems you ; you perceive, she firs;

[Hermione comes down.


Start not; her actions shall be holy, as,
You hear, my spell is lawful; do not fhun her,
Until you

fee 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 The become the suitor.
Leo. Oh, she's warm ;

[Embracing ber. If this be magick, let it be an art Lawful as eating.

Pol. She embraces him.

Cam. She hangs about his neck;
If fne pertain to life, let her speak too.

Pol. Ay, and make it manifest where she has liv'd, Oi how itol'n from the dead?

Puul. That she is living, Were it but told you, should be hooted at Like an old tale; but it appears, the lives, Tho' yet the 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.

[Presenting Perdita, who kneels to Hermione.
Her, You Gods, look down,
And from your facred vials pour your graces
l'pon my daughter's head; tell me, mine own,
Where haft 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 ;
Leit they defire, 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 io some wither'd bough, and there
My mate, that's never to be found again,
Lament 'till I am lost.

Leo. O peace, Paulina:
Thou should'At a husband take by my consent,


A prayer upon

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, faid many


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 juftified
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 heav'ns 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, ince first We were diffever’d. Haftily lead away. (Exeunt omness

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