Excerpt from The Winter's Tale - anthology. One of Shakespeare's last plays, the beautiful, poignant romance story of The Winter's Tale revolves around the estrangement of Leontes, King of Sicilia, from his wife and daughter, and their eventual reconciliation. In a sudden fit of jealousy Leontes becomes convinced that his wife has been conducting an affair with his friend Polixenes and orders the daughter she bears to be abandoned abroad, believing the child is not his own. The first scene presented here shows the humiliating trial to which Leontes then subjects his wife, Hermione, and his tragic realization--too late--that he has made a grave error. Guided by Hermione's servant Paulina, he enters a 16-year period of mourning and repentance. The fourth act of the play follows the girl, christened Perdita, as she grows up in the Bohemian countryside, before her chance return to her father's court, where her true identity is gratefully discovered. Finally, in the second scene given below, Paulina leads Perdita to view her mother 's statue, where the penitent Leontes is granted an even greater miracle of grace and reconciliation. The statue awakes, and the three are finally reunited. "A sad tale's best for winter", perhaps, but as this tale reveals, spring follows winter, and the hope of renewal is thus ever present. The Winter's Tale Act 3, Scene i Enter Leontes, Lords, and Officers LEONTES. This sessions, to our great grief we pronounce, Even pushes 'gainst our heart: the party tried The daughter of a king, our wife, and one Of us too much beloved. Let us be cleared Of being tyrannous, since we so openly Proceed in justice, which shall have due course, Even to the guilt or the purgation. Produce the prisoner. OFFICER. It is his highness' pleasure that the Queen Appear in person here in court. Enter Hermione, guarded, Paulina, and Ladies attending Silence! LEONTES. Read the indictment. OFFICER (reads) "Hermione, Queen to the worthy Leontes, King of Sicilia, thou art here accused and arraigned of high treason, in committing adultery with Polixenes, King of Bohemia, and conspiring with Camillo to take away the life of our sovereign lord the King, thy royal husband; the pretence whereof being by circumstances partly laid open, thou, Hermione, contrary to the faith and allegiance of a true subject, didst counsel and aid them, for their better safety, to fly away by night." HERMIONE. Since what I am to say must be but that Which contradicts my accusation, and The testimony on my part no other But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me To say "Not guilty": mine integrity Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it, Be so received. But thus: if powers divine Behold our human actions--as they do-- I doubt not then but innocence shall make False accusation blush, and tyranny Tremble at patience. You, my lord, best know-- Who least will seem to do so--my past life Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true, As I am now unhappy; which is more Than history can pattern, though devised And played to take spectators. For behold me, A fellow of the royal bed, which owe A moiety of the throne, a great king's daughter, The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing To prate and talk for life and honour 'fore Who please to come and hear. For life, I prize it As I weigh grief, which I would spare; for honour, 'Tis a derivative from me to mine, And only that I stand for. I appeal To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes Came to your court, how I was in your grace, How merited to be so; since he came, With what encounter so uncurrent I Have strained t'appear thus: if one jot beyond The bound of honour, or in act or will That way inclining, hardened be the hearts Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin Cry fie upon my grave! LEONTES. I ne'er heard yet That any of these holder vices wanted Less impudence to gainsay what they did Than to perform it first. HERMIONE. That's true enough, Though 'tis a saying, sir, not due to me. LEONTES. You will not own it. HERMIONE. More than mistress of Which comes to me in name of fault I must not At all acknowledge. For Polixenes, With whom I am accused, I do confess I loved him as in honour he required: With such a kind of love as might become A lady like me; with a love even such, So and no other, as yourself commanded; Which not to have done I think had been in me Both disobedience and ingratitude To you and toward your friend, whose love had spoke Even since it could speak, from an infant, freely That it was yours. Now, for conspiracy, I know not how it tastes, though it be dished For me to try how. All I know of it Is that Camillo was an honest man; And why he left your court the gods themselves, Wotting no more than I, are ignorant. LEONTES. You knew of his departure, as you know What you have underta'en to do in's absence. HERMIONE. Sir, You speak a language that I understand not. My life stands in the level of your dreams, Which I'll lay down. LEONTES. Your actions are my dreams. You had a bastard by Polixenes, And I but dreamed it. As you were past all shame-- Those of your fact are so--so past all truth; Which to deny concerns more than avails: for as Thy brat hath been cast out, like to itself, No father owning it--which is indeed More criminal in thee than it--so thou Shalt feel our justice, in whose easiest passage Look for no less than death. HERMIONE. Sir, spare your threats! The bug which you would fright me with I seek. To me can life be no commodity: The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, I do give lost, for I do feel it gone, But know not how it went. My second joy, And first-fruits of my body, from his presence I am barred, like one infectious. My third comfort, Starred most unluckily, is from my breast-- The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth-- Haled out to murder. Myself on every post Proclaimed a strumpet; with immodest hatred The childbed privilege denied, which 'longs To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried Here to this place, i'th'open air, before I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege, Tell me what blessings I have here alive That I should fear to die. Therefore proceed. But yet hear this--mistake me not: no life, I prize it not a straw; but for mine honour, Which I would free--if I shall be condemned Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else But what your jealousies awake, I tell you 'Tis rigour and not law. Your honours all, I do refer me to the oracle: Apollo be my judge! LORD. This your request Is altogether just. Therefore bring forth, And in Apollo's name, his oracle. Exeunt certain Officers HERMIONE. The Emperor of Russia was my father. O that he were alive, and here beholding His daughter's trial! That he did but see The flatness of my misery; yet with eyes Of pity, not revenge! Enter Officers, with Cleomenes and Dion OFFICER. You here shall swear upon this sword of justice That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought This sealed-up oracle, by the hand delivered Of great Apollo's priest; and that since then You have not dared to break the holy seal, Nor read the secrets in't. CLEOMENES and DION. All this we swear. LEONTES. Break up the seals and read. OFFICER. (reads) "Hermione is chaste; Polixenes blameless; Camillo a true subject; Leontes a jealous tyrant; his innocent babe truly begotten; and the King shall live without an heir, if that which is lost be not found." LORDS. Now blessèd be the great Apollo! HERMIONE. Praised! LEONTES. Hast thou read truth? OFFICER. Ay, my lord, even so As it is here set down. LEONTES. There is no truth at all i'th'oracle! The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood. Enter Servant SERVANT. My lord the King, the King! LEONTES. What is the business? SERVANT. O sir, I shall be hated to report it: The Prince your son, with mere conceit and fear Of the Queen's speed, is gone. LEONTES. How! Gone? SERVANT. Is dead. LEONTES. Apollo's angry, and the heavens themselves Do strike at my injustice. Hermione faints How now there! PAULINA. This news is mortal to the Queen: look down And see what death is doing. LEONTES. Take her hence. Her heart is but o'ercharged; she will recover. I have too much believed mine own suspicion. Beseech you, tenderly apply to her Some remedies for life. Exeunt Paulina and Ladies, bearing Hermione Apollo, pardon My great profaneness 'gainst thine oracle! I'll reconcile me to Polixenes; New woo my queen; recall the good Camillo-- Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy: For, being transported by my jealousies To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose Camillo for the minister to poison My friend Polixenes; which had been done, But that the good mind of Camillo tardied My swift command, though I with death and with Reward did threaten and encourage him, Not doing it and being done. He, most humane, And filled with honour, to my kingly guest Unclasped my practice, quit his fortunes here-- Which you knew great--and to the hazard Of all incertainties himself commanded, No richer than his honour. How he glisters Through my rust! And how his piety Does my deeds make the blacker! Enter Paulina PAULINA. Woe the while! O cut my lace, lest my heart, cracking it, Break too! LORD. What fit is this, good lady? PAULINA. What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? What wheels? Racks? Fires? What flaying? Boiling In leads or oils? What old or newer torture Must I receive, whose every word deserves To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny, Together working with thy jealousies-- Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle For girls of nine--O think what they have done, And then run mad indeed, stark mad! For all Thy bygone fooleries were but spices of it. That thou betrayedst Polixenes 'twas nothing: That did but show thee of a fool inconstant, And damnable ingrateful. Nor was't much Thou wouldst have poisoned good Camillo's honour To have him kill a king--poor trespasses, More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon The casting forth to crows thy baby daughter To be or none or little, though a devil Would have shed water out of fire ere done't; Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death Of the young Prince, whose honourable thoughts-- Thoughts high for one so tender--cleft the heart That could conceive a gross and foolish sire Blemished his gracious dam. This is not, no, Laid to thy answer. But the last--O lords, When I have said, cry woe! The Queen, the Queen, The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead! And vengeance for't Not dropped down yet. LORDS. The higher powers forbid! PAULINA. I say she's dead; I'll swear't. If word nor oath Prevail not, go and see. If you can bring Tincture or lustre in her lip, her eye, Heat outwardly or breath within, I'll serve you As I would do the gods. But, O thou tyrant, Do not repent these things, for they are heavier Than all thy woes can stir. Therefore betake thee To nothing but despair. A thousand knees, Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting, Upon a barren mountain, and still winter In storm perpetual, could not move the gods To look that way thou wert. LEONTES. Go on, go on: Thou canst not speak too much; I have deserved All tongues to talk their bitt'rest. LORD. Say no more. Howe'er the business goes, you have made fault I'th'boldness of your speech. PAULINA. I am sorry for't. All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, I do repent. Alas, I have showed too much The rashness of a woman! He is touched To th'noble heart. What's gone and what's past help Should be past grief. Do not receive affliction At my petition, I beseech you; rather Let me be punished, that have minded you Of what you should forget. Now, good my liege, Sir, royal sir, forgive a foolish woman. The love I bore your queen--lo, fool again! I'll speak of her no more, nor of your children; I'll not remember you of my own lord, Who is lost too. Take your patience to you, And I'll say nothing. LEONTES. Thou didst speak but well When most the truth; which I receive much better Than to be pitied of thee. Prithee, bring me To the dead bodies of my queen and son. One grave shall be for both: upon them shall The causes of their death appear, unto Our shame perpetual. Once a day I'll visit The chapel where they lie, and tears shed there Shall be my recreation. So long as nature Will bear up with this exercise, so long I daily vow to use it. Come, And lead me to these sorrows. Exeunt Act 5, Scene iii 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 vouchsafed, With your crowned 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 passed 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 lived peerless, So her dead likeness I do well believe Excels whatever yet you looked upon, Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it Lonely, apart. But here it is: prepare To see the life as lively mocked as ever Still sleep mocked death. Behold, and say 'tis well! Paulina draws a curtain and reveals 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 agèd 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 lived 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 wooed her! I am ashamed. 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 conjured 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 fixed, 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 killed itself much sooner. POLIXENES. 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. 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 showed 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 breathed, and that those veins Did verily bear blood? POLIXENES. Masterly done! The very life seems warm upon her lip. LEONTES. The fixure of her eye has motion in't As we are mocked 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 stirred 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 required 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 descends Start not: her actions shall be holy as You hear my spell is lawful. (To Leontes) 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 wooed 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 lived, 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. (To Perdita) 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 preserved? Where lived? 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 preserved Myself to see the issue. PAULINA. 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 everyone. I, an old turtle, Will wing me to some withered bough, and there My mate, that's never to be found again, Lament till I am lost. LEONTES. O peace, Paulina! Thou shouldst 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 questioned: 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. (To Hermione) 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 Performed in this wide gap of time since first We were dissevered. Hastily lead away. Exeunt
