ACT V. SCENE I. Sicilia. The palace of LEONTES  Enter LEONTES, CLEOMENES, DION, PAULINA, and OTHERS    CLEOMENES. Sir, you have done enough, and have perform'd     A saint-like sorrow. No fault could you make     Which you have not redeem'd; indeed, paid down     More penitence than done trespass. At the last,     Do as the heavens have done: forget your evil;     With them forgive yourself.   LEONTES. Whilst I remember     Her and her virtues, I cannot forget     My blemishes in them, and so still think of     The wrong I did myself; which was so much     That heirless it hath made my kingdom, and     Destroy'd the sweet'st companion that e'er man     Bred his hopes out of.   PAULINA. True, too true, my lord.     If, one by one, you wedded all the world,     Or from the all that are took something good     To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd     Would be unparallel'd.   LEONTES. I think so. Kill'd!     She I kill'd! I did so; but thou strik'st me     Sorely, to say I did. It is as bitter     Upon thy tongue as in my thought. Now, good now,     Say so but seldom.   CLEOMENES. Not at all, good lady.     You might have spoken a thousand things that would     Have done the time more benefit, and grac'd     Your kindness better.   PAULINA. You are one of those     Would have him wed again.   DION. If you would not so,     You pity not the state, nor the remembrance     Of his most sovereign name; consider little     What dangers, by his Highness' fail of issue,     May drop upon his kingdom and devour     Incertain lookers-on. What were more holy     Than to rejoice the former queen is well?     What holier than, for royalty's repair,     For present comfort, and for future good,     To bless the bed of majesty again     With a sweet fellow to't?   PAULINA. There is none worthy,     Respecting her that's gone. Besides, the gods     Will have fulfill'd their secret purposes;     For has not the divine Apollo said,     Is't not the tenour of his oracle,     That King Leontes shall not have an heir     Till his lost child be found? Which that it shall,     Is all as monstrous to our human reason     As my Antigonus to break his grave     And come again to me; who, on my life,     Did perish with the infant. 'Tis your counsel     My lord should to the heavens be contrary,     Oppose against their wills.  [To LEONTES]  Care not for issue;     The crown will find an heir. Great Alexander     Left his to th' worthiest; so his successor     Was like to be the best.   LEONTES. Good Paulina,     Who hast the memory of Hermione,     I know, in honour, O that ever I     Had squar'd me to thy counsel! Then, even now,     I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes,     Have taken treasure from her lips-   PAULINA. And left them     More rich for what they yielded.   LEONTES. Thou speak'st truth.     No more such wives; therefore, no wife. One worse,     And better us'd, would make her sainted spirit     Again possess her corpse, and on this stage,     Where we offend her now, appear soul-vex'd,     And begin 'Why to me'-   PAULINA. Had she such power,     She had just cause.   LEONTES. She had; and would incense me     To murder her I married.   PAULINA. I should so.     Were I the ghost that walk'd, I'd bid you mark     Her eye, and tell me for what dull part in't     You chose her; then I'd shriek, that even your ears     Should rift to hear me; and the words that follow'd     Should be 'Remember mine.'   LEONTES. Stars, stars,     And all eyes else dead coals! Fear thou no wife;     I'll have no wife, Paulina.   PAULINA. Will you swear     Never to marry but by my free leave?   LEONTES. Never, Paulina; so be blest my spirit!   PAULINA. Then, good my lords, bear witness to his oath.   CLEOMENES. You tempt him over-much.   PAULINA. Unless another,     As like Hermione as is her picture,     Affront his eye.   CLEOMENES. Good madam-   PAULINA. I have done.     Yet, if my lord will marry- if you will, sir,     No remedy but you will- give me the office     To choose you a queen. She shall not be so young     As was your former; but she shall be such     As, walk'd your first queen's ghost, it should take joy     To see her in your arms.   LEONTES. My true Paulina,     We shall not marry till thou bid'st us.   PAULINA. That     Shall be when your first queen's again in breath;     Never till then.                         Enter a GENTLEMAN    GENTLEMAN. One that gives out himself Prince Florizel,     Son of Polixenes, with his princess- she     The fairest I have yet beheld- desires access     To your high presence.   LEONTES. What with him? He comes not     Like to his father's greatness. His approach,     So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us     'Tis not a visitation fram'd, but forc'd     By need and accident. What train?   GENTLEMAN. But few,     And those but mean.   LEONTES. His princess, say you, with him?   GENTLEMAN. Ay; the most peerless piece of earth, I think,     That e'er the sun shone bright on.   PAULINA. O Hermione,     As every present time doth boast itself     Above a better gone, so must thy grave     Give way to what's seen now! Sir, you yourself     Have said and writ so, but your writing now     Is colder than that theme: 'She had not been,     Nor was not to be equall'd.' Thus your verse     Flow'd with her beauty once; 'tis shrewdly ebb'd,     To say you have seen a better.   GENTLEMAN. Pardon, madam.     The one I have almost forgot- your pardon;     The other, when she has obtain'd your eye,     Will have your tongue too. This is a creature,     Would she begin a sect, might quench the zeal     Of all professors else, make proselytes     Of who she but bid follow.   PAULINA. How! not women?   GENTLEMAN. Women will love her that she is a woman     More worth than any man; men, that she is     The rarest of all women.   LEONTES. Go, Cleomenes;     Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends,     Bring them to our embracement.                        Exeunt     Still, 'tis strange     He thus should steal upon us.   PAULINA. Had our prince,     Jewel of children, seen this hour, he had pair'd     Well with this lord; there was not full a month     Between their births.   LEONTES. Prithee no more; cease. Thou know'st     He dies to me again when talk'd of. Sure,     When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches     Will bring me to consider that which may     Unfurnish me of reason.           Re-enter CLEOMENES, with FLORIZEL, PERDITA, and                             ATTENDANTS      They are come.     Your mother was most true to wedlock, Prince;     For she did print your royal father off,     Conceiving you. Were I but twenty-one,     Your father's image is so hit in you     His very air, that I should call you brother,     As I did him, and speak of something wildly     By us perform'd before. Most dearly welcome!     And your fair princess- goddess! O, alas!     I lost a couple that 'twixt heaven and earth     Might thus have stood begetting wonder as     You, gracious couple, do. And then I lost-     All mine own folly- the society,     Amity too, of your brave father, whom,     Though bearing misery, I desire my life     Once more to look on him.   FLORIZEL. By his command     Have I here touch'd Sicilia, and from him     Give you all greetings that a king, at friend,     Can send his brother; and, but infirmity,     Which waits upon worn times, hath something seiz'd     His wish'd ability, he had himself     The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his     Measur'd, to look upon you; whom he loves,     He bade me say so, more than all the sceptres     And those that bear them living.   LEONTES. O my brother-     Good gentleman!- the wrongs I have done thee stir     Afresh within me; and these thy offices,     So rarely kind, are as interpreters     Of my behind-hand slackness! Welcome hither,     As is the spring to th' earth. And hath he too     Expos'd this paragon to th' fearful usage,     At least ungentle, of the dreadful Neptune,     To greet a man not worth her pains, much less     Th' adventure of her person?   FLORIZEL. Good, my lord,     She came from Libya.   LEONTES. Where the warlike Smalus,     That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd and lov'd?   FLORIZEL. Most royal sir, from thence; from him whose daughter     His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her; thence,     A prosperous south-wind friendly, we have cross'd,     To execute the charge my father gave me     For visiting your Highness. My best train     I have from your Sicilian shores dismiss'd;     Who for Bohemia bend, to signify     Not only my success in Libya, sir,     But my arrival and my wife's in safety     Here where we are.   LEONTES. The blessed gods     Purge all infection from our air whilst you     Do climate here! You have a holy father,     A graceful gentleman, against whose person,     So sacred as it is, I have done sin,     For which the heavens, taking angry note,     Have left me issueless; and your father's blest,     As he from heaven merits it, with you,     Worthy his goodness. What might I have been,     Might I a son and daughter now have look'd on,     Such goodly things as you!                        Enter a LORD    LORD. Most noble sir,     That which I shall report will bear no credit,     Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great sir,     Bohemia greets you from himself by me;     Desires you to attach his son, who has-     His dignity and duty both cast off-     Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with     A shepherd's daughter.   LEONTES. Where's Bohemia? Speak.   LORD. Here in your city; I now came from him.     I speak amazedly; and it becomes     My marvel and my message. To your court     Whiles he was hast'ning- in the chase, it seems,     Of this fair couple- meets he on the way     The father of this seeming lady and     Her brother, having both their country quitted     With this young prince.   FLORIZEL. Camillo has betray'd me;     Whose honour and whose honesty till now     Endur'd all weathers.   LORD. Lay't so to his charge;     He's with the King your father.   LEONTES. Who? Camillo?   LORD. Camillo, sir; I spake with him; who now     Has these poor men in question. Never saw I     Wretches so quake. They kneel, they kiss the earth;     Forswear themselves as often as they speak.     Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them     With divers deaths in death.   PERDITA. O my poor father!     The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have     Our contract celebrated.   LEONTES. You are married?   FLORIZEL. We are not, sir, nor are we like to be;     The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first.     The odds for high and low's alike.   LEONTES. My lord,     Is this the daughter of a king?   FLORIZEL. She is,     When once she is my wife.   LEONTES. That 'once,' I see by your good father's speed,     Will come on very slowly. I am sorry,     Most sorry, you have broken from his liking     Where you were tied in duty; and as sorry     Your choice is not so rich in worth as beauty,     That you might well enjoy her.   FLORIZEL. Dear, look up.     Though Fortune, visible an enemy,     Should chase us with my father, pow'r no jot     Hath she to change our loves. Beseech you, sir,     Remember since you ow'd no more to time     Than I do now. With thought of such affections,     Step forth mine advocate; at your request     My father will grant precious things as trifles.   LEONTES. Would he do so, I'd beg your precious mistress,     Which he counts but a trifle.   PAULINA. Sir, my liege,     Your eye hath too much youth in't. Not a month     Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes     Than what you look on now.   LEONTES. I thought of her     Even in these looks I made.  [To FLORIZEL]  But your petition     Is yet unanswer'd. I will to your father.     Your honour not o'erthrown by your desires,     I am friend to them and you. Upon which errand     I now go toward him; therefore, follow me,     And mark what way I make. Come, good my lord.         Exeunt     SCENE II. Sicilia. Before the palace of LEONTES  Enter AUTOLYCUS and a GENTLEMAN    AUTOLYCUS. Beseech you, sir, were you present at this relation?   FIRST GENTLEMAN. I was by at the opening of the fardel, heard the     old shepherd deliver the manner how he found it; whereupon, after     a little amazedness, we were all commanded out of the chamber;     only this, methought I heard the shepherd say he found the child.   AUTOLYCUS. I would most gladly know the issue of it.   FIRST GENTLEMAN. I make a broken delivery of the business; but the     changes I perceived in the King and Camillo were very notes of     admiration. They seem'd almost, with staring on one another, to     tear the cases of their eyes; there was speech in their dumbness,     language in their very gesture; they look'd as they had heard of     a world ransom'd, or one destroyed. A notable passion of wonder     appeared in them; but the wisest beholder that knew no more but     seeing could not say if th' importance were joy or sorrow- but in     the extremity of the one it must needs be.                      Enter another GENTLEMAN      Here comes a gentleman that happily knows more. The news, Rogero?   SECOND GENTLEMAN. Nothing but bonfires. The oracle is fulfill'd:     the King's daughter is found. Such a deal of wonder is broken out     within this hour that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it.                      Enter another GENTLEMAN      Here comes the Lady Paulina's steward; he can deliver you more.     How goes it now, sir? This news, which is call'd true, is so like     an old tale that the verity of it is in strong suspicion. Has the     King found his heir?   THIRD GENTLEMAN. Most true, if ever truth were pregnant by     circumstance. That which you hear you'll swear you see, there is     such unity in the proofs. The mantle of Queen Hermione's; her     jewel about the neck of it; the letters of Antigonus found with     it, which they know to be his character; the majesty of the     creature in resemblance of the mother; the affection of nobleness     which nature shows above her breeding; and many other evidences-     proclaim her with all certainty to be the King's daughter. Did     you see the meeting of the two kings?   SECOND GENTLEMAN. No.   THIRD GENTLEMAN. Then you have lost a sight which was to be seen,     cannot be spoken of. There might you have beheld one joy crown     another, so and in such manner that it seem'd sorrow wept to take     leave of them; for their joy waded in tears. There was casting up     of eyes, holding up of hands, with countenance of such     distraction that they were to be known by garment, not by favour.     Our king, being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found     daughter, as if that joy were now become a loss, cries 'O, thy     mother, thy mother!' then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then embraces     his son-in-law; then again worries he his daughter with clipping     her. Now he thanks the old shepherd, which stands by like a     weather-bitten conduit of many kings' reigns. I never heard of     such another encounter, which lames report to follow it and     undoes description to do it.   SECOND GENTLEMAN. What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carried     hence the child?   THIRD GENTLEMAN. Like an old tale still, which will have matter to     rehearse, though credit be asleep and not an ear open: he was     torn to pieces with a bear. This avouches the shepherd's son, who     has not only his innocence, which seems much, to justify him, but     a handkerchief and rings of his that Paulina knows.   FIRST GENTLEMAN. What became of his bark and his followers?   THIRD GENTLEMAN. Wreck'd the same instant of their master's death,     and in the view of the shepherd; so that all the instruments     which aided to expose the child were even then lost when it was     found. But, O, the noble combat that 'twixt joy and sorrow was     fought in Paulina! She had one eye declin'd for the loss of her     husband, another elevated that the oracle was fulfill'd. She     lifted the Princess from the earth, and so locks her in embracing     as if she would pin her to her heart, that she might no more be     in danger of losing.   FIRST GENTLEMAN. The dignity of this act was worth the audience of     kings and princes; for by such was it acted.   THIRD GENTLEMAN. One of the prettiest touches of all, and that     which angl'd for mine eyes- caught the water, though not the     fish- was, when at the relation of the Queen's death, with the     manner how she came to't bravely confess'd and lamented by the     King, how attentivenes wounded his daughter; till, from one sign     of dolour to another, she did with an 'Alas!'- I would fain say-     bleed tears; for I am sure my heart wept blood. Who was most     marble there changed colour; some swooned, all sorrowed. If all     the world could have seen't, the woe had been universal.   FIRST GENTLEMAN. Are they returned to the court?   THIRD GENTLEMAN. No. The Princess hearing of her mother's statue,     which is in the keeping of Paulina- a piece many years in doing     and now newly perform'd by that rare Italian master, Julio     Romano, who, had he himself eternity and could put breath into     his work, would beguile nature of her custom, so perfectly he is     her ape. He so near to Hermione hath done Hermione that they say     one would speak to her and stand in hope of answer- thither with     all greediness of affection are they gone, and there they intend     to sup.   SECOND GENTLEMAN. I thought she had some great matter there in     hand; for she hath privately twice or thrice a day, ever since     the death of Hermione, visited that removed house. Shall we     thither, and with our company piece the rejoicing?   FIRST GENTLEMAN. Who would be thence that has the benefit of     access? Every wink of an eye some new grace will be born. Our     absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge. Let's along.                                                 Exeunt GENTLEMEN   AUTOLYCUS. Now, had I not the dash of my former life in me, would     preferment drop on my head. I brought the old man and his son     aboard the Prince; told him I heard them talk of a fardel and I     know not what; but he at that time over-fond of the shepherd's     daughter- so he then took her to be- who began to be much     sea-sick, and himself little better, extremity of weather     continuing, this mystery remained undiscover'd. But 'tis all one     to me; for had I been the finder-out of this secret, it would not     have relish'd among my other discredits.                      Enter SHEPHERD and CLOWN      Here come those I have done good to against my will, and already     appearing in the blossoms of their fortune.   SHEPHERD. Come, boy; I am past moe children, but thy sons and     daughters will be all gentlemen born.   CLOWN. You are well met, sir. You denied to fight with me this     other day, because I was no gentleman born. See you these     clothes? Say you see them not and think me still no gentleman     born. You were best say these robes are not gentlemen born. Give     me the lie, do; and try whether I am not now a gentleman born.   AUTOLYCUS. I know you are now, sir, a gentleman born.   CLOWN. Ay, and have been so any time these four hours.   SHEPHERD. And so have I, boy.   CLOWN. So you have; but I was a gentleman born before my father;     for the King's son took me by the hand and call'd me brother; and     then the two kings call'd my father brother; and then the Prince,     my brother, and the Princess, my sister, call'd my father father.     And so we wept; and there was the first gentleman-like tears that     ever we shed.   SHEPHERD. We may live, son, to shed many more.   CLOWN. Ay; or else 'twere hard luck, being in so preposterous     estate as we are.   AUTOLYCUS. I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all the faults I     have committed to your worship, and to give me your good report     to the Prince my master.   SHEPHERD. Prithee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are     gentlemen.   CLOWN. Thou wilt amend thy life?   AUTOLYCUS. Ay, an it like your good worship.   CLOWN. Give me thy hand. I will swear to the Prince thou art as     honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia.   SHEPHERD. You may say it, but not swear it.   CLOWN. Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? Let boors and franklins     say it: I'll swear it.   SHEPHERD. How if it be false, son?   CLOWN. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear it in     the behalf of his friend. And I'll swear to the Prince thou art a     tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I     know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt be     drunk. But I'll swear it; and I would thou wouldst be a tall     fellow of thy hands.   AUTOLYCUS. I will prove so, sir, to my power.   CLOWN. Ay, by any means, prove a tall fellow. If I do not wonder     how thou dar'st venture to be drunk not being a tall fellow,     trust me not. Hark! the kings and the princes, our kindred, are     going to see the Queen's picture. Come, follow us; we'll be thy     good masters.                                         Exeunt     SCENE III. Sicilia. A chapel in PAULINA's house  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 vouchsaf'd,     With your crown'd 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 pass'd 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 liv'd peerless,     So her dead likeness, I do well believe,     Excels whatever yet you look'd upon     Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it     Lonely, apart. But here it is. Prepare     To see the life as lively mock'd as ever     Still sleep mock'd death. Behold; and say 'tis well.                 [PAULINA draws a curtain, and discovers 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 aged 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 liv'd 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 woo'd her!     I am asham'd. 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 conjur'd 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 fix'd, 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 kill'd itself much sooner.   POLIXENES. Dear my brother,     Let him that was the cause of this have pow'r     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 show'd 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 breath'd, and that those veins     Did verily bear blood?   POLIXENES. Masterly done!     The very life seems warm upon her lip.   LEONTES. The fixture of her eye has motion in't,     As we are mock'd 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 stirr'd 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 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.   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 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?   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 liv'd,     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.     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 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.   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 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.   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 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  THE END