From thy admiring Daughter took the Spirit,
Standing like Stone with thee.

Per. And give me leave.

'And do not say 'tis Superftition, that

I kneel, and then emplore her Bleffing. Lady,
Dear Queen, that ended when I but began,
Give me that Hand of yours to kifs.

Paul. O, Patience;

The Statue is but newly fix'd; the Colour's
Not dry.

Cam. My Lord, your Sorrow was too fore laid on,
Which fixteen Winters cannot blow away,

So many Summers dry, fcarce any Joy,

Did ever fo long live; no Sorrow,
But kill'd it felf much fooner.

Pol. Dear, my Brother,

Let him that was the Cause of this, have power
To take off fo 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 fhew'd you it.

Leo. Do not draw the Curtain.

Paul. No longer fhall you gaze on't, left your Fancy May think anon, it moves.

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. Mafterly done.

The very Life feems warm upon her Lip.

Leo. 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 a'moft so far transported, that
He'll think anon it lives.

Lee. Oh fweet Paulina,

Make me to think fo twenty Years together:

No

No fettled Senfes of the World can match
The Pleasure of that madnefs. Let't alone.

Paul. I am forry, Sir, I have thus far ftirr'd you; but

I could affli& you 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 kifs her.

Paul. Good my Lord forbear;

The ruddinefs upon her Lip is wet;

You'll marr it, if you kifs it; ftain your own
With oily Painting; fhall I draw the Curtain?
Lee. No, not these twenty Years.

Per. So long could I

Stand by, a Looker on.

Paul. Either forbear,

Quit presently the Chappel, or refolve you
For more amazement; if you can behold it,
I'll make the Statue move indeed; defcend,
And take you by the Hand; but then you'll think,
Which I proteft against, I am affifted
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 easie
To make her speak, as move.

Paul. It is requir'd

You do awake your Faith, then all stand still.
On; those that think it is unlawful Business
I am about, let them depart.

Leo. Proceed;

No Foot fhall ftir.

Paul. Mufick; awake her: Strike,

'Tis time, defcend; 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 Numbnefs; for from him
Dear Life redeems you, you perceive the ftirs,

[Musick.

[Hermione comes down.

Start

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, prefent your Hand;
When she was young, you woo'd her; now in Age,
Is fhe become the Suitor?

Leo. Oh fhe'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 the pertain to Life, let her speak too.

[Embracing her.

Pol. Ay, and make it manifest where she has liv'd,

Or how ftol'n from the dead?

Paul. That he is living,

Were it but told you, fhould be hooted at
Like an old Tale; but it appears the lives,

Tho' yet she speak not.

Mark a little while.

Please you to enterpofe, fair Madam, kneel,

And pray your Mother's Bleffing; turn good Lady,
Our Perdita is found. [Prefenting Perdita, who kneels to Herm.
Her. You Gods look down,

And from your facred Viols pour your Graces

Upon my Daughter's Head; tell me, mine own,

Where haft thou been preferv'd? Where liv'd? How found Thy Father's Court? For thou fhalt hear that I,

Knowing by Paulina, that the Oracle

Gave hope thou waft in being, have preserv❜d
My felf, to fee the Iffue.

Paul. There is time enough for that;
Left they defire, upon this pufh, 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 fome wither'd Bow, and there
My Mate, that's never to be found again,
Lament 'till I am loft.

Leo. O Peace Paulina:

Thou should'ft a Husband take by my Confent,
As I by thine a Wife. This is a Match,

And

And made between's by Vows. Thou haft found mine,
But how, is to be queftion'd; for I faw her,
As I thought, dead; and have, in vain, faid many,
A Prayer upon her Grave. I'll not feek far
(For him, I partly know his mind) to find thee
An honourable Husband. Come, Camillo,
And take her by the Hand; whofe 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 Sufpicion: 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 leifurely
Each one demand, and anfwer to his part
Perform'd in this wide gap of Time, fince firft
We were diffever'd. Haftily lead away.

[Exeunt omnes.

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