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Leontes was the King of Sicily, and his dearest friend was Polixenes,
King of Bohemia. They had been brought up together, and only
separated when they reached man's estate and each had to go and rule
over his kingdom. After many years, when each was married and had a
son, Polixenes came to stay with Leontes in Sicily.
Leontes was a violent-tempered man and rather silly, and he took it
into his stupid head that his wife, Hermione, liked Polixenes better
than she did him, her own husband. When once he had got this into
his head, nothing could put it out; and he ordered one of his lords,
Camillo, to put a poison in Polixenes' wine. Camillo tried to
dissuade him from this wicked action, but finding he was not to be
moved, pretended to consent. He then told Polixenes what was
proposed against him, and they fled from the Court of Sicily that
night, and returned to Bohemia, where Camillo lived on as Polixenes'
friend and counselor.
Leontes threw the Queen into prison; and her son, the heir to the
throne, died of sorrow to see his mother so unjustly and cruelly
treated.
While the Queen was in prison she had a little baby, and a friend of
hers, named Paulina, had the baby dressed in its best, and took it
to show the King, thinking that the sight of his helpless little
daughter would soften his heart towards his dear Queen, who had
never done him any wrong, and who loved him a great deal more than
he deserved; but the King would not look at the baby, and ordered
Paulina's husband to take it away in a ship, and leave it in the
most desert and dreadful place he could find, which Paulina's
husband, very much against his will, was obliged to do.
Then the poor Queen was brought up to be tried for treason in
preferring Polixenes to her King; but really she had never thought
of anyone except Leontes, her husband. Leontes had sent some
messengers to ask the god, Apollo, whether he was not right in his
cruel thoughts of the Queen. But he had not patience to wait till
they came back, and so it happened that they arrived in the middle
of the trial. The Oracle said--
"Hermione is innocent, Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true subject,
Leontes a jealous tyrant, and the King shall live without an heir,
if that which is lost be not found."
Then a man came and told them that the little Prince was dead. The
poor Queen, hearing this, fell down in a fit; and then the King saw
how wicked and wrong he had been. He ordered Paulina and the ladies
who were with the Queen to take her away, and try to restore her.
But Paulina came back in a few moments, and told the King that
Hermione was dead.
Now Leontes' eyes were at last opened to his folly. His Queen was
dead, and the little daughter who might have been a comfort to him
he had sent away to be the prey of wolves and kites. Life had
nothing left for him now. He gave himself up to his grief, and
passed in any sad years in prayer and remorse.
The baby Princess was left on the seacoast of Bohemia, the very
kingdom where Polixenes reigned. Paulina's husband never went home
to tell Leontes where he had left the baby; for as he was going back
to the ship, he met a bear and was torn to pieces. So there was an
end of him.
But the poor deserted little baby was found by a shepherd. She was
richly dressed, and had with her some jewels, and a paper was pinned
to her cloak, saying that her name was Perdita, and that she came of
noble parents.
The shepherd, being a kind-hearted man, took home the little baby to
his wife, and they brought it up as their own child. She had no more
teaching than a shepherd's child generally has, but she inherited
from her royal mother many graces and charms, so that she was quite
different from the other maidens in the village where she lived.
One day Prince Florizel, the son of the good King of Bohemia, was
bunting near the shepherd's house and saw Perdita, now grown up to a
charming woman. He made friends with the shepherd, not telling him
that he was the Prince, but saying that his name was Doricles, and
that he was a private gentleman; and then, being deeply in love with
the pretty Perdita, he came almost daily to see her.
The King could not understand what it was that took his son nearly
every day from home; so he set people to watch him, and then found
out that the heir of the King of Bohemia was in love with Perdita,
the pretty shepherd girl. Polixenes, wishing to see whether this was
true, disguised himself, and went with the faithful Camillo, in
disguise too, to the old shepherd's house. They arrived at the feast
of sheep-shearing, and, though strangers, they were made very
welcome. There was dancing going on, and a peddler was selling
ribbons and laces and gloves, which the young men bought for their
sweethearts.
Florizel and Perdita, however, were taking no part in this gay
scene, but sat quietly together talking. The King noticed the
charming manners and great beauty of Perdita, never guessing that
she was the daughter of his old friend, Leontes. He said to Camillo--
"This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever ran on the green
sward. Nothing she does or seems but smacks of something greater
than herself--too noble for this place."
And Camillo answered, "In truth she is the Queen of curds and
cream."
But when Florizel, who did not recognize his father, called upon the
strangers to witness his betrothal with the pretty shepherdess, the
King made himself known and forbade the marriage, adding that if
ever she saw Florizel again, he would kill her and her old father,
the shepherd; and with that he left them. But Camillo remained
behind, for he was charmed with Perdita, and wished to befriend her.
Camillo had long known how sorry Leontes was for that foolish
madness of his, and he longed to go back to Sicily to see his old
master. He now proposed that the young people should go there and
claim the protection of Leontes. So they went, and the shepherd went
with them, taking Perdita's jewels, her baby clothes, and the paper
he had found pinned to her cloak.
Leontes received them with great kindness. He was very polite to
Prince Florizel, but all his looks were for Perdita. He saw how much
she was like the Queen Hermione, and said again and again--
"Such a sweet creature my daughter might have been, if I had not
cruelly sent her from me."
When the old shepherd heard that the King had lost a baby daughter,
who had been left upon the coast of Bohemia, he felt sure that
Perdita, the child he had reared, must be the King's daughter, and
when he told his tale and showed the jewels and the paper, the King
perceived that Perdita was indeed his long-lost child. He welcomed
her with joy, and rewarded the good shepherd.
Polixenes had hastened after his son to prevent his marriage with
Perdita, but when he found that she was the daughter of his old
friend, he was only too glad to give his consent.
Yet Leontes could not be happy. He remembered how his fair Queen,
who should have been at his side to share his joy in his daughter's
happiness, was dead through his unkindness, and he could say nothing
for a long time but--
"Oh, thy mother! thy mother!" and ask forgiveness of the King of
Bohemia, and then kiss his daughter again, and then the Prince
Florizel, and then thank the old shepherd for all his goodness.
Then Paulina, who had been high all these years in the King's favor,
because of her kindness to the dead Queen Hermione, said--"I have a
statue made in the likeness of the dead Queen, a piece many years in
doing, and performed by the rare Italian master, Giulio Romano. I
keep it in a private house apart, and there, ever since you lost
your Queen, I have gone twice or thrice a day. Will it please your
Majesty to go and see the statue?"
So Leontes and Polixenes, and Florizel and Perdita, with Camillo and
their attendants, went to Paulina's house where there was a heavy
purple curtain screening off an alcove; and Paulina, with her hand
on the curtain, said--
"She was peerless when she was alive, and I do believe that her dead
likeness excels whatever yet you have looked upon, or that the hand
of man hath done. Therefore I keep it lonely, apart. But here it
is--behold, and say, 'tis well."
And with that she drew back the curtain and showed them the statue.
The King gazed and gazed on the beautiful statue of his dead wife,
but said nothing.
"I like your silence," said Paulina; "it the more shows off your
wonder. But speak, is it not like her?"
"It is almost herself," said the King, "and yet, Paulina, Hermione
was not so much wrinkled, nothing so old as this seems."
"Oh, not by much," said Polixenes.
"Al," said Paulina, "that is the cleverness of the carver, who shows
her to us as she would have been had she lived till now."
And still Leontes looked at the statue and could not take his eyes
away.
"If I had known," said Paulina, "that this poor image would so have
stirred your grief, and love, I would not have shown it to you."
But he only answered, "Do not draw the curtain."
"No, you must not look any longer," said Paulina, "or you will think
it moves."
"Let be! let be!" said the King. "Would you not think it breathed?"
"I will draw the curtain," said Paulina; "you will think it lives
presently."
"Ah, sweet Paulina," said Leontes, "make me to think so twenty years
together."
"If you can bear it," said Paulina, "I can make the statue move,
make it come down and take you by the hand. Only you would think it
was by wicked magic."
"Whatever you can make her do, I am content to look on," said the
King.
And then, all folks there admiring and beholding, the statue moved
from its pedestal, and came down the steps and put its arms round
the King's neck, and he held her face and kissed her many times, for
this was no statue, but the real living Queen Hermione herself. She
had lived hidden, by Paulina's kindness, all these years, and would
not discover herself to her husband, though she knew he had
repented, because she could not quite forgive him till she knew what
had become of her little baby.
Now that Perdita was found, she forgave her husband everything, and
it was like a new and beautiful marriage to them, to be together
once more.
Florizel and Perdita were married and lived long and happily.
To Leontes his many years of suffering were well paid for in the
moment when, after long grief and pain, he felt the arms of his true
love around him once again.
The Winter's Tale
A Classic English Shakespeare Story
by
Edith Nesbit |
