this passage, that Perdita does not attempt
to answer the reasoning of Polixenes: she gives up the argument, but,
woman-like, retains her own opinion, or rather, her sense of right,
unshaken by his sophistry. She goes on in a strain of poetry, which
comes over the soul like music and fragrance mingled: we seem to inhale
the blended odors of a thousand flowers, till the sense faints with
their sweetness; and she concludes with a touch of passionate sentiment,
which melts into the very heart:--

O Proserpina!
For the flowers now, that, frighted, thou let'st fall
From Dis's wagon! daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips, and
The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one! O, these I lack,
To make you garlands of; and my sweet friend
To strew him o'er and o'er.

FLORIZEL.

What! like a corse?

PERDITA.

No, like a bank, for Love to lie and play on;
Not like a corse: or if,--not to be buried,
But quick, and in mine arms!

This love of truth, this _conscientiousness_, which forms so distinct a
feature in the character of Perdita, and mingles with its picturesque
delicacy a certain firmness and dignity, is maintained consistently to
the last. When the two lovers fly together from Bohemia, and take refuge
in the court of Leontes, the real father of Perdita, Florizel presents
himself before the king with a feigned tale, in which he has been
artfully instructed by the old counsellor Camillo. During this scene,
Perdita does not utter a word. In the strait in which they are placed,
she cannot deny the story which Florizel relates--she will not confirm
it. Her silence, in spite of all the compliments and greetings of
Leontes, has a peculiar and characteristic grace and, at the conclusion
of the scene, when they are betrayed, the truth bursts from her as if
instinctively, and she exclaims, with emotion,--

The heavens set spies upon us--will not have
Our contract celebrated.

After this scene, Perdita says very little. The description of her
grief, while listening to the relation of her m