gh the parade of royalty in the court which had witnessed her
anguish, her shame, her degradation, and her despair? Methinks that the
want of feeling, nature, delicacy, and consistency, would lie in such an
exhibition as this. In a mind like Hermione's, where the strength of
feeling is founded in the power of thought, and where there is little of
impulse or imagination,--"the depth, but not the tumult of the
soul,"[48]--there are but two influences which predominate over the
will,--time and religion. And what then remained, but that, wounded in
heart and spirit, she should retire from the world?--not to brood over
her wrongs, but to study forgiveness, and wait the fulfilment of the
oracle which had promised the termination of her sorrows. Thus a
premature reconciliation would not only have been painfully inconsistent
with the character; it would also have deprived us of that most
beautiful scene, in which Hermione is discovered to her husband as the
statue or image of herself. And here we have another instance of that
admirable art, with which the dramatic character is fitted to the
circumstances in which it is placed: that perfect command over her own
feelings, that complete self-possession necessary to this extraordinary
situation, is consistent with all that we imagine of Hermione: in any
other woman it would be so incredible as to shock all our ideas of
probability.

This scene, then, is not only one of the most picturesque and striking
instances of stage effect to be found in the ancient or modern drama,
but by the skilful manner in which it is prepared, it has, wonderful as
it appears, all the merit of consistency and truth. The grief, the love,
the remorse and impatience of Leontes, are finely contrasted with the
astonishment and admiration of Perdita, who, gazing on the figure of her
mother like one entranced, looks as if she were also turned to marble.
There is here one little instance of tender remembrance in Leontes,
which adds to the charming impression of Hermione's character.

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.

Thus she stood,
Even with such life of majesty--warm life--
As now it coldly stands--when first I woo'd her!

The effect produced on the different persons of the drama by this living
statue--an effect which at the same moment is, and is