“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.