On arriving at Paulina’s house, Leontes looked all about for the statue, but though Paulina led them through a gallery rich with many rare and beautiful objects, they did not see there what Perdita had come to look upon--the statue of her mother. At last they reached the chapel, and Leontes ventured to remind Paulina of the object of their visit. “As she lived peerless,” replied Paulina, “so her dead likeness, I do well believe, excels whatever yet you looked upon, or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it lonely, apart. But here it is; prepare to see the life as vividly mocked as ever still sleep mocked death; behold, and say ’tis well!” Paulina drew back a curtain, and there, beautiful and motionless before their eyes, stood the majestic image of the dead Queen. For a moment they stood mute and breathless, gazing in amazement, for surely artist’s cunning had never wrought so wonderful a representation of life. “I like your silence,” said Paulina; “it the more shows off your wonder. But yet, speak. First you, my liege; comes it not something near?” “Her natural posture!” murmured Leontes. “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. But yet, Paulina, Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing so aged, as this seems.” “O, not by much,” said Polixenes. [Illustration: “O, thus she stood ... when first I wooed her!”] “So much the more our carver’s excellence,” said Paulina, “which lets go by some sixteen years, and makes her as if she lived now.” “As now she might have done,” sighed Leontes. “O, thus she stood, even with such life of majesty, warm life, as now it coldly stands, when first I wooed her!” “Give me leave,” said Perdita, “and do not say ’tis superstition that I kneel and then implore her blessing. Lady, dear Queen, that ended when I but began, give me that hand of yours to kiss.” “O, patience!” said Paulina. “The statue is but newly fixed; the colour is not dry.” She made a movement to draw the curtain, saying that if they looked much longer they would presently think the statue moved. But Leontes implored her to let him gaze at it longer, for the more he did so, the more lifelike it appeared; it seemed to breathe; there was light in the eyes; it recalled to him all his love and sorrow for the lost Hermione. “Let no man mock me,” he said, “for I will kiss it.” Paulina begged him to forbear, and again offered to draw the curtain, and again he prevented her. “Either forbear, and at once leave the chapel, or prepare for further amazement,” said Paulina. “If you can behold it, I’ll make the statue move indeed, descend, and take you by the hand. But then you’ll think--which I protest against--I am assisted by wicked powers.” “What you can make her do, I am content to look on,” said Leontes; “what to speak, I am content to hear; for it is as easy to make her speak as move.”