separates her from her lover, she breathes not a single word which could lead us to impugn either her delicacy or her dignity. The impression of her perfect beauty and airy elegance of demeanour is conveyed in two exquisite passages: Still betters what is done. "What you do When you speak, sweet, I'd have you do it ever : when you sing, I'd have you buy and sell so, so give alms, Pray so; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too: when you do dance, I wish you Nothing but that; move still, still so, and own "I take thy hand, this hand, As soft as dove's down, and as white as it, Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow That 's bolted by the northern blasts twice o'er." The artless manner in which her innate nobility of soul shines forth through her pastoral disguise is thus brought before us at once: "This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever Ran on the green-sward; nothing she does or seems Her natural loftiness of spirit breaks out where she is menaced and reviled by the King, as one whom his son has degraded himself by merely looking on. She bears the royal frown without quailing; but the moment he is gone the immediate recollection of herself, and of her humble state, of her hapless love, is full of beauty, tenderness, and nature: "Even here undone ! I was much afeard; for once or twice, I was about to speak and tell him plainly, I told you what would come of this. Beseech you, "How often have I told you 't would be thus ! But till 't were known!" Perdita has another characteristic, which lends to the poetical delicacy of the delineation a certain strength and moral elevation which is peculiarly striking. It is that sense of truth and rectitude, that upright simplicity of mind, which disdains all crooked and indirect means, which would not stoop for an instant to dissemblance, and is mingled with a noble confidence in her love and in her lover. In this spirit is her answer to Camillo, who says, courtier-like: "Besides you know Prosperity 's the very bond of love, Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together To which she replies: "One of these is true; I think affliction may subdue the cheek, 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 heaven sets 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 mother's death, ... "One of the prettiest touches of all was when, at the relation of the queen's death, with the manner how she came to 't . . . how attentiveness wounded her daughter; till, from one sign of dolour to another, she did, with an 'Alas,' I would fain say, bleed tears," her deportment, too, as she stands gazing on the statue of Hermione, fixed in wonder, admiration, and sorrow, as if she too were marble,— "O royal piece! There's magic in thy majesty, which has From thy admiring daughter took the spirits, are touches of character conveyed indirectly, and which serve to give a more finished effect to the beautiful picture. . . . The character of Hermione exhibits what is never found in the other sex, but rarely in our own, yet sometimes-dignity without pride, love without passion, and tenderness without weakness. To conceive a character in which there enters so much of the negative, required perhaps no rare and astonishing effort of genius, such as created a Juliet, a Miranda, or a Lady Macbeth; but to delineate such a character in the poetical form, to develop it through the medium of action and dialogue, without the aid of description; to preserve its tranquil, mild, and serious beauty, its unimpassioned dignity, and at the same time keep the strongest hold upon our sympathy and our imagination; and out of this exterior calm produce the most profound pathos, the most vivid impression of life and internal power-it is this which renders the character of Hermione one of Shakspeare's masterpieces. 23 Hermione is a queen, a matron, and a mother; she is good and beautiful, and royally descended. A majestic sweetness, a grand and gracious simplicity, an easy, unforced, yet dignified self-possession, are in all her deportment, and in every word she utters. She is one of those characters of whom it has been said proverbially that "still waters run deep." Her passions are not vehement, but in her settled mind the sources of pain or pleasure, love or resentment, are like the springs that feed the mountain lakes, impenetrable, unfathomable, and inexhaustible. Shakspeare has conveyed (as is his custom) a part of the character of Hermione in scattered touches and through the impressions which she produces on all around her. surpassing beauty is alluded to in few but strong terms: "This jealousy Is for a precious creature; as she is rare Praise her but for this her out-door form "If, one by one, you wedded all the world, "I might have look'd upon my queen's full eyes, and left them More rich for what they yielded." Her The expressions "most sacred lady," "dread mistress," "sovereign," with which she is addressed or alluded to, the boundless devotion and respect of those around her, and their confidence in her goodness and innocence, are so many additional strokes in the portrait. . . . She receives the first intimation of her husband's jealous suspicions with incredulous astonishment. It is not that, like Desdemona, she does not or cannot understand; but she 24 will not. When he accuses her more plainly, she replies with a calm dignity: "Should a villain say so, The most replenish'd villain in the world, He were as much more villain; you, my lord, This characteristic composure of temper never forsakes her; and yet it is so delineated that the impression is that of grandeur, and never borders upon pride or coldness: it is the fortitude of a gentle but a strong mind, conscious of its own innocence. Nothing can be more affecting than her calm reply to Leontes, who, in his jealous rage, heaps insult upon insult, and accuses her before her own attendants as no better than one of those to whom the vulgar give bold titles." "How will this grieve you, When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that Her mild dignity and saintlike patience, combined as they are with the strongest sense of the cruel injustice of her husband, thrill us with admiration as well as pity; and we cannot but see and feel that for Hermione to give way to tears and feminine complaints under such a blow would be quite incompatible with the character. Thus she says of herself, as she is led to prison : "There's some ill planet reigns; |