O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort
That I have had of thee!
Oh dignified and good Paulina, what a great source of comfort you have been to me!
Paulina, you've been so dignified and kind - honestly, you've been my main source of comfort through all this.
paulina you've been so good to me
What, sovereign sir,
I did not well, I meant well. All my services
You have paid home: but that you have vouchsaf’d,
With your crown’d brother and these your contracted
Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit,
It is a surplus of your grace which never
My life may last to answer.
What, your majesty, I haven't done well in my actions, though my intentions were good. You have fully rewarded all my services; but the fact that you have been willing, along with your royal brother and these your destined heirs, to visit my humble house - that is an excess of kindness that I will never be able to repay in my lifetime.
My lord, I didn't actually do anything all that impressive, even though I meant well. You've already paid me back fully for everything I've done. But the fact that you and the crown prince would actually come visit my little house? That's way more than I deserve and something I'll never be able to thank you enough for.
i didnt do anything special but you came anyway
O Paulina,
We honour you with trouble. But we came
To see the statue of our queen: your gallery
Have we pass’d through, not without much content
In many singularities; but we saw not
That which my daughter came to look upon,
The statue of her mother.
Oh Paulina, we honor you with the bother of a visit. But we came to see the statue of our queen. We have been through your art gallery and enjoyed it quite a bit - you have many remarkable works - but we haven't yet seen what my daughter came specifically to see: the statue of her mother.
Paulina, we're glad to be here, even if we're a pain. Really though, we came to see that statue of the queen. We went through your whole gallery and really liked it - you've got some incredible pieces - but we still haven't seen the one thing my daughter actually wanted to see: the statue of her mother.
we came to see the statue of her mother
As she liv’d peerless,
So her dead likeness, I do well believe,
Excels whatever yet you look’d upon
Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it
Lonely, apart. But here it is: prepare
To see the life as lively mock’d as ever
Still sleep mock’d death. Behold, and say ’tis well.
Paulina undraws a curtain, and discovers Hermione standing as a
statue.
I like your silence, it the more shows off
Your wonder: but yet speak. First you, my liege.
Comes it not something near?
As she lived without equal, so her lifeless image, I believe quite well, surpasses anything you have ever seen before or anything a human hand has created; therefore I keep it apart, alone. But here it is: prepare yourself to see a life so realistically rendered in art as sleep that mocks death. Look at it and tell me it's wonderful. I like your silence - it makes your amazement all the more apparent - but still speak. You first, your majesty. Doesn't it look somewhat like her?
She was the most beautiful woman alive, right? So this statue of her - and I really think this is true - it's better than anything you've ever laid eyes on before. Better than anything any sculptor has ever made. That's why I keep it hidden away. But here it is. Get ready, because it looks more alive than someone sleeping who looks almost dead. Come on, look at it and tell me what you think. I love that you're not saying anything - that tells me how amazing you think it is - but come on, say something. You go first, sir. Don't you think it looks just like her?
ive never seen anything like this shes so alive
Her natural posture!
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.
Her natural stance! Criticize me, statue, so that I can truly say you are Hermione; or rather, you are her because you don't criticize me - she was as delicate as a newborn baby with grace. But Paulina, Hermione wasn't nearly as wrinkled as this, nothing nearly as aged as this looks.
That's exactly how she stood! Stone, scold me so I can say you're really Hermione - or actually, you're her exactly because you won't criticize me. She was so gentle, like an innocent baby. But wait, Paulina - Hermione wasn't this wrinkled. She didn't look this old.
thats her pose but shes too old that cant be right
O, not by much!
Not by much!
Not by much, really!
nah not really
So much the more our carver’s excellence,
Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her
As she liv’d now.
That just shows how excellent our sculptor is - he has let pass about sixteen years and made her look as she would if she were alive right now.
That just shows how amazing the sculptor is. He skipped over sixteen years and made her look exactly as she would look today, right now.
thats how good the artist is shes aged perfectly
As now she might have done,
So much to my good comfort as it is
Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood,
Even with such life of majesty, warm life,
As now it coldly stands, when first I woo’d her!
I am asham’d: does not the stone rebuke me
For being more stone than it? O royal piece,
There’s magic in thy majesty, which has
My evils conjur’d to remembrance and
From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,
Standing like stone with thee.
As she might appear now, creating something both wonderful and painful for me - now piercing my soul. She stood like this, with such life and dignity, warm life, as the statue now coldly stands, when I first courted her! I'm ashamed: doesn't the statue rebuke me for being more stone-hearted than it? Oh royal work of art, there's magic in your majesty, which has summoned my past crimes to my memory and has taken away the courage even from her admiring daughter, who stands like stone next to you.
As she'd look today, and that kills me - it's actually breaking my heart. She stood like this, all alive and regal and warm and full of life, just like this statue looks cold and still right now, when I first pursued her! I should be ashamed. Doesn't that stone reproach me for being more heartless than a rock? God, look at that royal piece - there's something magical about it that's making me remember all the terrible things I've done and has stolen the voice right out of her daughter, who's standing there stiff as a board next to it.
this is how she was and i want to die i was so cruel
And give me leave,
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.
And please allow me, and don't call it superstition when I kneel and ask for her blessing. Lady, dear queen, who died when I was just born, give me your hand to kiss.
Let me do this, and don't think I'm being superstitious. I want to kneel down and ask for her blessing. Mother - my dear queen who died right when I was born - give me your hand so I can kiss it.
let me kneel let me kiss your hand mother
O, patience!
The statue is but newly fix’d, the colour’s
Not dry.
Oh, have patience! The statue has just been completed, the paint isn't even dry yet.
Wait, be careful! The statue was just finished - the paint's still wet!
wait the paint isnt dry
My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on,
Which sixteen winters cannot blow away,
So many summers dry. Scarce any joy
Did ever so long live; no sorrow
But kill’d itself much sooner.
My lord, your grief was laid upon you too heavily, and sixteen winters cannot blow it away, nor so many summers dry it out. Hardly any joy ever lasts this long; no sorrow ever kills itself more slowly.
Sir, your sorrow was pressed down way too heavily on you. Sixteen years of cold winters can't blow it away, and all those summers can't dry it out. Joy almost never lasts this long, and neither does sadness - usually sadness dies out much faster than this.
your grief has lasted so impossibly long that must hurt
Dear my brother,
Let him that was the cause of this have power
To take off so much grief from you as he
Will piece up in himself.
My dear brother, let the one who caused this suffering have the ability to take away as much of your grief as he will bear in himself.
Brother, whoever caused all this pain should be able to take some of it off your shoulders and carry it himself.
whoever hurt you should carry that pain
The statue scene asks you to hold two interpretations simultaneously, and Shakespeare is careful never to resolve the tension. In one reading, it is a miracle — Hermione genuinely died (as Paulina announced in 3-2) and was restored by the power of faith, music, and Leontes's penitence. This reading is supported by the scene's religious staging, Paulina's invocation, and the play's fairy-tale logic. In the other reading, it is a practical deception: Hermione survived, hid in Paulina's house for sixteen years, waited for the oracle to be fulfilled, and walked down from a pedestal when Paulina cued the music. This reading is supported by Hermione's own lines ('knowing by Paulina that the oracle gave hope thou wast in being, have preserved myself to see the issue'). Shakespeare leaves both open. The play's title is The Winter's Tale — a kind of story, as the Clown in 5-2 says, 'which will have matter to rehearse, though credit be asleep.' Whether you believe it literally doesn't matter. Something was restored.
Indeed, my lord,
If I had thought the sight of my poor image
Would thus have wrought you—for the stone is mine—
I’d not have show’d it.
Indeed, my lord, if I had thought that seeing my statue would affect you this way - since I made it - I wouldn't have shown it to you.
Actually, sir, if I'd known seeing my sculpture would upset you like this - since I made it myself - I wouldn't have let you see it.
i made that i didnt know it would hurt you
Do not draw the curtain.
Don't close the curtain.
Don't cover it back up.
dont hide it
No longer shall you gaze on’t, lest your fancy
May think anon it moves.
You shouldn't keep staring at it, or else you might soon start imagining that it moves.
If you keep looking at it, you're going to start thinking it's actually moving.
if you stare youll think its alive
Let be, let be.
Would I were dead, but that methinks already—
What was he that did make it? See, my lord,
Would you not deem it breath’d? And that those veins
Did verily bear blood?
Leave it alone, leave it alone. I would rather be dead, except that I already think - Who was the one who created this? Look here, wouldn't you say it's breathing? And that those veins truly contain blood?
Leave it, leave it alone. I'd rather be dead - except, wait, I'm already starting to think - Who made this thing? Look, you can see - isn't it breathing? And you can practically see the blood moving through those veins.
who made this its breathing there's blood
Masterly done:
The very life seems warm upon her lip.
It's masterfully done: the very appearance of life seems warm on her lips.
That's incredible work. You can practically feel the warmth and life right there on her lips.
her lips look alive thats incredible
The fixture of her eye has motion in ’t,
As we are mock’d with art.
The fixed position of her eye seems to have movement in it, as if art is making fools of us.
The way her eye is set, it looks like it's actually moving - like the art is playing tricks on us.
her eyes look like theyre moving this is messing with us
I’ll draw the curtain:
My lord’s almost so far transported that
He’ll think anon it lives.
I'll close the curtain: my lord is becoming so overwhelmed that he'll soon start believing it's actually alive.
I need to cover this up: you're getting so carried away that in a second you're going to convince yourself it's actually breathing.
im closing this youre about to think shes alive
O sweet Paulina,
Make me to think so twenty years together!
No settled senses of the world can match
The pleasure of that madness. Let ’t alone.
Oh sweet Paulina, let me believe it for twenty years! No sane person's ordinary thoughts can compare to the pleasure of that kind of madness. Leave me alone with it.
Paulina, let me believe that for twenty years! There's nothing that makes a sane person happy that comes close to the joy of that kind of beautiful delusion. Just leave it.
let me believe shes alive for twenty years
I am sorry, sir, I have thus far stirr’d you: but
I could afflict you further.
I'm sorry, sir, that I've upset you this much; but I could cause you even more emotion.
I'm sorry I've gotten you this worked up, but honestly, I could make this even more intense if you want.
im sorry i got you worked up
Do, Paulina;
For this affliction has a taste as sweet
As any cordial comfort. Still methinks
There is an air comes from her. What fine chisel
Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me,
For I will kiss her!
Do it, Paulina; because this emotional distress is as pleasant as any comforting drink. I still think there is a breath coming from her. What skilled hand could ever carve breath itself? Don't let anyone laugh at me, because I'm going to kiss her!
Go ahead, Paulina - this kind of heartbreak is actually sweet, like medicine that helps. I swear I can feel breath coming from her. How could any sculptor carve actual breathing? Everyone can laugh at me all they want - I'm going to kiss her!
im going to kiss her i dont care if it looks crazy
Good my lord, forbear:
The ruddiness upon her lip is wet;
You’ll mar it if you kiss it, stain your own
With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?
Good sir, don't do it: the color on her lips is still wet; you'll damage it if you kiss it and stain your own lips with paint. Should I close the curtain?
Sir, wait - the paint on her lips is still wet. You'll mess it up if you kiss her and get paint all over yourself. Want me to cover it back up?
the paint is wet you cant kiss her
No, not these twenty years.
No, I won't have the curtain closed for the next twenty years.
No way, not for twenty years.
no keep it out
So long could I
Stand by, a looker on.
I could stand here watching like this for so long.
I could just stand here and look at her forever.
i could stand here forever
Either forbear,
Quit presently the chapel, or resolve you
For more amazement. 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.
Either stop looking, or leave the chapel right now, or prepare yourself for even greater wonder. If you can witness it, I will make the statue truly move and come down and take you by the hand. But then you'll believe (which I object to) that I'm being helped by evil forces.
Either stop right now, leave the chapel, or get ready for something crazy. If you can handle watching, I'll make that statue actually move and come down and take your hand. But then you're going to think (and I want to be clear - I don't like that you'd think this) that I'm working with dark magic.
if you stay im making this move dont think its witchcraft
If Hermione is the play's emotional center, Paulina is its structural one. From the moment she announces Hermione's death in Act 3, she has been running a sixteen-year plan: manage Leontes's grief, prevent remarriage (using his own oath), wait for Perdita to be found (as the oracle requires), and then, when all the conditions are met, orchestrate the return. She designs the scene in her own house, with a curtain, a pedestal, and music on command. She writes Leontes's role for him — the penitent, the admirer, the believer — and he plays it perfectly. The statue scene is her theatrical production: she is director, playwright, and priest simultaneously. When she mourns Antigonus at the end, it is the first moment in the play when Paulina stops managing everyone else's feelings and allows her own. The woman who kept Hermione alive for sixteen years is finally permitted, in the last fifty lines, to grieve.
What you can make her do
I am content to look on: what to speak,
I am content to hear; for ’tis as easy
To make her speak as move.
Whatever you can make her do, I'm happy to watch: whatever she can say, I'm happy to hear; because it's just as easy to make her speak as to make her move.
Whatever happens, I'll watch. I'll listen to whatever she says. It doesn't matter - if you can make her move, you can make her talk.
make her do whatever i just want to see her
It is requir’d
You do awake your faith. Then all stand still;
Or those that think it is unlawful business
I am about, let them depart.
What is required is that you awaken your belief. Then everyone stay still; or if anyone thinks what I'm about to do is unlawful, let them leave.
You need to have faith. Everyone stay quiet and still. If anyone thinks I'm about to do something wrong, they should leave now.
believe stay still if you doubt me leave
Proceed:
No foot shall stir.
Go ahead: no one will move.
Do it. Nobody's going anywhere.
go ahead well all stay
’Tis time; descend; be stone no more; approach;
Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come;
I’ll fill your grave up: stir; nay, come away.
Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him
Dear life redeems you. You perceive she stirs.
Hermione comes down from the pedestal.
Start not; her actions shall be holy as
You hear my spell is lawful. Do not shun her
Until you see her die again; for then
You kill her double. Nay, present your hand:
When she was young you woo’d her; now in age
Is she become the suitor?
It's time; come down; be stone no longer; approach; strike with amazement all who look upon you. Come; I'll fill your grave: wake up; come now. Give to death your stiffness, because from him dear life redeems you. You see she moves. Don't be alarmed; her actions will be as holy as you hear my spell is lawful. Don't avoid her until you see her die again; because then you would kill her twice. Now, give her your hand: when she was young you courted her; now in her age has she become the suitor?
It's time. Come down. Stop being a statue. Come here and amaze everyone looking at you. Come on, I'm bringing you back: wake up. Leave your numbness behind, because life itself is saving you from death. Can you see? She's moving! Don't be scared. What she does will be completely pure because my magic is real and lawful. Don't turn away from her until she dies for real - because if you do that, you'll kill her twice. Come on, take her hand. She used to be young when you chased her; now is she the one chasing you?
wake up come back stop being stone shes yours again
[_Embracing her._] O, she’s warm!
If this be magic, let it be an art
Lawful as eating.
Oh, she's warm! If this is magic, let it be as acceptable and natural as eating.
Oh, she's warm! If this is magic, that's fine by me—it's as natural as eating.
shes warm! if this is magic its fine. as natural as eating
She embraces him.
She embraces him.
She embraces him.
she embraces him
She hangs about his neck.
If she pertain to life, let her speak too.
She's holding onto his neck. If she's really alive, she should speak too.
She's clinging to him. If she's actually alive, she needs to say something.
shes hugging him if shes alive say something
Ay, and make it manifest where she has liv’d,
Or how stol’n from the dead.
Yes, and let her explain where she has been living, or how she was stolen from death.
Yeah, and she should tell us where she's been all this time or how she came back from the dead.
where has she been how is she alive
That she is living,
Were it but told you, should be hooted at
Like an old tale; but it appears she lives,
Though yet she speak not. Mark a little while.
Please you to interpose, fair madam. Kneel
And pray your mother’s blessing. Turn, good lady,
Our Perdita is found.
If I merely told you she was alive, you would mock it like an old wives' tale; but it seems clear she's alive, even though she hasn't spoken yet. Watch for a moment. Would you please step in, fair lady? Kneel and ask for your mother's blessing. Turn, good lady, our Perdita has been found.
If I just told you she was alive, you'd laugh at me like I was telling an old fairy tale. But you can see she's really alive - she just hasn't said anything yet. Wait a minute. Mother, please do something. Kneel down and get your mother's blessing. Look, your daughter Perdita - she's been found!
shes really alive even if shes quiet perdita is found
You gods, look down,
And from your sacred vials pour your graces
Upon my daughter’s head! Tell me, mine own,
Where hast thou been preserv’d? where liv’d? how found
Thy father’s court? for thou shalt hear that I,
Knowing by Paulina that the oracle
Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserv’d
Myself to see the issue.
You gods, look down, and from your sacred vessels pour your blessings upon my daughter's head! Tell me, my own child, where have you been kept? Where did you live? How did you find your father's court? Because you should know that I, knowing from Paulina that the prophecy gave hope that you were still alive, have kept myself alive to see this outcome.
Gods, please look down from heaven and shower all your blessings on my daughter's head. Tell me, sweetie, where have you been all this time? Where did you grow up? How did you find your way to your father's court? You should know that when Paulina told me the prophecy said you might be alive, I just lived for the day when I'd get to see you.
my daughter where have you been i stayed alive for this
There’s time enough for that;
Lest they desire upon this push to trouble
Your joys with like relation. Go together,
You precious winners all; your exultation
Partake to everyone. I, an old turtle,
Will wing me to some wither’d bough, and there
My mate, that’s never to be found again,
Lament till I am lost.
There's time enough for that conversation; don't spoil their joy right now by asking for that same story. Go together, all of you who have won this prize; share your happiness with everyone. I, an old dove, will fly myself to some dead branch, and there my mate, who will never be found again, I will mourn until I fade away.
There's plenty of time for all that later; don't ruin this moment by making them retell their story. All of you go together - you've all won something precious here, and spread that happiness around to everyone. Me? I'm like an old dove. I'm going to fly off to some dead branch somewhere and spend the rest of my life mourning my mate who's never coming back.
go be happy i have to mourn my mate is gone
O peace, Paulina!
Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent,
As I by thine a wife: this is a match,
And made between ’s by vows. Thou hast found mine;
But how, is to be question’d; for I saw her,
As I thought, dead; and have in vain said many
A prayer upon her grave. I’ll not seek far—
For him, I partly know his mind—to find thee
An honourable husband. Come, Camillo,
And take her by the hand, whose worth and honesty
Is richly noted, and here justified
By us, a pair of kings. Let’s from this place.
What! look upon my brother: both your pardons,
That e’er I put between your holy looks
My ill suspicion. This your son-in-law,
And son unto the king, whom heavens directing,
Is troth-plight to your daughter. Good Paulina,
Lead us from hence; where we may leisurely
Each one demand, and answer to his part
Perform’d in this wide gap of time, since first
We were dissever’d. Hastily lead away!
Oh peace, Paulina! You should take a husband with my approval, as I will take a wife with yours: this is a marriage arranged between us by our vows. You have found my wife; but how, that still needs to be explained; for I saw her dead, or thought I did, and have said many prayers at her grave in vain. I won't search far - because I partly know his mind - to find you an honorable husband. Come, Camillo, and take her by the hand, whose worth and honest character is widely noted and now confirmed here by us, a pair of kings. Let's leave this place. What! Look at my brother: both of you, forgive me that I ever let my evil suspicion come between your holy regard for each other. This is your son-in-law, and son to the king, whom heaven guiding has betrothed to your daughter. Good Paulina, lead us away from here; where we can at leisure each question and answer for the part performed in this wide gap of time, since we were first separated. Lead us away quickly!
Paulina, stop that! You need to get a husband - I'll give you my blessing, and you give me yours to get a wife: that's the deal between us by our promises. You found my wife for me; but how that happened - that's something we still need to figure out because I thought she was dead and I even prayed at her grave for nothing. I know what he wants anyway, so I'm not going to look far to find you a good husband. Camillo, come hold her hand - everyone knows how good and honest this guy is, and we, a pair of kings, are confirming it right here. Let's get out of here. Look at your king - you both forgive me, okay? I let my terrible doubts come between you and your respect for each other. This man here is your son-in-law and also the king's son, and heaven has made sure he's betrothed to your daughter. Paulina, take us out of here; we can go slowly and everyone can tell their story and explain what happened in all those missing years since we got separated. Let's go!
paulina marry him i approve lets just be happy again
The Reckoning
This is among the most extraordinary endings in all of Shakespeare: a scene that works simultaneously as miracle and sleight of hand, as resurrection and survival. The play has been building to this for five acts, and what Shakespeare gives us is not a simple reunion but a ceremony — Paulina conducting it like a priest, asking for faith, ordering music, commanding the dead to descend. When Hermione steps off the pedestal and Leontes says 'O, she's warm!' the audience, like Leontes, cannot quite decide if they're watching magic or the most ordinary thing in the world. Whether or not you believe it, something has happened that the first half of the play made impossible. The Winter's Tale earns this.
If this happened today…
A woman whose husband spent sixteen years convinced she was dead — and who spent that time in a small room, kept alive by one friend who knew the truth — finally walks into the room where he's grieving over her photograph. She has been standing very still. He has been talking to the photograph. The friend who knows the whole story says: put on some music. Wake up. Come down. And she does. Her husband touches her face. She's warm. The friend says: I could explain all this, but it would sound like an old tale. So I won't.