his life in sorrowing for her misfortune, fainted; and Leontes,
pierced to the heart by the news, began to feel pity for his unhappy
queen, and he ordered Paulina, and the ladies who were her attendants,
to take her away, and use means for her recovery. Paulina soon returned,
and told the king that Hermione was dead.
When Leontes heard that the queen was dead, he repented of his cruelty
to her; and now that he thought his ill-usuage had broken Hermione's
heart, he believed her innocent; and now he thought the words of the
oracle were true, as he knew "if that which was lost was not found,"
which he concluded was his young daughter, he should be without an heir,
the young Prince Mamillius being dead; and he would give his kingdom now
to recover his lost daughter: and Leontes gave himself up to remorse,
and passed many years in mournful thoughts and repentant grief.
The ship in which Antigonus carried the infant princess out to sea was
driven by a storm upon the coast of Bohemia, the very kingdom of the
good King Polixenes. Here Antigonus landed, and here he left the little
baby.
Antigonus never returned to Sicily to tell Leontes where he had left his
daughter, for as he was going back to the ship, a bear came out of the
woods, and tore him to pieces; a just punishment on him for obeying the
wicked order of Leontes.
The child was dressed in rich clothes and jewels; for Hermione had made
it very fine when she sent it to Leontes, and Antigonus had pinned a
paper to its mantle, and the name of _Perdita_ written thereon, and
words obscurely intimating its high birth and untoward fate.
[Illustration: PERDITA]
This poor deserted baby was found by a shepherd. He was a humane man,
and so he carried the little Perdita home to his wife, who nursed it
tenderly; but poverty tempted the shepherd to conceal the rich prize he
had found: therefore he left that part of the country, that no one might
know where he got his riches, and with part of Perdita's jewels he
bought herds of sheep, and became a wealthy shepherd. He brought up
Perdita as his own child, and she knew not she was any other than a
shepherd's daughter.
The little Perdita grew up a lovely maiden; and though she had no better
education than that of a shepherd's daughter, yet so did the natural
graces she inherited from her royal mother shine forth in her untutored
mind, that no one from her behaviour would have known she had not been
brought up in her father'
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