It seemed a brilliant idea at first - she could see her husband first-hand to find if he was truly repentant - but Paulina had waxed far too much about the skill of the sculptor, how the tribute to the lost Queen Hermione would be as though she lived again.
And now after almost half the year, this charade was the dullest thing she had ever done, forced to hold herself completely still in the same position every time Paulina had to let Leontes' messengers examine the "statue" to provide descriptions to the king, who was still too heartbroken to bring himself to see his queen's "likeness" in person.
Oh, how I must stand like patience on a monument, Hermione thinks, and if she must endure this pretense any longer, she may reconsider if this grief was worth her love indeed.
Oops, I cribbed from Twelve Night, but I did think for a long time that "She sat like patience on a monument,/Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?" was from The Winter's Tale and spent ages trying to find it in the wrong play.
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And now after almost half the year, this charade was the dullest thing she had ever done, forced to hold herself completely still in the same position every time Paulina had to let Leontes' messengers examine the "statue" to provide descriptions to the king, who was still too heartbroken to bring himself to see his queen's "likeness" in person.
Oh, how I must stand like patience on a monument, Hermione thinks, and if she must endure this pretense any longer, she may reconsider if this grief was worth her love indeed.
Oops, I cribbed from Twelve Night, but I did think for a long time that "She sat like patience on a monument,/Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?" was from The Winter's Tale and spent ages trying to find it in the wrong play.