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| Character | Paulina | |
|---|---|---|
| Gender | Female | |
| Age Range(s) | Teenager (13-19), Young Adult (20-35), Adult (36-50) | |
| Type of monologue / Character is | Angry, Scolding, Crying, Lamenting, Complaining, Frustrated | |
| Type | Dramatic | |
| Period | Renaissance | |
| Genre | Romance, Drama, Comedy | |
| Description | Paulina scolds the king about Hermione's death | |
| Details | ACT 3 Scene 2 | |
Summary
Leontes is the king of Sicily. His childhood friend King Polixenes is visiting him from Bohemia. Polixenes is about to go back home and Leontes begs him to stay. Polixenes doesn't change his mind until Hermione, Leonte's wife, persuades him otherwise. Leontes is convinced that his wife is cheating on him with Polixenes and asks his servant Camillo to poison Polixenes. Camillo, however, warns Polixenes and they both flee Sicily. The king considers his escape a proof of his wife's infidelity and orders to arrest her. He also sends two lords to the Oracle of Delphi to get confirmation that his suspicions are true. She is later brought in front of a formal court in order to give her a trial. She is charged with infidelity and is accused of having helped Polixenes and Camillo escape. Hermione defends herself but the king doesn't listen to her words and sentences her to death. The two lords come back with news from the Oracle. The Oracle says that Hermione is innocent and that his son will die soon. At first Leontes doesn't believe the Oracle but when they bring news that his son just died he accepts it and curses himself. Hermione faints and is carried away. Moments later, Paulina, Hermione's servant, enters the room and declares that the Queen just died because of the pain for her son's death. Paulina curses the king and blames his poor judgement.
Written by Administrator
| Excerpt |
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| PAULINA What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me? What wheels? racks? fires? what flaying? boiling? In leads or oils? what old or newer torture Must I receive, whose every word deserves To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny Together working with thy jealousies, Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle For girls of nine, O, think what they have done And then run mad indeed, stark mad! for all Thy by-gone fooleries were but spices of it. That thou betray'dst Polixenes,'twas nothing; That did but show thee, of a fool, inconstant And damnable ingrateful: nor was't much, Thou wouldst have poison'd good Camillo's honour, To have him kill a king: poor trespasses, More monstrous standing by: whereof I reckon The casting forth to crows thy baby-daughter To be or none or little; though a devil Would have shed water out of fire ere done't: Nor is't directly laid to thee, the death Of the young prince, whose honourable thoughts, Thoughts high for one so tender, cleft the heart That could conceive a gross and foolish sire Blemish'd his gracious dam: this is not, no, Laid to thy answer: but the last,--O lords, When I have said, cry 'woe!' the queen, the queen, The sweet'st, dear'st creature's dead, and vengeance for't Not dropp'd down yet. |
