Perdita's Spring

The passage in Act IV scene 4 from lines 111-129 shows a shift in the play brought on by Perdita. The passage, which includes references to virginity, flowers, and the changing of the seasons, exemplifies the character of Perdita and what her presence entails. Whereas before we had a tale of winter, death, and snow, we now are shown a theme of spring, life and love, and new growth.

The change of seasons is one of the first notable comparisons made by Perdita. While “blasts of January would blow you through” alludes to the harsh winds and fortunes of the dead of winter, “the winds of March with beauty” are what now lightly runs through the flowers and ease of spring. This is a joyous transition, and is brought on by Perdita herself. Besides offering some of the first pleasant dialogue in the play and entering in as the virgin beauty to start anew the chaotic plot after 16 years, she is also compared to Prosrpina. A quick reading of the footnotes shows that the Proserpina that she references is responsible in Greek myth for bringing about the seasons. Perdita plays a similar role, pulling the story out of cold and darkness.

Of course, no close reading would be complete without some sexual imagery! Do not despair, we have plenty. If winter is a time of desolation and barrenness, spring is a time of life and fertility. Besides references to “virgin branches”, “maidenheads” and to “die unmarried”, there is a more complex comparison to flowers. The plants are a symbol for sex and fertility, springing up and bringing new life after pollination. There is a reference to pollination of primroses, and also the possibility of virgins to be beautiful but doomed if they do not have sex. Perdita brings some powerful flower imagery to the table while flirting with Florizel, hinting towards a new love to direct the play. Her entry is a new blooming, using spring imagery to bring about a new beginning from the death and destruction of the winter’s tale.

Meggie's Close Reading: Act III, Scene 3, Lines 26-35

“Good Antigonus,
Since fate, against they better disposition,
Hath made thy person for the thrower-out
Of my poor babe, according to thine oath,
Places remote enough are in Bohemia;
There weep and leave it crying. And for the babe
Is counted lost forever, Perdita,
I prithee, call’t. For this ungentle business,
Put on thee by my lord, thou ne’er shalt see
Thy wife Paulina more.”

In Act III, Scene 3, lines 26-35, Antigonus recounts the words that the dead Hermione said to him in a dream. Hermione’s warning encompasses much of the suffering that occurs in the first three acts of the play, while also addressing the concept of being “lost” which continues to affect the play after the scene. The word “lost” applies obviously the baby, the speaker himself, and even the plot of the play.
While describing her newborn baby, Hermione says to Antigonus, “And for the babe/ is counted lost forever, Perdita/ I prithee, call’t” (Lines 31-33). The baby’s mother pessimistically thinks that her child is “lost forever,” which demonstrates her vast suffering. Not only is she dead herself, but she also believes her newborn to be fated to be “lost” to her family for the rest of her life. In fact, according to the footnotes, the name “Perdita” even means “the lost one” (Page 53). Hermione is so hopeless that she decides to include the child’s intrinsic “lost”-ness in her baby’s name.
The importance of the word “lost” intensifies when applied to the man who speaks the word himself, Antigonus. In her warning, perhaps even a curse, Hermione explains that for his “ungentle business,” Antigonus “ne’er shalt see/ Thy wife Paulina more” (Lines 33-35). Soon after, the stage directions calls for Antigonus to “[Exit, pursued by a bear.]” If this hint is not enough, once the Clown enters and explains that “the bear tore out [Antigonus’] shoulder bone,” and describes “how he cried to [him] for help” (Lines 92-93). Obviously, the bear has eaten Antigonus, and thus, and the character himself is lost. His demanding master and loyal wife will never see him again, much like the king believes he will never see his daughter again. In fact, simply because “fate… hath made thy person [Antigonus] for the thrower-out,” the man is punished (Lines 27-28).
Finally, if the baby is looked at as a metaphor for the first three acts of the play, the word “lost” also applies to the plot of the play itself. Thus far, the text has played out as a tragedy, with major characters such as Hermione and Mamillius dying. However, just after this point in the text, the play essentially switches from a tragedy to a comedy. Hermione even explains “Places remote enough are in Bohemia,” which indicates the switch in setting from Sicily to Bohemia, which occurs in the next scene (Line 30). “The babe,” or the sadness in the text, is “lost forever,” which makes way for Perdita to thrive (Line 31-32). The word “lost” can apply on a surface level to the baby, but can also be interpreted as describing the character Antigonus, or even the play itself.

Blog 7

Act IV.3 lines 1-4 (pg. 59)

“When daffodils begin to peer,

With heigh! the doxy over the dale.

Why, then comes in the sweet o’ the year,

For the red blood reigns in the winter’s pale”

This passage is said by Autolycus and opens scene 3 of Act IV. Autolycus is a robber and steals from the Clown later in the scene. This passage contrasts with the rest of the play thus far. It is almost an abrupt change in tone because there is little transition from the last scene to this one. The first three acts were more morbid and sad with the deaths of Hermione and Mamillius, the separation of Camillo and Leontes, and the abandonment of Perdita. This passage is more songlike and provides a switch of tone in the play. The mention of “daffodils” (line 1) indicates a change in season. It is no longer winter but spring or fall- when flowers would appear. Not only is the season different, but the tone is happier which matches the spring season. When the play was in the winter, the events were more sad and dark. Autolycus says that we are in “the sweet o’ the year,/ For the red blood reins in the winter’s pale.” This is a shift from the “red blood” of winter, to the happier, brighter time of spring. Autolycus also is more playful and jokes about the “doxy over the dale.” A doxy is a mistress or prostitute. While Autolycus jokes about a “doxy,” Leontes had made the possibility of Hermione having an affair his obsession. This obsession also contributed to the dark mood of winter. The spring now calls on him for a more "April fools" attitude towards sex. The more upbeat and happy Autolycus makes the play shift to more of a comedy and lighten the mood.

The Rogue's Point of View

Autolycus' begins his passage on page 87 by proclaiming "what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, his sworn brother, a very simple gentleman!" (IV.4.594-595). Being that Autolycus is on the surface a deceitful and bad-intentioned character, beginning the passage with this quote parallels his personality, for trickery and deceit are at the forefront of both. This passage also calls to mind when honesty and trust were discussed earlier in the play- the trial of Hermoine. In this trial honesty was not upheld and trust was severed, thus giving validity to Autolycus' claim. Leontes ignored the truth until both his wife and son were dead, and trust was severed at the very beginning of the play by an insignificant touch of the hand.

In this passage he also boasts that he "picked and cut most of their festival purses," (IV.4.612-613) which highlights another key aspect of his personality: petty crime. Although he is the most deceitful character in the play, it is notable that most of his crimes have no real victims. He steals with reckless abandon, yet no one really suffers. This is an interesting parallel to Leontes, who means well but ends up hurting himself and his loved ones. Finally, he pokes fun at "My clown, who wants but something to be a reasonable man," (IV.4.603-604) and the Shepherd for how easily they were tricked. This is deeply ironic, for Autolycus eventually ends up pledging to amend his life and become their loyal servant. From this passage his future change of character is not evident at all, and it is in this way that his sudden change of heart is made all the more surprising.

Why is the Shepherd so Afraid?

Shepard:

I cannot speak, nor think

Nor dare to know that which I know (Page 81, 450-451)

This line serves as a microcosm for the rest of the play, casting the acts of speaking, thinking, and knowing into their respective orders. Characters (most notably Hermione) speak before they act, and some even speak before they think. Thoughts become synonymous with reality when Camillo declares that “He thinks, nay, with all confidence he swears” (412) in reference to Leontes’ suspicions of infidelity. By likening thoughts to truth, Shakespeare sets up the audience to be duped. If the audience “dare[s] to know” that which it (seemingly) knows, then it will be fooled by the last scene of the play. By listening to the speech of the characters, the audience becomes trapped in the art of the play and fails to recognize reality.

By saying that he does not “dare to know” what he knows, the shepherd suggests that he does in fact have knowledge, but that he is afraid of what a realization may bring him. This line not only forces the audience to question what the shepherd knows, but to question what they themselves know, for what is accepted as fact, as “known,” is often later disproven. This links back to Camillo’s line in which “thinks” and “swears” become interchangeable and proves that knowledge may not be based so much in fact as it is in what the individual feels is “true” at that moment. If one thinks something is true, then who is to say it is not? Their consciousness is all they have. Perhaps this is why the shepherd does not dare to know that which he knows, for bringing knowledge to fruition would cause him to experience a frightening realization.

Blog #7: War on Carnations

In Perdita and Polixenes’ discussion on crossbreeding flowers (IV.iv.79-103), the two create opposing arguments on the integrity of hybridization, with Perdita disparaging crossbreeds as “nature’s bastards” (IV.iv.83) and Polixenes advocating them as “a bark of baser kind / By bud of nobler race” (IV.iv.94-95). Their opinions serve as an ironic metaphor for their own class standings in The Winter’s Tale that stands to be corrected or clarified by the end of the play.

Perdita's expressed preference for unaltered flowers that have not been manipulated by man highlights an irony in her engagement to Florizel as a precursor to the very creation she spurns, creating complications in their relationship that foreshadow steps needed to be taken to resolve this disparity. Perdita wishes to avoid these mongrel breeds because they are of an “art”—borne without nature’s hand, with their “painted” (IV.iv.101) quality suggesting artifice and in some way dishonesty to nature, inherently unworthy of being deemed truly beautiful. Metaphorically, however, Perdita herself is associated with a so-called lesser breed as a shepherd’s daughter, and her relationship with Florizel implies that she is condoning this mixing of breed or rank. This complicates her thinking as she argues with Polixenes because she is conscious of her own relationship that is so contrary to this belief, which she expresses earlier discomfort with to Florizel: “O, but sir / Your resolution cannot hold when ‘tis / Opposed…by th’ power of the king. / One of these two must be necessities, Which then will speak, that you must change this purpose, / Or I my life” (Iv.iv.36-40). This flaw seems not to establish so much a permanent characterization of fickleness in Perdita as it is an internal conflict that will be expanded and brought to resolution. In order to remove her own “painted” veneer as a shepherd’s daughter (among other conflicts to be resolved), the direction of the play moves to bring her to a truer marriage with confirmation of her royal lineage.

In the same need to present grounds for contention, Shakespeare echoes in Polixenes encouragement of crossbreeding but also censure of his son’s relationship with Perdita. This again sets a scene for Polixenes to challenge his own belief that the “bud of nobler race” is allowable by nature because “The art itself is nature” (IV.iv.97) by how he eventually responds to Florizel and Perdita’s marriage, which he calls “a scepter’s heir / That thus affects a sheephook!” (IV.iv.418-419). It is true that the resolution may be rendered moot when Perdita is restored to royalty, but I think that actually may be the resolution to this issue. Perhaps Polixenes’ conflict here is meant to add another agent to the clarification of Perdita’s status, and when it is done all conflicts are either resolved or nullified.

Leontes' Guilt

Passage (p.96) -

Leontes: I think so. Killed?

She I killed? I did so, but thou strikest me

Sorely to say I did. It is as bitter

Upon thy tongue as in my thought. Now, good now,

Say so but seldom.

Leontes is experiencing an emotional internal debate of whether to take personal responsibility for the death of Hermione. His repetition of "killed" followed by a question mark underscores the fact that he is reluctant to fully assume -- and admit -- responsibility, and that he questions whether or not he truly is to blame. Even though he follows the second question mark with "I did so," the words are immediately followed with "but" - which, again, reveals that he is possibly contesting his culpability.

Every line in this passage (excepting the last line, which is shorter) is divided by either a period or a question mark in the middle. This creates a choppy, divided effect that parallels Leontes' internal turmoil and division. He is an emotional wreck, and he does not know what to think about what he has done. His diction - using words such as "sorely" and "bitter" - produces a feeling of regret and personal disgust. Leontes is reluctant to fully accept responsibility for the results of his mistakes, but, deep down, he is aware of his guilt and he sorely regrets what he has done.