Perdita

One day Prince Florizel, the son of the good king of Bohemia, was hunting near the shepherd's house in Sao Perdida, now grown up to a charming woman.

he made friends with the shepherd not telling him that he was the prince but saying that his name was doricles and that he was a private gentleman and then being deeply in love with the pretty perdita he came almost daily to see her the king could not understand what it was that took his son very nearly every day from home so he set people to watch him and then found out that the heir of the king of bohemia was in love with perdita the pretty shepherd girl polexenes wishing to see whether this was true disguised himself and went with the faithful camillo in disguise too to the old shepherd's house they arrived at the feast of sheep-shearing and though strangers they were made welcome there was dancing going on and a pedlar was selling ribbons and laces and gloves which the young men bought for their sweethearts florizel and perdita however were taking no part in this gay scene but sat quietly talking the king noticed the charming manners and great beauty of perdita never guessing that she was the daughter of his old friend leontes he said to camillo this is the prettiest low-born lass that ever ran on the green sward nothing she does or seems but smacks of something greater than herself too noble for this place and camillo answered in truth she is the queen of curds and cream but when florizel who did not recognize his father called upon the strangers to witness his betrothal with the pretty shepherdess the king made himself known and forbade the marriage adding that if she ever saw florizel again he would kill her and her old father the shepherd and with that he left them but camillo remained behind for he was charmed with perdita and wished to befriend her camillo had long known how sorry leontes was for that foolish madness of his and he longed to go back to sicily to see his old master he now proposed that the young people should go there and claim the protection of leontes so they went and the shepherd went with them taking perdita's jewels her baby clothes and the paper he had found pinned to her cloak leontes received them with great kindness he was very polite to prince florizel but all his looks were for perdida he saw how much she was like the queen hermione and said again and again such a sweet creature my daughter might have been if i had not cruelly sent her from me When the old shepherd heard that the king had lost a baby daughter who had been left upon the coast of Bohemia, he felt sure that Perdita, the child he had reared, must be the king's daughter.

And when he told his tale and showed the jewels in the paper, the king perceived that Perdita was indeed his long-lost child.

He welcomed her with joy and rewarded the good shepherd.

Poloxenes had hastened after his son to prevent his marriage with Perdita, but when he found out that she was the daughter of his old friend, he was only too glad to give his consent.

Yet Leontes could not be happy.

He remembered how his fair queen, who should have been at his side to share his joy in his daughter's happiness, was dead through his unkindness, and he could say nothing for a long time but— oh thy mother thy mother and ask forgiveness of the king of bohemia and then kiss his daughter again and then the prince florizel and then thank the good old shepherd for all his goodness then paulina who had been high all these years in the king's favour because of her kindness to the dead queen hermione said i have a statue made in the likeness of the dead queen a piece many years in doing and performed by the rare italian master giulio romano i keep it in a private house apart and there ever since you lost your queen i have gone twice or thrice a day will it please your majesty to go and see the statue so leontes and polixenes and florizel and perdita with camillo in their attendance went to paulina's house and there was a heavy purple curtain screening off an alcove and paulina with her hand on the curtain said she was peerless when she was alive and i do believe that her dead likeness excels whatever yet you have looked upon or that the hand of man hath done, therefore I keep it lonely apart, but here it is, behold, and say tis well.

Paulina, wife to Antigonus, read by Elizabeth Clert.

Perdita.

Performed by Karen Savage.

Polixenes.

Enter Time, the Chorus.

i that please some try all both joy and terror of good and bad that makes and unfolds error now take upon me in the name of time to use my wings impute it not a crime to me or my swift passage that i slide o'er sixteen years and leave the growth untried of that wide gap since it is in my power to o'erthrow law and in one's self-born hour to plant and o'erwhelm custom let me pass the same i am ere ancient order was or what is now received eyewitness to the times that brought them in so shall i do to the freshest things now reigning and make stale the glistering of this present as my tale now seems to it your patience this allowing i turn my glass and give my scene such growing as you had slept between Leontes leaving, the effect of his fond jealousies so grieving that he shuts up himself, imagine me, gentle spectators, that I now may be in fair Bohemia.

And remember well, I mentioned a son of the king's, Which Florizel I now name to you, And with speed so pace to speak of Perdita, Now grown in grace equal with wondering, What of her ensues I list not prophesy, But let time's news be known when tis brought forth, a shepherd's daughter and what to her adheres which follows after is the argument of time of this allow if ever you have spent time worse ere now if never yet that time himself doth say he wishes earnestly you never may

exit act four scene two bohemia the palace of polixenes Enter Polixenes and Camillo.

What is, I believe, of far more moment in Shakespeare's final period than any apparent serenity is first his general listlessness, his manifest lack of interest in what he was writing, and second his constant awakening out of this indifference to portray an ideal of youthful love, of youth itself, which fascinates him.

His Perdita, his Marina, his Miranda, his Florizel, his Imogen represent something more than a new fashion in romance.

I should say that their creator was trying to embody in these youthful lovers, striving to make real to himself an imagination that a new race of beings might be born for whom the knowledge and the love expressed in the phoenix and the turtle might be not a metaphysical but an actual and lived reality.

They represent a final attempt to solve the problem by conceiving a generation for whose consciousness the problem shall no longer exist.

If ever it can be done, the world and the human mind will be changed.

And this and nothing else, I believe, is what Shakespeare is saying when he has given up the struggle with the impossible.

His Perdita, his Miranda, his Marina, these newborn creatures who look on the world with a new vision and cry like Miranda, "O brave new world that has such creatures in it!" are merely the form of speech with which the great poet utters the truth of the great prophet.

Except ye be born again, ye can in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven.

What is, I believe, of far more moment in Shakespeare's final period than any apparent serenity is first his general listlessness, his manifest lack of interest in what he was writing, and second, his constant awakening out of this indifference to portray an ideal of youthful love, of youth itself, which fascinates him.

His Perdita, his Marina, his Miranda, his Florizel, his Imogen represent something more than a new fashion in romance.

I should say that their creator was trying to embody in these youthful lovers, striving to make real to himself an imagination that a new race of beings might be born for whom the knowledge and the love expressed in the Phoenix and the Turtle might be not a metaphysical, but an actual and lived reality.

They represent a final attempt to solve the problem by conceiving a generation for whose consciousness the problem shall no longer exist.

If ever it can be done, the world and the human mind will be changed.

And this and nothing else, I believe, is what Shakespeare is saying when he has given up the struggle with the impossible.

His Perdita, his Miranda, his Marina, these newborn creatures who look on the world with a new vision and cry, like Miranda, O brave new world that has such creatures in it, are merely the form of speech with which the great poet utters the truth of the great prophet.

Except ye be born again, ye can in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven.

of course it does both, right? Which is the structure of the wave, the structure of the tide.

So, you know, Florizel's wonderful description of Perdita as a wave of the sea, you know, both in motion and fixed in the fourth act of the Winter's Tale.

I mean, again, there is this, I mean, again, it's almost a habit, right, for a writer like Shakespeare to reach for, and, you know, clouds, another watery form that are metaphorically rich in Shakespeare and Hamlet and then to Cleopatra and other places.

And it seems to me that one of the things that happens when Shakespeare is writing about water is that he's really attuned to this combination of intimacy and alienation.

What is, I believe, of far more moment in Shakespeare's final period than any apparent serenity is first his general listlessness, his manifest lack of interest in what he was writing, and second his constant awakening out of this indifference to portray an ideal of youthful love, of youth itself, which fascinates him.

His Perdita, his Marina, his Miranda, his Florizel, his Imogen represent something more than a new fashion in romance.

I should say that their creator was trying to embody in these youthful lovers, striving to make real to himself an imagination that a new race of beings might be born for whom the knowledge and the love expressed in the phoenix and the turtle might be not a metaphysical but an actual and lived reality.

They represent a final attempt to solve the problem by conceiving a generation for whose consciousness the problem shall no longer exist.

The world and the human mind will be changed.

And this and nothing else, I believe, is what Shakespeare is saying when he has given up the struggle with the impossible.

His Perdita, his Miranda, his Marina, these newborn creatures who look on the world with a new vision and cry, like Miranda, O brave new world that has such creatures in it, are merely the form of speech with which the great poet utters the truth of the great prophet.

Except ye be born again, ye can in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven.

But the poor deserted little baby was found by a shepherd.

She was richly dressed and had with her some jewels, and a paper was pinned to her cloak, saying that her name was Perdita and that she came of noble parents.

The shepherd, being a kind-hearted man, took home the little baby to his wife, and they brought it up as their own child.

She had no more teaching than a shepherd's child generally has, but she inherited from her royal mother many graces and charms, so that she was quite different from the other maidens in the village where she lived.

One day, Prince Florizel, the son of the good king of Bohemia, was hunting near the shepherd's house and saw Perdita, now grown up to a charming woman.

He made friends with the shepherd, not telling him that he was the prince, but saying that his name was Doricles and that he was a private gentleman.

And then, being deeply in love with the pretty Perdita, he came almost daily to see her.

The king could not understand what it was that took his son nearly every day from home, so he set people to watch him, and then found out that the heir of the King of Bohemia was in love with Perdita, the pretty shepherd girl.

Archidamus, a Bohemian lord, read by Sonia.

An old shepherd, reputed father of Perdita, read by Craig Franklin.

Clown, his son,

read

second gentleman read by sonya

third gentleman read by thomas peter officer of the court of judicature read by craig franklin crier read by thomas peter

hermione queen to leontes read by sonya Perdita, daughter to Leontes and Hermione, read by Sonia.

Paulina, wife to Antigonus, read by Sonia.

What is, I believe, of far more moment in Shakespeare's final period than any apparent serenity is first his general listlessness, his manifest lack of interest in what he was writing, and second his constant awakening out of this indifference to portray an ideal of youthful love, of youth itself, which fascinates him.

His Perdita, his Marina, his Miranda, his Florizel, his Imogen represent something more than a new fashion in romance.

I should say that their creator was trying to embody in these youthful lovers, striving to make real to himself an imagination that a new race of beings might be born for whom the knowledge and the love expressed in The Phoenix and the Turtle might be not a metaphysical but an actual and lived reality.

They represent a final attempt to solve the problem by conceiving a generation for whose consciousness the problem shall no longer exist.

If ever it can be done, the world and the human mind will be changed.

And this and nothing else, I believe, is what Shakespeare is saying when he has given up the struggle with the impossible.

His Perdita, his Miranda, his Marina, these newborn creatures who look on the world with a new vision and cry like Miranda, "O brave new world that has such creatures in it!" are merely the form of speech with which the great poet utters the truth of the great prophet.

Except ye be born again, ye can in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven.