Examine the exchange between Mamillius and Hermione’s ladies at 2.1.1-19. What does this tell us about Mamillius’ character, his age, and his view of women? Consider also what sort of impression his father’s behaviour has made on him. Remember, he was present as Leontes began to fall apart in 1.2. He watched it happen, heard those strange and agitated monologues. Indeed, at 2.3.9-17 we learn that the experience has had rather adverse consequences. Of whom does Mamillius remind us here?
Now examine Hermione’s response to the charge laid against her (2.1.61-126). What do you think of her handling of this? Point to specific moments and offer comments.
Now recall Camillo, a noble lord and advisor to Leontes who, rather than do his bidding, opposes his master and suffers the consequences: permanent exile from his homeland. Camillo is very much like Kent in King Lear, a man close to the king who refuses to tolerate his sovereign’s foolish handling of his daughters and as a result is banished. Though Camillo is the most obvious example, there are other Kent-like figures in The Winter’s Tale. Two of these are Antigonus and his wife, Paulina.
Antigonus dares to criticize Leontes for his treatment of Hermione. But look closely at what he says at 2.1.135-52. This is a kind of oath-taking: “If this be true, why I’m a bunch of radish,” Falstaff might say. But Antigonus’ oaths, unlike Falstaff’s, are far from comical. What is he saying, why is it appropriate, and how might it qualify his sympathy for Hermione?
Now, what about Paulina? In 2.3 she brings Leontes’ daughter, born in prison, to the king in order to convince him to relent. There is a single line here that tells us much about Paulina’s reputation in Leontes’ eyes. To her coming, he says, “I knew she would” (2.3.44). How do you imagine Leontes delivering this line, and what does it tell us about both Paulina and his relationship with her? What about the dynamic here among Leontes, Antigonus, and Paulina? Notice that Leontes is highly reluctant to address Paulina directly. When she speaks directly to him, he answers not to her but to Antigonus (except briefly at line 59 and again at line 114 where he threatens her with witch-burning). Notice that it is only after she exits the stage that Antigonus and the other lords finally dare to oppose the king—as if Paulina had boldly set the example of the Kent-like courtier, the only one in the room courageous enough to confront a very powerful man.
This scene should remind us a little of Richard II—the ceremonial scene in which Richard oversees the dispute between Bolingbroke and Mowbray. Notice that the same ritualistic atmosphere prevails here. Even Leontes’ language (1-7), despite the fact that his wife is the accused, is officious, almost clinical. It seems so completely at odds with his earlier speeches and behaviour. Why?
Now examine Hermione’s initial answer to the charge. Understand that to be accused of treason in an early modern court is pretty much to be guilty as charged. Rarely did the accused escape being found guilty. Hermione seems to know this, yet speaks at length anyway—not because she hopes to be cleared of any wrongdoing, but because she is a noble figure who will demonstrate her integrity by rising to the occasion and proclaiming her innocence with dignity and grace. I like especially lines 30-35, where she compares her virtuous life to a fiction or play “played to take spectators.” There is a rich irony here, for Hermione slyly implies the theatrical dimension of a public trial in which she, the Queen, has been cast in the role of the accused. “My life is not a mere spectacle,” she seems to say; and yet, recognizing the theatrical context even while denouncing it, she plays the role beautifully. This reminds me a little of Hamlet, who beings by insisting that he has “that within which passeth show,” and that outward signs are merely “the actions that a man might play.” By Act 5, however, he seems to have accepted the role he is called to play and finally “acts” in a way that fulfills that role even while subverting it.
How does Hermione’s “performance” here differ from Paulina’s? Examine her language especially at lines 89-114.
The speed with which Shakespeare dispenses with the play’s tragic first half seems to say, “There’s your tragedy. Enjoy. Been there, done that. Now I want to do something new, something different.” This is late in Shakespeare’s career, after the harrowing tragedies—Hamlet, Macbeth, Othello, Lear, Antony and Cleopatra. And though he never could have returned to innocent comedies such as Dream and Twelfth Night, the later romances do embody Shakespeare’s attempt to re-envision comic drama.
The transition from tragedy to comedy begins at 3.1, the scene just prior to the trial. This short scene introduces a very different mood into the play, one that anticipates the latter half. Describe that mood.
Now turn to 3.3. The geographic location, the sea coast of Bohemia, functions metaphorically as a seam between the play’s two halves, with a vast expanse of water separating them. Water and the sea can be highly symbolic, connoting forgetfulness, for example, or baptism—both which signify a putting-away of the past and looking-toward the future.
Thinking of 3.3 as a transitional scene, in what ways does it combine opposing tendencies such as comedy and tragedy, humor and dramatic seriousness? I have much I’d like to say here, but I’d rather that you offer some analysis first.
Tomorrow we’ll deal with “Transition 2: 4.1-4.3,” as well as the longest single scene in all of Shakespeare, 4.4. To help you study that scene, I’ve emailed a brief synopsis of the character groups.
©Robert Whalen, 2025