What I'm thinking of as I read this scene are the varying definitions of nobility, of high and low, of pure and bastard. This focus on rank and order reminds me of Leontes' downfall--how behaving like the Lord of All ruined his life. Yet of course, we know that Perdita really is his daughter--a princess, not a shepherdess. So even as he toys with the supposition, Shakespeare is not denying the power of rank. Or is he? He's a very slippery writer.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
A Winter's Tale, Act 4, Scene 4, Lines 1-180
This scene is gigantic, and Paul and I only managed to make our way up to line 180. Being a 12-year-old boy, he is already fed up with the romantic banter, though he does like the idea that Florizel and his father are both wearing disguises. He says to tell you that his favorite lines are "But come, our dance, I pray. Your hand, my Perdita. So turtles pair that never mean to part." He was disappointed to learn that turtles means turtledoves because the image of inseparable dancing turtles definitely improved the love stuff.