42 



DISCOVERY 



await the final reconciliations. But this is about the 

 last thing we learn in Shakespeare's management of 

 the story — the first hint of such a purpose being 

 given only in the fifth act. To one who has read no 

 further than the close of the first part of the play, 

 she is simply a woman whose tongue (as she expresses 

 it) is " trumpet " to her " red-look'd anger." Shake- 

 speare, that is, had to give in speech what Greene 

 renders by a plain statement — that the nobles and 

 court generally were troubled to see their king so 

 unreasonably jealous ; and that their protests helped 

 at least to dissuade him from his first intention of 

 burning to death both his queen and the daughter 

 she had borne in prison. Hence Shakespeare invents 

 this woman with a tongue and her respectful husband. 

 The reason for creating both — so far as one might 

 gather from the first three acts — was simply that the 

 opposition of the court to the frenzy of Leontes might 

 be effectively voiced. They are born, so to speak, 

 of the essential difference between drama and narra- 

 tive. 



This explanation of the appearance of Paulina, as 

 we have seen, is really incomplete, if we are dealing 

 with more than the first acts of the play. No such 

 qualification is called for in Antigonus' case. Yet 

 Antigonus gives rise to the first remarkable alteration 

 of Greene's plot by Shakespeare ; and until we come 

 to the second part it is the only one that could possibly 

 rouse even a suspicion of any other motive than the 

 dramatisation of the plot. I refer to the last scene 

 of the first part, the abandonment of Perdita on the 

 coast of Bohemia. 



For clearness' sake Greene's account of the rescue 

 must be quoted at length. Fawnia (Perdita) was set 

 adrift by her jealous father, Pandosto (Leontes), in 

 " a little cock-boat." Tempest-tossed for " two whole 

 days ... at last . . . the little boat was driven with 

 the tide into the coast of Siciha " [Shakespeare reverses 

 the scenes] " where sticking upon the sands it rested." 

 The narrative then continues as follows ' : 



It fortuned that a poor mercenary shepherd that 

 dwelled in Sicilia, who got his living by other men's 

 flocks, missed one of his sheep ; and, thinking it 

 had strayed into the covert that was hard by, sought 

 very diligently to find that which he could not see; 

 and fearing either that the wolves or eagles had 

 undone him (for he was so poor that a sheep was 

 half his substance), wandered down to the sea cliffs 

 to see if perchance the sheep was browsing on the 

 sea ivy, whereon they greatly do feed ; but not 

 finding her there, as he was ready to return to his 

 flock he heard a child cry ; but knowing there was 

 no house near, he thought he had mistaken the sound 



' Save that, for convenience, it has hcvn here atul there 

 modernised. 



and that it was the bleating of his sheep. Wherefore. 

 looking more narrowly, as he cast his eye to the sea 

 he spied a little boat, from whence, as he attentively 

 listened, he might hear the cry to come. Standing 

 a good while in a maze, at last he went to the shore, 

 and wading to the boat, as he looked in he saw the 

 little babe lying all alone ready to die for hunger 

 and cold, wrapped in a mantle of scarlet richly em- 

 broidered with gold, and having a chain about the 

 neck. 



" The shepherd, who before had never seen so fair 

 a babe nor so rich jewels, thought assuredly that it 

 was some little god, and began with great devotion 

 to knock on his breast. The babe . . . began again to 

 cry afresh, whereby the poor man knew that it was a 

 child, which, by some sinister means, was driven 

 thither by distress of weather ; marvelling how such 

 a silly 'i.e. innocent] infant, which by the mantle 

 and the chain could not be but born of noble parentage, 

 should be so hardly crossed with deadly mishap. 

 The poor shepherd, perplexed thus with divers 

 thoughts, took pity of the child, and determined with 

 himself to carry it to the king, that there it might 

 be brought up according to the worthiness of birth, 

 for his abilit}^ could not afford to foster it, though 

 his good mind was willing to further it. Taking 

 therefore the child in his arms, as he folded the 

 mantle together the better to defend it from cold, 

 there fell down at his foot a very fair and rich 

 purse, wherein he found a great sum of gold ; which 

 sight so revived the shepherd's spirits that he was 

 greatly ravished with joy and daunted with fear ; 

 joyful to see such a sum in his power, and fearful, 

 if it should be known, that it might breed his further 

 danger. Necessity wished him at least to retain the 

 gold, though he should not keep the child : the sim- 

 plicity of his conscience feared him from such deceitful 

 bribery. Thus was the poor man perplexed with a 

 doubtful dilemma, until at last the covetousness of 

 the coin overcame him ; for what will not the greedy 

 desire of gold cause a man to do ? So that he 

 was resolved in himself to foster the child, and 

 with the sum to relieve his want. Resting thus 

 resolute in this point he left seeking of his sheep, 

 and, as covertlj^ and secretly as he could, went by a 

 by-way to his house, lest any of his neighbours should 

 perceive his carriage. As soon as he was got home, 

 entering in at the door, the child began to cry, which 

 his wife hearing, and seeing her husband with a j-oung 

 babe in his arms, began to be somewhat jealous, yet 

 marvelling that her husband should be so wanton 

 abroad sith he was so quiet at home ; but as women 

 are naturally given to believe the worst, so his wife, 

 thinking it was some bastard, began to crow against 

 her goodmaii, and taking up a cudgel (for the most 



