Summary
On the empty stage, an actor appears and announces himself as Time. He explains that in the space between acts 3 and 4, sixteen years have passed.
Following this brief prologue to act 4, the scene shifts to Polixenes’s castle in Bohemia, where the king is conversing with Camillo. Camillo has just asked leave of Polixenes to return to his native Sicily. His sixteen years away have made him homesick, and besides, the still-grieving Leontes would welcome him home with open arms. Polixenes replies that he cannot manage the kingdom without Camillo’s assistance. He then changes the subject to discuss the king’s son, Florizell. He has been spending a great deal of time away from court, at the house of a wealthy shepherd whose daughter is reputed to be a great beauty. Somewhat worried, Polixenes decides that they will don disguises and visit this shepherd’s house to see what Florizell is up to.
Meanwhile, in the Bohemian countryside, a jovial vagabond, peddler, and thief named Autolycus is wandering along a highway and singing loudly. He comes upon the Shepherd’s Son, who is on his way to market. He is counting a substantial sum of money, which he’ll use to buy supplies for a country sheep-shearing. Autolycus lies down on the road and pretends to be the victim of a violent robbery. As the Shepherd’s Son commiserates with Autolycus, the crafty thief picks his pockets. Once his victim has gone on his way, Autolycus resolves to make an appearance at the sheep-shearing, where he will adopt a disguise and perform another con.
Read a translation of Act 4: Scenes 1-3.
Analysis
Some critics have criticized Shakespeare’s use of Time to mark the passing of sixteen years. This criticism has generally come from critics whose neoclassical taste leads them to insist that plays should adhere to the principle known as “the unity of time.” This principle dictates that the action of a theatrical work should occur within the course of a single day. For critics of this ilk, such as Shakespeare’s contemporary, Ben Jonson, the unity of time was linked to two additional unities: the unity of action, which required a single main action, and the unity of place, which required a single location. These so-called “classical unities” were derived from Aristotle’s Poetics, where the Greek philosopher presented them as mere descriptions for a particular play. However, neoclassical critics took these unities as aesthetic requirements—particularly for tragedy. But just as Shakespeare’s use of Time in act 4’s opening scene breaks with the unity of time, it also marks a break with the unities of action and place. Time himself indicates as much when he references his “power / To o’erthrow law . . . / and o’erwhelm custom” (4.1.7–9)—that is, the law and custom associated with tragedy.
Significantly, Time’s cheeky reference also marks the play’s break from the tragic circumstances of acts 1–3 and a shift to the comic unfolding of acts 4–5. This shift occurs in parallel to the shift in location, from Sicily to Bohemia. Admittedly, the change of scene already took place at the end of act 3. However, the Bohemia of act 4 is rather different from the Bohemia of act 3, which was more closely related to the wintertime Sicilia of the previous action. Recall the violent storm that arrived as soon as Antigonus landed there. The whiteout conditions described by Shepherd’s Son strongly implied the oppressive weather of winter: “but I am not to say it is a sea, for it is now the sky; betwixt the firmament and it, you cannot thrust a bodkin’s point” (3.3.89–91). By contrast, Bohemia becomes altogether different with the entrance of Autolycus. As his song puts it, “When daffodils begin to peer, / When 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” (4.3.1–4). Winter has given way to “the sweet o’ the year,” a time of flowers and fairytales rather than jealousy and death.
Autolycus is one of Shakespeare’s more endearing rogues. His name is taken from Greek myth. In Homer, he was the finest mortal thief, while Ovid made him the son of Hermes, the trickster god and patron of thieves. He robs and cheats with abandon, but no one seems really hurt by him. As we’ll see later in the play, for instance, the Shepherd’s Son recovers well from being fleeced—well enough to accept Autolycus as a servant. Yet however harmless Autolycus might be, he’s a significant symbol of the comic action associated with the more pastoral location of Bohemia. His songs add a cheery musical backdrop to act 4, which is one of the most song-filled portions of any of Shakespeare plays. His cheerful attitude toward sex also contrasts with Leontes’s morbid obsession with infidelity. Finally, his small-scale villainy serves a purpose, if only to prevent the bucolic paradise around the Shepherd’s farm from seeming too perfectly idyllic. As we’ll see in the act’s long next scene, the romantic comedy of Florizell and Perdita needs him—his cheerful misbehavior provides an entertaining counterpoint to their earnest devotion.