Time speaks in bouncy, slightly self-mocking rhyming couplets — the only character in the play to address the audience directly and admit he's bending dramatic convention. Watch for how he preemptively defends skipping sixteen years, as if he knows the audience will object.
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 self-born hour
To plant and o’erwhelm custom. Let me pass
The same I am, ere ancient’st order was
Or what is now received. I witness to
The times that brought them in; so shall I do
To th’ 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
Th’ effects 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 o’ th’ 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 th’ 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.
I, who bring both pleasure and pain, good and bad events, Who creates and reveals mistakes through time, Now take on myself, as Time itself, To use my wings. Don't hold it against me Or my swift passage, that I fly across Sixteen years, leaving untested the growth Of that long period, since I have the power To overthrow law, and in a single hour To plant and destroy custom. Let me pass As I always have, before the oldest order existed Or what is now accepted. I have witnessed All the times that created these customs; so shall I Continue to witness the newest things now ruling, and make seem old The brightness of this present moment, just as my story Will seem old to future generations. With your patience in allowing this, I turn my hourglass, and advance my scene as much As if you had slept through the passage. Leontes, having overcome The effects of his foolish jealousy, so consumed with grief That he shuts himself away, imagine me, Gentle audience, that I am now In beautiful Bohemia, and remember well That I mentioned a son of the king, whom I call Florizel; and swiftly I move To tell you of Perdita, now grown in grace Equal to any wonder. What happens next with her I will not prophesy; but let Time's news Be revealed when it happens. A shepherd's daughter, And all that belongs to her, what follows after, Is the subject of Time. Allow this, If you have ever wasted time before; If you have not, know that Time himself says He earnestly wishes you never may.
I'm Time, and I bring joy and sorrow, success and failure, I create and then reveal all the mistakes made. Now I'm going to use my power, As Time itself, to move things forward. Don't blame me For skipping ahead so fast, for jumping across Sixteen years and just ignoring all that time In between, since I can do whatever I want— I can break rules, and in just one moment I can change everything people believe in. I've been around Since the very beginning, before any laws existed, And I'll keep going with whatever new things come next. I've seen everything change, and I'll keep watching. Just like I'm doing now—making this present moment Seem old and boring, the way your story will seem old someday too. So if you'll trust me to skip sixteen years, I'll speed things up for you, so it's like you slept through it. Leontes has gotten over his crazy jealousy—it's broken him so much he just locks himself in his room. Imagine I'm there now, in Bohemia, that beautiful place. Remember how I mentioned the king's son? His name is Florizel, and I'm going to tell you about Perdita next, who's grown up Into an amazing person. I won't tell you what happens to her, You'll find that out when it happens. A shepherd's daughter, And everything connected to her—that's what I'm going to talk about. I hope you're okay with me skipping time like this. If you've wasted time before, then you'll forgive me. If you haven't, well, Time itself is hoping you never do.
i'm time i bring joy and pain i'm moving ahead sixteen years skipping all the time in between i can do whatever i want i've seen everything change just imagine sixteen years went by leontes got over his jealousy it broke him so he hides i'm in bohemia now the king's son is florizel and perdita is grown up beautiful i won't tell you what happens next forget about wasted time
I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate: ’tis a sickness
denying thee anything; a death to grant this.
I ask you, good Camillo, don't ask anymore: it hurts me To deny you anything; it would be death to grant this request.
Come on, Camillo, stop asking: it kills me To say no to you; but saying yes to this would destroy me.
stop asking camillo it kills me to say no but i can't let you go
It is fifteen years since I saw my country. Though I have for the most
part been aired abroad, I desire to lay my bones there. Besides, the
penitent king, my master, hath sent for me; to whose feeling sorrows I
might be some allay, or I o’erween to think so,—which is another spur
to my departure.
It has been fifteen years since I have seen my homeland. Though I have lived Mostly abroad, I wish to end my life there. Also, my Repentant king, my master, has sent for me; in his deep sorrow I Might offer some comfort, or so I think, Which is another reason I must depart.
It's been fifteen years since I was home. Even though I've spent most of my time Traveling, I want to go back and settle there. Plus, the king Who I serve, who's sorry for what he did, has asked me to come back; his Sorrows are so deep and I might be able to help him feel better, at least that's what I hope, and that's another reason I have to leave.
fifteen years since home want to go back my king sent for me he's suffering i might help him gotta go
Almost uniquely in the Shakespeare canon, the Time Chorus in The Winter's Tale directly addresses the audience to announce a sixteen-year gap — and explicitly asks forgiveness for it. Shakespeare knew this was unusual: his plays typically maintain the fiction of continuous time (or at least seamless compression). Here he abandons that completely. The Time character speaks in rhyming couplets rather than blank verse, marking himself as structurally outside the play's world — not a character within the drama but the mechanism of the drama itself. The self-deprecating tone ('if you've spent time worse ere now; / If never, yet that Time himself doth say / He wishes earnestly you never may') is disarming: Time admits the convention is a stretch, and bets on the audience's goodwill. It works because the play has earned it — we've been through the winter tragedy, and now we need summer. Keep watching for how quickly the tone shifts from this formal poetry to the earthy naturalism of Autolycus's entrance.
As thou lov’st me, Camillo, wipe not out the rest of thy services by
leaving me now: the need I have of thee, thine own goodness hath made;
better not to have had thee than thus to want thee. Thou, having made
me businesses which none without thee can sufficiently manage, must
either stay to execute them thyself, or take away with thee the very
services thou hast done, which if I have not enough considered (as too
much I cannot) to be more thankful to thee shall be my study; and my
profit therein the heaping friendships. Of that fatal country Sicilia,
prithee speak no more; whose very naming punishes me with the
remembrance of that penitent, as thou call’st him, and reconciled king,
my brother; whose loss of his most precious queen and children are even
now to be afresh lamented. Say to me, when sawest thou the Prince
Florizel, my son? Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not being
gracious, than they are in losing them when they have approved their
virtues.
As you love me, Camillo, do not erase all your past service to me by Leaving now: the need I have for you comes from your own goodness; It would have been better never to have had you than to lose you now. You have created Business that no one but you can properly handle, so you must Either stay and manage it yourself, or take with you all the Talent you've already given me. And if I have not shown enough gratitude— Though I cannot show too much— I will make being thankful to you my life's work; my reward Will be an increase in our friendship. Please, do not speak anymore of that tragic land Sicilia; just saying its name tortures me by reminding me Of that king—the penitent one, as you call him, my brother— Who lost his beloved wife and children, Who must now grieve them afresh. Tell me, when did you last see my son Florizel? Kings are no less unfortunate if their children lack virtue Than they are in losing children who have shown their worth.
As much as you care about me, Camillo, do not throw away all your years of service by Leaving me now: the reason I need you so much is because you're so good at everything you do; Honestly, it would be better if I'd never met you than to lose you now. You've set things up so that only you can run them, so you have to Stay and do it yourself, or you're taking all that knowledge with you. And if I haven't Shown enough appreciation for what you've done—which I never could anyway— I'm going to spend my whole life thanking you, and the best reward Will be having a stronger friendship with you. Please, don't mention Sicilia anymore; It kills me to remember That king—the one who's sorry for what he did, my brother— Who lost his most precious wife and their children, And has to feel that loss all over again. Last thing: when did you see my son Florizel? A king suffers just as much if his children are worthless As he does if he loses children who actually turned out to be good people.
don't leave me you've made yourself too important it's better to never have known you than to lose you only you know how to run things stay or you're taking everything with you i can't thank you enough stop talking about sicilia it hurts remembering leontes my brother who lost his wife and kids when did you see my son florizel kings suffer if kids are bad or dead
Sir, it is three days since I saw the prince. What his happier affairs
may be, are to me unknown, but I have missingly noted he is of late
much retired from court, and is less frequent to his princely exercises
than formerly he hath appeared.
Sir, it has been three days since I saw the prince. What activities He might be enjoying, I don't know, but I have noticed He has recently withdrawn from court a great deal, and is not as regular In his royal pursuits as he used to be.
Sir, I haven't seen the prince in three days. I don't know what he's doing That's making him happy, but I've definitely noticed He's been staying away from court a lot recently, and he's not keeping up With his royal responsibilities like he usually does.
haven't seen the prince in three days don't know what he's up to he's been avoiding court not doing his royal stuff like usual
I have considered so much, Camillo, and with some care; so far that I
have eyes under my service which look upon his removedness; from whom I
have this intelligence, that he is seldom from the house of a most
homely shepherd, a man, they say, that from very nothing, and beyond
the imagination of his neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable estate.
I have thought about this carefully, Camillo, and I have been watching it closely; in fact, I Have people watching him, and they have told me He is almost always at the house of a simple shepherd— A man, they say, who from nothing at all, beyond what his neighbors could have imagined, Has become unbelievably wealthy.
I've been thinking about this a lot, Camillo, and I'm keeping an eye on it; I actually Have spies watching him, and they tell me He's constantly at this shepherd's house— A peasant, apparently, who somehow went from having nothing, more than anyone around him thought possible, To being incredibly rich.
been watching him i have people spying he's always at this shepherd's house the shepherd went from nothing to super rich weirdly rich
I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a daughter of most rare
note: the report of her is extended more than can be thought to begin
from such a cottage.
I have heard, sir, of such a man who has a daughter of remarkable Reputation: her fame has spread far beyond what you would expect From such a poor cottage.
I've heard about that, sir—this shepherd has a daughter who's Incredibly famous: she's got a reputation that goes way further than You'd ever expect from a simple peasant's hut.
i've heard about her the shepherd's daughter she's super famous for someone from a poor cottage
The conversation between Polixenes and Camillo is easy to read past, but it contains the play's most sustained portrait of a man caught between loyalty and longing. Camillo has been in Bohemia for fifteen years — effectively exiled, even if voluntarily, because serving Polixenes became necessary when serving Leontes became impossible. He wants to go home. Leontes has sent for him. And Polixenes is essentially saying: you can't go, because I need you, and besides, thinking about Sicilia makes me sad. Camillo's predicament is the predicament of the good person trapped between two competing obligations. His compliance here — 'I willingly obey your command' — is the compliance of someone who has calculated that this is not the moment to push. He will find a way back to Sicilia eventually, but not today.
That’s likewise part of my intelligence: but, I fear, the angle that
plucks our son thither. Thou shalt accompany us to the place, where we
will, not appearing what we are, have some question with the shepherd;
from whose simplicity I think it not uneasy to get the cause of my
son’s resort thither. Prithee, be my present partner in this business,
and lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia.
That's also part of what I've learned: but I fear She's the hook that's drawn my son there. You will go with us to that place, where we will, In disguise, have a conversation with the shepherd; From his simplicity I think it won't be hard To find out why my son keeps going there. Please, be my partner in this scheme, And forget about wanting to return to Sicilia.
That's also what I've heard: but I'm pretty sure She's the reason my son keeps going there. You're going to come with us to that place, and we'll Go in disguise and talk to the shepherd; He's a simple man, so it shouldn't be hard To get him to tell us why my son is always there. Please, help me out with this, And stop thinking about Sicilia for now.
i figured she's probably why he keeps going you're coming with us we'll go in disguise talk to the shepherd he's simple we'll figure out why stop thinking about sicilia
I willingly obey your command.
I readily obey your command.
I'll do whatever you say.
yes i'll do it
My best Camillo! We must disguise ourselves.
Excellent Camillo! It is necessary that we conceal our true identities.
Camillo, my best friend! We need to change how we look.
camillo let's hide who we are
The Reckoning
The play's second half begins with one of Shakespeare's boldest theatrical gestures: a character called Time simply walks onstage and apologizes for skipping sixteen years. It works because it's completely unashamed — Time doesn't explain, Time announces. Then we're in a Bohemia that functions as the mirror image of Sicilia: warmth, friendship, practical concern. But there's trouble here too — a king's son disappearing to a shepherd's cottage. The play hasn't finished with the consequences of the first half yet.
If this happened today…
Imagine a TV drama that opens its third season with a 'Previously On' narrator who explicitly says: 'We're skipping sixteen years. Leontes has been in therapy. Perdita has grown up as a shepherd's daughter and is apparently extraordinary. Florizel has been driving to the same farm every day and his father has noticed.' Then two men — an exiled courtier now running the court, and the king he serves — have a very human conversation about a teenager who keeps sneaking off to see a girl, and decide to check her out in person, wearing baseball caps.