Early Modern Drama · Character Archetypes

CLOWN

in The Winter's Tale — Shakespeare, William

Metadata

PlayThe Winter's Tale
AuthorShakespeare, William
Year (catalogued)1623
First performance1610
Decade1620s
GenreRomance
Play typeAdult Professional
CompanyKing's Men
Speech prefix(es)Clo. | Clowne. | Clow.
Words1614
Characters8070
Typicality0.59 (cosine to cluster centroid)
TCP idA11954.14
BritDrama no.1631
ClusterCluster 0 — Clowns, beggars & street sellers

Important excerpts

Passages from this character's speech that contain the most distinguishing words for Cluster 0 (shillings, tom, guts, mutton, wares, dan…). Matches are highlighted.

matter merrily set down: or a very pleasant thing indeed, and sung lamentably. Beleeee me, thou talkest of and admirable con ceited fellow, has he any unbraided Wares? Prithee bring him in, and let him approach sin ging. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst take no money of me, but being enthralled as I am, it will

Full speech

Hillo, loa. I have seen two such sights, by Sea & by Land: but I am not to say it is a Sea, for it is now the sky, be betwixt the Firmament and it, you cannot thrust a bodkins point. I would you did but see how it chases, how it ra ges, how it takes up the shore, but that's not to the point: O, the most piteous cry of the poor souls, sometime to see they, and not to see they: Now the Ship boring the Moon with her main Mast, and anon swallowed with yeast and froth, as you'd thrust a Cork into a hogs head. And then for the Land-service, to see how the Bear tore out his shoulder-bone, how he cried to me for help, and said his name was Antigonus, a Nobleman: But to make and end of the Ship, to see how the Sea flap dragon'd it: but first, how the poor souls roared, and the sea mocked them: and how the poor Gentleman roa read, and the Bear mocked him, both roaring louder then the sea, or weather. Now, now: I have not winked since I saw these sights: the men are not yet cold under water, nor the Bear half dined on the Gentleman: he's at it now. I would you had been by the ship side, to have helped her; there your charity would have lacked footing. You're a mad old man: If the sins of your youth are forgiven you, you're well to live. Gold, all Gold. Go you the next way with your Findings, I'll go see if the Bear be gone from the Gentleman, and how much he hath eaten: they are never cursed but when they are hungry: if there be any of him left, I'll bury it. Let me see, every Leauen-weather toddes, every tod yields pound and odd shilling: fifteen hundred shorn, what comes the wool too? I cannot do't without Compters. Let me see, what am I to buy for our Sheepe-shearing-Feast? Three pound of Sugar, five pound of Currence, Rice: What will this sister of mine do with Rice? But my father hath made her Mistress of the Feast, and she lays it on. She hath made-me four and twenty Nosegays for the shea rers (three-man song-men, all, and very good ones) but they are most of them Means and Bases; but one Pur itan amongst them, and he sings Psalms to hornpipes. I must have Saffron to colour the Warden Pies, Mace: Dates, none: that's out of my note: Nutmegs, seven; a Raze or two of Ginger, but that I may beg: Four pound of Prewyns, and as many of Reysons of that Sun. In the name of me. Alack poor soul, thou hast needs of more rags to lay on thee, rather then have these off. Alas poor man, a million of beating may come to a great matter. What, by a horseman, or a footman? Indeed, he should be a footman, by the garments he has left with thee: If this be a horseman's Coat, it hath seen very hight service. Lend me thy hand, I'll help thee. Come, lend me thy hand. Alas poor soul. How now? Canst stand? Dost lack any money? I have a little money for thee. His vices you would say: there's no virtue whipped out of the Court: they cherish it to make it stay there; and yet it will no more but abide. Out upon him: Prig, for my life Prig: he haunts Wakes, Fairs, and Beare-baitings. Not a more cowardly Rogue in all Bohemia ; If you had but looked big, and spit at him, hee'ld have run. How do you now? Shall I bring thee on the way? Then fartheewell, I must go buy Spices for our sheepshearing. Come on: strike up. Not a word, a word, we stand upon our manners, Come, strike up. He could never come better: he shall come in: I love a ballad but even too well, if it be doleful matter merrily set down: or a very pleasant thing indeed, and sung lamentably. Beleeee me, thou talkest of and admirable con ceited fellow, has he any unbraided Wares? Prithee bring him in, and let him approach sin ging. If I were not in love with Mopsa, thou shouldst take no money of me, but being enthralled as I am, it will also be the bondage of certain Ribbons and Gloves. Is there no manners left among maids? Will they wear their plackets, where they should bear their faces? Is there not milking-time? When you are going to bed? Or kill-hole? To whistle of these secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling before all our guests? It's well they are whispering: clamor your tongues, and not a word more. Have I not told thee how I was cozened by the way, and lost all my money. Fear not thou man, thou shalt loose nothing here What hast here? Ballads? Come-on, lay it by: and let's first see more Bal lads: We'll buy the other things anon. Lay it by too; another. We'll have this song out anon by our selves: My Father, and the Gent are in sad talk, & wee'll not trouble them: Come bring away thy pack after me, Wenches I'll buy for you both: Pedlar let's have the first choice; follow me girls. pray heartily he be at Palace. We are but plain fellows, Sir. Your Worship had Like to have given us one, if you had not taken your self with the manner. Advocate's the Court-word for a Pheazant: say you have none. This cannot be but a great Courtier. He seems to be the more Noble, in being fanta sticall: A great man, I'll warrant; I know by the picking on's Teeth. Think you so, Sir? Ha the old-man ere a Son Sir (do you hear) an't Like you, Sir? 'Marry will I: and you shall help to put him in the ground. See, see: what a man you are now? there is no other way, but to tell the King she's a Changeling, and none of your flesh and blood. What manner of Fellow was he that robbed you? You have of these Pedlars, that have more in them, then youled think (Sister.) Nay; but hear me. She being none of your flesh and blood, your flesh and blood ha not offended the King, and so your flesh and blood is not to be punished by him. Show those things you found about her (those secret things, all but what she ha with her:) This being done, let the Law go whistle: I warrant you. Indeed Brother in Law was the farthest off you could have been to him, and then your Blood had been the dearer, by I know how much and ounce. He seems to be of great authority: close with him, give him Gold; and though Authority be a stub born Be re, yet he is oft led by the Nose with Gold: show the inside of your Purse to the outside of his hand, and no more ado. Remember oned, and stayed alive. In so e S rt, Sir: but though my case be a pit tifull one, I hope I shall not S worser out oh it. Comfort ood continued . We must to the King, and she our strange sights: st know it's none of your Daugh my are gone else. Sir, I will give you as much as this old man do's when the But sinesse I pe S ed, and remain (as he says) your pawn till it be borough you. We are blessed, in this man: as I may say, even blessed. You are well met (Sir.) you denied to fight with me this other day, because I was no Gentleman born. See you these Clothes? say you see them not, and think me still no Gentleman born: You were best say these Robes are not Gentlemen born. Give me the Lie: do: and try whither I am not now a Gentleman born. I, and have been so any time these four hours. So you have: but I was a Gentleman born be before my Father: for the Kings Son took me by the hand, and called me Brother: and then the two Kings called my Father Brother: and then the Prince (my Bro there) and the Princess (my Sister) called mv Father, Father; and so we wept: and there was the first Gentlemanlike tears that ever we shed. I: or else 'twere hard luck, being in so p eposte rous estate as we are. Thou wilt amend thy life? Give me thy hand: I will swear to the Prince, thou art as honest a true Fellow as any is in Bohemia. Not swear it, now I am a Gentleman? Let Boors and Francklins say it, I'll swear it. If it be never so false, a true Gentleman may swear it, in the behalf of his Friend: And I'll swear to the Prince thou art a tall Fellow of thy hands, and that thou wilt not be drunk: but I know thou art no tall Fell low of thy hands, and that thou wilt be drunk: but I'll swear it, and I would thou wouldst be a tall Fellow of thy hands. I, by any means prove a tall Fellow: if I do not wonder, how thou darest venture to be drunk, not being a tall Fellow, trust me not. Hark, the Kings and the Prin ces (our Kindred) are going to see the Queens Picture. Come, follow us: we'll be thy good Master's.

Plot summary

Plot — The Winter's Tale
Polixenes of Bohemia is coming to the end of a nine-month stay at the Sicilian court of Leontes, his childhood playmate. Leontes cannot persuade him to extend his stay, but the pregnant queen, Hermione, has more success. Leontes conceives a suspicion that Polixenes and Hermione have committed adultery, and that her unborn child is a bastard. He commands Camillo to poison Polixenes, but instead Camillo warns the intended victim and escapes with him to Bohemia. Leontes arrests Hermione and sends to the oracle of Apollo for confirmation of her adultery. She gives birth to a daughter in prison, and Paulina hopes to bring Leontes to his senses by showing him the baby; instead, he orders her husband, Antigonus, to take it out of his dominions and abandon it. Hermione is tried for adultery and treason. The oracle, when read, exonerates her and foretells that, unless the lost be found, Leontes will have no heir. Leontes refuses to believe it, whereupon his son Mamillius, who fell sick when his mother was arrested, dies. Hermione collapses in court and is later reported dead. Antigonus abandons the baby on the coast of Bohemia, and is eaten by a bear. The child, Perdita, is found and adopted by an old shepherd. Sixteen years pass. The penitent Leontes, still mourning Hermione, attempts to recall Camillo to Sicily, but Polixenes will not let him go. Worried by rumours that Prince Florizel is courting a shepherd’s daughter, Polixenes attends the sheep-shearing feast in disguise. When it becomes clear that Florizel intends to marry Perdita without consulting his father, Polixenes intervenes and threatens awful reprisals. Camillo helps Florizel and Perdita to abscond to Sicily, knowing that Polixenes will follow them, enabling him to return home at last. Leontes welcomes the newcomers, who include not only the Bohemian royal family but also the old shepherd, who produces the objects found with baby Perdita; these establish her identity as Leontes’ long-lost daughter. The two kings are reconciled, and Polixenes withdraws his objection to his son’s marriage. The court visits a newly sculpted statue of Hermione in Paulina’s chapel. It turns out to be Hermione herself, still alive and awaiting the return of her daughter.