Act 4, Scene 1

Original Text

SCENE I. Enter Time, the Chorus.

Modern English

Scene 1. Time enters as Chorus.

Original Text

TIME. 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

Modern English

TIME. I am Time — I bring delight to some, and put all to the test: both joy and dread For good and ill, the force that creates error and brings it to light. Now, speaking in my own name, I spread my wings. Do not hold it against me

Original Text

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

Modern English

Or against my swift passing, that I leap Over sixteen years and leave those years unexamined — That gap belongs to me. It is within my power To overturn any law, and in a single hour of my own making To establish new customs or sweep old ones away. Let me move on

Original Text

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.

Modern English

As I always have, before the oldest law existed Or before anything now accepted came to be. I was witness To the times that gave rise to those customs; and I will do the same To the newest things now in fashion — I will make them seem dated Just as this story's opening now seems distant To what follows.

Original Text

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,

Modern English

If you will bear with me, I turn my hourglass, and carry you forward As though you had simply slept through the years between. Leontes, Crushed by the wreckage of his wild jealousy, so consumed by grief That he has shut himself away — picture him there, and now

Original Text

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.

Modern English

Transport yourselves, gentle audience, to fair Bohemia. Remember, too, that I mentioned the king's son before — His name is Florizel, and I give it to you now. And I must move quickly on To speak of Perdita, who has grown into a young woman Of astonishing grace and beauty.

Original Text

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,

Modern English

What happens to her from here I will not predict — let Time's news Come out as events unfold. A shepherd's daughter, And all that surrounds her story, all that follows: This is Time's subject matter. Permit it —

Original Text

If ever you have spent time worse ere now; If never, yet that Time himself doth say He wishes earnestly you never may. [_Exit._]

Modern English

If you have ever spent time less well than you will here. If not, then know that Time himself declares He earnestly hopes you never shall. [_He exits._]

The Winter's Tale

Act 4, Scene 1

Act 4, Scene 1