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Thunderings, Not Words: Aspects of Pauline Style in Pericles and The Winter's Tale.

Introduction: Shakespeare's Biblical Styles

IT IS ONE OF THE STRANGE ironies of Shakespeare's dramatic art that its distinctiveness resides in the playwright's ability to divest himself from his characters. Unlike the plays of Jonson or the poetry of Donne, a singular feature of Shakespearean drama is precisely its lack of Shakespearean personality--he generally prefers to separate his own values and attitudes from the thinking, speaking, and acting of his dramatis personae, who exhibit, as a result, a powerfully realized awareness of and responsiveness to themselves, their fellow characters, and their dramatic environments. Critics have recognized how this separation informs other aspects of Shakespeare's dramatic practice, including his use of language: "[Characters'] styles are individualized," observes Brian Vickers, "to a degree that no other dramatist ever achieved, and within their idiolects their registers vary according to the changes in their situation." (1) Shakespeare's characters, in other words, express their styles as fully as their religious beliefs or political commitments, and these styles evolve as the characters grow and their stories unfold.

If Shakespeare's characters bear unique and dynamic relationships to their modes and habits of expression, the development of these relations nonetheless depends on the patterns and processes of literary inspiration, imitation, and adaptation. As he fashions his dramatic speeches, Shakespeare draws verbal tropes and techniques from a variety of stylistic models, from classical authorities like Ovid and Seneca to contemporary professionals like Christopher Marlowe and John Fletcher. (2) And as in his approach to his narrative sources, Shakespeare consistently absorbs and transforms those stylistic sources in fresh and complex ways. According to Jessica Wolfe, "Shakespeare often employs several different modes of imitation in the same play and even in the same scene; he competes with his source texts by altering and interrogating them ... he reads 'eclectically' by conjoining texts 'freely and unpredictably.'" (3) Gaps remain, however, in our map of Shakespeare's stylistic influences, especially in relation to one of his favorite sources of creative inspiration, the Bible. Scholars have recently begun to reassess how Shakespeare engages with the Bible to shape and enrich his dramatic work, emphasizing the extent to which he appropriates biblical and exegetical texts to develop the characters, themes, and poetic textures of his plays. (4) Yet questions persist concerning Shakespeare's knowledge and use of biblical styles. Did he read biblical texts for style, as he read and responded to the styles of other ancient and modern texts? And if so, did a biblical style inspire and inform his approach to any particular speeches?

In an essay on Shakespeare's interactions with the Bible in his later tragicomedies, Helen Wilcox explores "the difficult question of biblical style" and its influence over the diction, turns of phrase, and rhetorical forms of plays like Measure for Measure and Cymbeline, arguing that Shakespeare employed a "cumulative biblical style" to compose their "serious songs" and other "special moments of intensity." For Wilcox, a relatively coherent biblical style develops from "the recurring spiritual questions, the shared symbolism, and the webs of intertextual references" that bind together the books of the Bible, and Shakespeare practices this style when his language and ideas are "related to the Bible with such intertextual density that the effect itself becomes biblical." (5) I agree that Shakespeare occasionally synthesizes material from a variety of biblical texts to evoke a broad sense of 'the biblical,' without necessarily imitating the style of any biblical text in particular. (6) In this essay, though, I am going to argue that Shakespeare recognized and occasionally imitated the styles associated with individual biblical texts and authors. Specifically I will argue that Shakespeare studied and adapted the prose style of Saint Paul's New Testament letters to develop the verse and prose of two late plays, Pericles, Prince of Tyre and The Winter's Tale. Though distinctive in its strong focus on the rhetorical dimensions of Paul's texts, Shakespeare's adaptation of Pauline style in these plays reflects, even as it extends and deepens, his career-long interest in the life, language, and ideas of the apostle. In The Comedy of Errors, for instance, he sets the action in an Ephesus rumored to be infested with supernatural forces, a reputation established by Luke in his account of Paul's visit to the city in the book of Acts; at the same time, he explores themes in the play with direct relevance to Paul's letter to the Ephesians. (7) Shakespeare also engages with Paul in A Midsummer Night's Dream, where he caps a night of wonder and metamorphosis in the Athenian wood with a ridiculous travesty of Paul's visionary description of God's love in 1 Corinthians. (8) And in Richard III, be tightens the troubling identification between the villainous, hypocritical Richard and Paul, by whom Richard habitually swears and on whom Shakespeare bases his duplicitous, shape-shifting selfhood. (9)

Critics have traced Shakespeare's interest in Paul to different aspects of Pericles and The Winter's Tale as well, from characters and settings to themes and speech acts. (10) They have not recognized, however, Shakespeare's efforts to repurpose the rhetorical forms and effects of Paul's prose for the dramatic verse of the plays. As I will show, Shakespeare engages not only with the language of Paul's texts but also with humanist discussions of Paul's style, which ground the definition of his prose in a set of formal properties, and which characterize its artistry with reference to a pair of Greco-Roman figures: Pericles, the Athenian statesman and military general; and Mercury, the Roman god of eloquence.

Shakespeare draws on this humanist discourse as he experiments with Pauline style in each play. In Pericles, he casts Pericles as the hero and protagonist of the play, and he adapts a set of speech acts and rhetorical forms from Paul's letter to the Ephesians to compose a sequence of Pericles's speeches at sea, including different species of syntactical inversion and transposition (hyperbaton); divagation and digression (anacoluthon); and verbal and phrasal omission (ellipsis). (11) Then, in The Winter's Tale, he includes Autolycus, the mythological son of Mercury, as a prominent foil to Paulina, the apostle's namesake in the play, and he expands his earlier engagement with Paul's style to develop a series of Paulina's speeches at the Sicilian court, combining hyperbaton, anacoluthon, and ellipsis with other forms and techniques from Paul's letters to the Romans, Corinthians, and Galatians. These techniques include the heaping up of words (congeries) and verbal repetitions (epanalepsis) of Paul's diatribes; his angry rhetorical questions (interrogate); and his blunt outspokenness on personally embarrassing or socially taboo topics (parrhesia). (12) In both plays, as we will see, Shakespeare's principles of dramatic decorum guide and delimit his use of Paul's style--Pericles and Paulina employ, that is, a Pauline style in response to the unique demands of their dramatic situations, and Pauline style itself conforms and contributes to the broader development of character and theme.

Pericles and the Rhetoric of Mystery

As Pericles sails near the coastlines of Ephesus and Tarsus, he delivers a trio of powerful speeches, each manifesting the distinctive tones and textures of Pauline style. In the first speech, he prays to the Olympian gods to calm a violent sea storm for the sake of his wife Thaisa, who lies in labor below deck. In the second, he speaks a benediction over his newborn daughter Marina, blessing her with a life of peace and happiness in lieu of her tumultuous birth aboard their ship. In the third, he gives a eulogy upon the apparent death of Thaisa. The speeches thus call for a style adequate to address major thresholds of human experience, the liminal points of being and reality: birth, death, and the divine. For most critics, the speeches signal a sea change in the quality of the play's verse: whereas the verse in most of the earlier speeches seems plodding and perfunctory, the verse in these speeches exhibits, according to MacDonald Jackson, the "lively imagery, expressive phrasing, and vigorous rhythms" of Shakespeare's late style. (13) But if the interplay of image, phrase, and rhythm reflects the influence of Shakespeare's late style, the interplay of form and effect reflects Shakespeare's use of Pauline prose to craft this style, specifically his use of syntactical inversions (hyperbaton), rhetorical digressions [anacoluthon), and verbal omissions (ellipses) to maximize the power, speed, passion, and profundity of the speeches.

Perhaps no Pauline epistle captures these dynamics as vividly as Ephesians, which produces the same palette of impressive effects as the other epistles, but which poses, at the same time, an exceptional degree of formal complexity. "In this Epistle of Paul," as Erasmus observes in his annotations on Ephesians, "there is the same fervor, the same depth of thought [profunditas], the same spirit and passion [pectus] throughout, but nowhere else is the language more troublesome because of hyperbata, anapodota [a spe cies of anacoluthon], and other inconveniences." (14) Consider, for instance, the dynamics of hyperbaton and speed in Ephesians 2:1-3, where Paul discusses the benefits of God's mercy towards the Ephesians. Here and throughout the essay, I quote from an English translation of the text that Shakespeare is likely to have read privately, regularly, and carefully, the (15) 95 Geneva-Tomson Bible, a version that maintains the formal features of Paul's prose as they appear in his original Greek texts.15 This formal equivalence reflects the theoretical principles of Renaissance English translators, who maintained the lexical details, syntactical arrangements, and literal phrasing of their base texts out of respect for their sanctity, even at the expense of semantic clarity or stylistic elegance. (16) Like his engagements with the rest of scripture, translation generally mediated Shakespeare's engagement with Paul's texts; but through translation Shakespeare could still discern and assess the features of Paul's style in action, including the influence of hyperbaton in the following passage.

1. And you hathe he quickened, that were dead in trespasses and sinnes,

2. Wherein, in time past ye walked, according to the course of this worlde, and after the prince that ruleth in the aire, even the spirite, that now worketh in the children of disobedience,

3. Among whome we also had our conversation in time past in the lustes of our flesh, in fulfilling the will of the flesh, and of the minde, & were by nature the children of wrath, as well as others. (17)

As he reminds the Ephesians of their former spiritual condition, Paul weaves a variety of inversions and transpositions into his sentence, quickening its pace and invigorating its rhythms. (18) Verse 1, for instance, reverses typical subject-object order, placing the direct object "you" at the head of the initial clause to arrest the attention of the audience. It also splits the past participle with the subject ("hathe he quickened"); and separates the object from its modifier ("And you ... that were dead in trespasses and sinnes"), which increases the modifier's proximity to "quickened" and sharpens, as a result, the contrast between the sentence's metaphors of death and revival. Other hyperbatonic expressions accentuate the sentence's irregular syntax, accelerate its tempo, and sustain its breathless accumulation of subordinate, relative, and appositive clauses. Verse 2, for example, positions the subject and verb after a prepositional phrase ("in time past ye walked"), which itself includes a postpositive adjective ("time past"); and verse 3 again positions a prepositional phrase ahead of the subject and verb ("among whome we also had"), which extends the sentence for another round of clauses and leads to another pair of light transpositions ("time past," "and were by nature the children of wrath"). Along with its keen sense of alacrity, the free arrangement of words and phrases fosters the agile rhythms of the sentence, particularly the oscillation between short and long clauses in verse 3, which maintains its nervous energy in spite of its awkward length.

If Paul's use of hyperbaton builds an impression of discursive speed and agility in Ephesians 2:1-3, his use of anacoluthon strengthens the sense of passion and profundity in Ephesians 2:4-7, the next sentence, which celebrates the sanctification and glorification of the Ephesians "in Christ."

4. But God which is riche in mercie, through his great love wherewith he loved us,

5. Even when we were dead by sinnes, hathe quickened us together in Christ, by whose grace ye are saved,

6. And hathe raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenlie places in Christ Iesus,

7. That hee might shewe in the ages to come the exceeding riches of his grace through his kindnesse toward us in Christ Iesus.

From his depressing description of life without Christ Paul ascends to an ecstatic vision of Christian communion in "the heavenly places," strengthening his sentence with a flurry of loosely related theological assertions. Verse 5, for instance, disrupts the upward trajectory of the main predicate with an interpolated clause ("by whose grace ye are saved"), jumping to the subject of the next sentence prematurely and shifting rapidly between first- and second-person perspectives. Verse 6, moreover, disturbs the coherence of the sentence's rhetorical climax with an unexpected leap in figurative logic (metalepsis): whereas verses 1-5 use the idea of resurrection ("quickened") as a metaphor to describe the experience of moral and spiritual renewal under Christ, verse 6 suggests that Christ has somehow already "raised" (i.e., lifted) Paul and the Ephesians into paradise and seated them together in mystical fel lowship. (19) These kinds of grammatical and logical inconsistency certainly test the reader's ability to discern the proper relations between and potential implications of Paul's ideas, but they also enable Paul to compose some of his most rhetorically bold and semantically rich sentences, which imbue the epistle, in turn, with an aura of mystery and exuberance. "[This] Epistle is full of high sentences," as John Chrysostom writes in his homilies on Ephesians, citing 2:6, "it is full of matters of very high sense, and exceding waightie." (20)

In addition to hyperbaton and anacoluthon, Paul employs different species of ellipsis to produce stylistic effects in Ephesians, particularly its sense of sublimity and profundity. In Ephesians 3:14-19, for instance, he incorporates a set of elliptical expressions into a complex prayer for and exhortation to the Ephesian community.

14. For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Iesus Christ,

15. (Of whome is named the whole family in heaven and in earth)

16. That he might graunt you according to the riches of his glory, that ye may be strengthened by his Spirit in the inner man,

17. That Christ may dwell in your heartes by faith:

18. That yee, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with al Saintes, what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height:

19. And to knowe the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye may be filled with all fulnesse of God.

As he prays for the Ephesians to mature in faith and knowledge, Paul infuses the prayer with an array of cryptic phrases, ineffable images, and clauses lacking connective particles (asyndeton), striving both to express "the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge" and to inspire a commensurate zeal in his audience. (21) With few exceptions, for instance, the clauses connect, not through coordinating conjunctions like "and" or "so," but through the vague relative pronoun "that," which creates ambiguous relations between each clause--do the clauses represent a series of more or less discreet benedictory statements, or do they build upon each other into a larger, more meaningful whole? The clauses also persistently withhold information necessary for a precise interpretation of their meaning, prompting Renaissance critics to supplement them with possible glosses. Perhaps the most contested example occurs in verses 18 and 19, where Paul prays that the Ephesians "May be able to comprehend with all Saintes, what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height"--of what, exactly? The Geneva marginalia suggest that Paul is describing "how perfite the worke of Christ is in every part," while Erasmus offers "the goodnesse of God" in a paraphrase of the passage. (22) But whatever reading Renaissance audiences preferred, the very proliferation of such glosses reflects the power of Paul's ellipses to cultivate an impression of surplus meaning, their ability, in other words, to provoke wonder and awe at the numinous contents seemingly concealed in the gaps of the epistle's sentences. "For there is none of [Paul's] Epistles," as Erasmus writes in his paraphrase, "that hath so darke and hidde sentences in it, as this to the Ephesians." (23)

Shakespeare's creative response to Paul's high and mysterious sentences emerges in the rhetorical dynamics of Pericles's major speeches during the sea storm, which adapt the key forms of Paul's prose to produce a similar constellation of effects. In his prayer for deliverance, for instance, Pericles makes frantic use of anacoluthon to heighten the force and speed of his appeal to the gods.
   The god of this great vast, rebuke these surges
   Which wash both heaven and hell, and thou that hast
   Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,
   Having called them from the deep. 0, still
   Thy deafening dreadful thunders; gently quench
   Thy nimble sulphurous flashes! [Calls]

   O how, Lychorida!
   How does my queen?--Thou stormest venomously;
   Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman's whistle
   Is as a whisper in the ears of death,
   Unheard. [Calls]

   Lychorida!--Lucina, O,
   Divinest patroness, and midwife gentle
   To those that cry by night, convey thy deity
   Aboard our dancing boat, make swift the pangs
   Of my queen's travails!--Now, Lychorida! (24)

Given its cosmic invocations ("god," "heaven and hell"), primordial imagery ("surges," "winds"), and expansive spatial dimensions ("this great vast," "from the deep"), Pericles's speech clearly manifests a broad relation to other grand styles in content. Critics have also detected biblical resonances in the speech's diction and imagery, including echoes of Psalm 104, where the seas are said to flee at the Lord's rebuke, and the Gospels, where Christ rebukes a storm on the Sea of Galilee. (25) These broad relations and resonances serve to enhance the speech's complex meanings and effects, even as the speech's formal properties reflect its specific relation to Pauline style, particularly its turbulent sequence of anacolutha. Pericles makes little effort to tighten the links between his thoughts and words as they ricochet between the gods, Thaisa's servant and midwife Lychorida, and the storm, directing and redirecting his discourse with rhetorical questions, real questions, and vocative outbursts. After an abrupt call to Lychorida in line 6, for instance, line 7 suddenly swerves to address the storm itself ("Thou stormest venomously"); line 10 then interjects another call to Lychorida, which interrupts the development of an analogy; and it pivots again with a cry to Lucina, goddess of childbirth ("The seaman's whistle / Is as a whisper in the ears of death / Unheard / Lychorida!--Lucina, O"). The successive overtures and complex directional shifts not only heighten the Pauline intensity and velocity of the speech but also conjure a frisson of numinous activity on the stage, crowding its imaginative space with powerful deities and personified figures. In addition, the audacious tone of the prayer fulfills Paul's prescriptions for prayer as a speech act: prayers should be spoken, according to Paul, with "boldness" and "confidence," a claim he makes in Ephesians 3:12 before modeling the approach in 3:14-19.

Various aspects of Pericles's dramatic environment also reflect Shakespeare's engagement with Pauline style in the speech. On the one hand, Pericles performs the prayer in view of two Mediterranean cities that Renaissance audiences strongly associated with Paul's life and writings: Tarsus (his birthplace) and Ephesus itself. On the other hand, Pericles performs the prayer in the midst of a storm full of "deafening dreadful thunders" and "nimble sulphurous flashes," which evoke Renaissance characterizations of Paul's style as 'thunder and lightning,' traditional metaphors for his discursive power and speed. These metaphors reflect, in turn, deeper cultural links between Paul and another figure named Pericles, the ancient Athenian military general, whose oratorical style was also described as thunder and lightning. (26) Saint Jerome was the first to claim that "whenever I read [Paul's letters], I seem to hear, not words, but peals of thunder [tonitrua]" and that "wherever you look, they are lightning bolts [fulmina]." (27) But as biblical humanists recognized, Jerome took these metaphors from classical accounts of the political speeches of Pericles, who "farre passed," according to Plutarch, "all the orators in his time ... For it is reported, that he thundered and lightened in his oration to the people, & that his tongue was a terrible lightning." (28) Erasmus, for instance, acknowledges Jerome's borrowing in his paraphrase of the Corinthian letters, even as it inspires him to develop parallels between Paul and Pericles in terms of character and action. "These were the weapons and these the forces," Erasmus writes, referring to faith, prayer, and preaching,
   with which Paul, that invincible warrior, conquered Greece and a
   great part of Asia Minor and proceeded to attack and take
   possession of the Roman empire ... of him it is true, as was once
   said of Pericles, if I mistake not, that with thunder and lightning
   he confounded, not Greece alone, but the whole world. (29)

After gesturing to Jerome's debt, Erasmus embeds his allusion to Paul's style, the "thunder and lightning" with which Paul "confounded" [miscet] the world, within a matrix of Pericles-inspired martial imagery, fashioning him into a kind of romance hero and his missionary journeys into imperialist military campaigns. The marginal note to the 1522 edition of Erasmus's New Testament paraphrases underscores the identity between Paul and Pericles that Erasmus seeks to establish in the passage: Paul, according to the note, is "the Pericles of our religion" (Periculum nostrae religionis).

Other biblical humanists make the stylistic basis of the connection between Paul and Pericles more explicit. The Jesuit scholar Nicolas Caussin, for instance, compares Paul to Pericles on the basis of style in his textbook on sacred and secular rhetoric: "What on Paul's part is lacking?" asks Caussin, "Who far more than Pericles, with thundering, lightning, and confounding speeches preached to the whole world?" (30) The Lutheran Victor Strigel also invokes the connection in one of his commentaries on the Psalms; referring to Paul's use of Psalm 32 in Romans 4, Strigel writes that "Paule, an Orator more rightly then Pericles, thundering and lightning in the midst of his auditorie, used the testimonie of thys Psalme in a most weighty cause." (31) Myriad other biblical humanists similarly characterize passages from Paul's letters as thunderous or lightning-like in their effects, emphasizing the power and speed of his style and reinforcing, at the same time, his cultural links with Pericles. (32)

Shakespeare exploits, then, the cultural links between Paul and Pericles as he coordinates the dramaturgical relations between Pericles's grand speech, stormy setting, and dire situation, harnessing the thunder and lightning of Paul's style to create an appropriate response to the thunder and lightning of the tempest. Other aspects of the dramatic environment shed similar light on Shakespeare's engagement with Pauline style in the next major speech of the scene, where Pericles combines different species of hyperbaton and ellipsis to bless his newborn daughter Marina.
   Now, mild may be thy life!
   For a more blusterous birth had never babe;
   Quiet and gentle thy conditions, for
   Thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world
   That ever was prince's child. Happy what follows!
   Thou hast as chiding a nativity
   As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make
   To herald thee from the womb.
   Even at the first thy loss is more than can
   Thy portage quit, with all thou canst find here.
   Now the good gods throw their best eyes upon't!

Even as he hopes for a reversal in Marina's fortunes, Pericles employs a series of syntactical reversals and verbal omissions to manage a stark shift in tone, from a forceful appeal to the gods to a compassionate paternal benediction. Lines 27 to 31, for instance, consistently position complements ahead of verbs and subjects ("Now, mild may be thy life ... Quiet and gentle thy conditions ... Happy what follows"); line 28 reverses subject-verb-object order ("blusterous birth had never babe"); and lines 29 and 31 omit substantive verbs from their main clauses. In comparing, moreover, Marina's present experiences of "loss" (of her mother in particular) with her "portage" or remaining earthly possessions (her father, life, royal status), lines 35 to 36 divide an auxiliary verb from its main verb ("can/thy partage quit"), and they obscure Pericles's points of comparison with vague diction and elusive phrasing ("the first," "thy loss," "with all thou canst find here"). If these hyperba tonic and elliptical constructions combine to reproduce the discursive speed and affective power of Pauline style, they also perform distinct rhetorical functions in their new dramatic context: to keep the storm, for instance, from drowning out his speech, Pericles arranges words to emphasize key terms, and to keep the "dancing boat" from throwing the speech off balance, he positions or eliminates words and phrases to maintain a pliant rhythm, alternating between shorter declarative and longer comparative clauses in each of the hypotactic sentences. Finally, the speech's syntactical reversals reflect the dialectical development of its ideas and imagery, which draws, in turn, on Paul's use of dialectical patterns throughout his writings, including his juxtaposition of sin/death and grace/ life in Ephesians 2:1-7. The benediction thus highlights Shakespeare's engagement with the rhetorical dimensions of Paul's style even as it provides evidence for what Kenneth Gross describes as Shakespeare's "deep fascination with the dialectical mode of Paul's writing, his oppositional imagery, his framing of opposed worlds, texts, persons, and churches." (33)

Pericles's Pauline style appears all the more prominently in contrast to speeches that other Shakespearean characters deliver under similar dramatic circumstances. Critics have noted, for instance, the resemblance between Pericles's prayer and King Lear's first speech after abandoning the houses of his treacherous daughters, where he rails against a violent storm while wandering on a barren heath. (34)
   Blow winds and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow!
   You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout
   Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks!
   You sulphurous and thought-executing fires,
   Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
   Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
   Strike flat the thick rotundity o'the world,
   Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once
   That make ungrateful man! (35)

Lear's angry cries anticipate certain aspects of Pericles's prayer, from its chaotic setting and imperative mode to its strong diction and sublime imagery. But Lear's grand style differs significantly from Pericles's Pauline style in its surprising degree of structural coherence and visual clarity: whereas Pericles's speech fractures its focus and obscures its content through anacolutha, Lear's speech addresses the stormy elements in an orderly progression of commands; it casts these commands in straightforward syntactical arrangements; and it fills them with fully developed figures. Such rhetorical stability amid the "cataracts and hurricanoes" of the heath suggests that Pericles's rhetorical instabilities derive, not merely from the tumult of his environment, but from Shakespeare's creative adaptation of Pauline prose features. Similar evidence appears in one of Lear's later heath speeches, where he prays for the marginalized subjects of his kingdom. "Nay get thee in," he begins, instructing his fool to take shelter in a nearby hovel,
   I'll pray, and then I'll sleep.
   [Kneels] Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
   That bides the pelting of this pitiless storm,
   How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
   Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you
   From seasons such as these? O, I have tae'en
   Too little care of this. Take physic, pomp,
   Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
   That thou mayst shake the superflux to them
   And show the heavens more just.

Lear combines a petitionary speech act with traditionally Christian subject matter to express a moving vision of socio-economic justice. If the speech, however, takes certain cues from Christian teachings and writings, it exhibits no relation to Pauline style--along with its lack of engagement with Pauline formal features, its tone of humility and contrition contrasts sharply with the Pauline boldness and confidence of Pericles's prayer at sea. And once again, the immediate clarity of Lear's speech underlines the need for explanations beyond setting and situation to account for the challenging, irregular features of Pericles's speeches.

Pericles's last major speech at sea substantiates Pauline style as the primary source of these challenging features, even as it culminates Shakespeare's experiments with them. After Pericles blesses his newborn daughter, two sailors enter and urge him to bury Thaisa at sea, who appears to have died in labor, and whose postmortem presence on board the sailors consider bad luck. Pericles reluctantly consents to the request, but not before combining different forms of anacoluthon, hyperbaton, and ellipsis into a poignant eulogy for his wife.
   A terrible childbed hast thou had, my dear,
   No light, no fire. Th'unfriendly elements
   Forgot thee utterly, nor have I time
   To give thee hallowed to thy grave, but straight
   Must cast thee, scarcely coffined, in the ooze,
   Where, for a monument upon thy bones
   And aye-remaining lamps, the belching whale
   And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,
   Lying with simple shells. O Lychorida,
   Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink, and paper,
   My casket and my jewels, and bid Nicander
   Bring me the satin coffer.

Though the roiling ship and panicking sailors prevent Pericles from sending Thaisa "hallowed" to her grave, a series of Pauline forms enables him to bid her a remarkably intimate farewell, including syntactical transpositions ("A terrible childbed hast thou had, my dear / No light, no fire"); dropped conjunctions ("No light, no fire") and condensed imagery ("aye-remaining lamps"); and finally, a sudden break in the direction of the discourse ("Lying with simple shells. O Lychorida"). But perhaps the clearest sign of Pauline influence is how these features prolong the steady swell of restrictive and non-restrictive clauses, which, depending on how editors punctuate the speech, stretch just one or two complete sentences across the opening eleven lines. (36) Just as Paul often fervently traverses a dense cluster of ideas, images, and emotions in the span of a single, highly-wrought sentence, so Pericles obsessively pursues the fantasy of his spouse lying "in the ooze" of the ocean floor, diving deeper and deeper into the details of her watery grave before snapping back to reality and issuing a series of commands to Lychorida. The result is a speech as rhetorically ambitious and emotionally layered as some of Paul's finest prose, by turns sensitive and aggressive, grief-stricken yet full of gravitas, visually concrete yet somehow entrancing and otherworldly. Above all, the speech exploits the elements of Pauline style to achieve the primary stylistic effect of Ephesians--feelings of mystery and awe--and it anticipates, as such, what Suzanne Gossett describes as Shakespeare's "deliberate attempt to dramatize wonder through words" in the play's later scenes of recognition and reunion. (37)

If Shakespeare's engagement with Pauline style contributes to the power and complexity of the storm scene, we might still wonder, what inspired Shakespeare to engage with Pauline style in Pericles in the first place? Responses to such a question will ultimately remain speculative, but Shakespeare's decision to experiment with Pauline style may relate to his decision to experiment with literary romance, a genre traditionally associated with Paul's life and letters. As critics have recognized, Shakespeare models Pericles's painful adventures at least partially on Paul's adventures as an itinerant missionary in the Mediterranean, which Luke represents in Acts using the generic formulae of Greek romance. (38) Luke was not, however, the only authority to link Paul to the romance tradition--Paul himself develops the connection in Ephesians, where he exhorts readers to transform themselves into Christian knights, instructing them to "Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the assaults of the devil"; this allegorical armor, according to Paul, includes "the shield of faith, wherewith ye may quench all the fyrie dartes of the wicked," as well as "the helmet of salvation, and the sworde of the Spirit, which is the worde of God" (Eph. 6:11-17). For Renaissance authors, Paul's statements crystalized a broad relationship between literary romance and Christian allegory--Edmund Spenser, to take only one example, highlights the role of Ephesians in the development of English romance in a letter to Walter Raleigh, where he presents Paul's discussion of the armor of God as key to the allegory of The Faerie Queene book one. "In the end," Spenser writes, discussing Red Cross Knight's adventures, "the lady told him, that unlesse that armour which she brought would serve him (that is, the armour of a Christian man specified by Saint Paul, vi. Ephes.), that he could not succeed in that enterprise." (39)

The associations, then, between Paul, Ephesians, and romance may have inspired Shakespeare's decision to employ a Pauline style in a romance play, the possibility of which increases in light of the play's strong Pauline themes. Shakespeare develops one of these Pauline themes in close relation to his engagement with Pauline style: the problems and possibilities of practicing patience in the midst of trials, suffering, and loss. The theme itself emerges early in the play, when Pericles's closest advisor, Helicanus, counsels the prince to practice patience under the threat of siege and ruin from a foreign king: "[B]ear with patience," Helicanus advises an anxious Pericles, "Such griefs as you do lay upon yourself." (1.2.63-64). (40) The theme returns during the storm scene, when Lychorida urges Pericles to maintain fortitude in the face of his wife's apparent death, presenting his daughter to him as a source of consolation and new responsibility: "Patience, good sir," Lychorida admonishes in response to Pericles's anguished cries, "For the sake of [your daughter] / Be manly, and take comfort." (3.1.19-22) She repeats the charge a few lines later, when Pericles hesitates to accept the child, choosing instead to challenge the gods with the injustice of his own suffering.
   PERICLES O you gods!
   Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,
   And snatch them straight away? We here below
   Recall not what we give, and therein may
   Use honour with you.
   LYCHORIDA " Patience, good sir,
   Even for this charge.

Pericles's loss of faith in the goodness of the gods coincides and interacts with his struggle to find meaning and purpose in the traumatic vagaries of his life, a spiritual crisis that seriously endangers his willingness to receive his daughter. If the gods, after all, gave Thaisa as a gift to Pericles only to cruelly "snatch" her away, might they not intend to snatch away his daughter too? From Pericles's despairing point of view, Marina's birth looks less like a blessing and more like a curse, another torture instrument the gods will eventually use to inflict pointless misery on him.

Lychorida's answer to this despair represents, in effect, a crucial rereading of Marina--the child is a "goodly gift" to Pericles, not a curse--even as her references to "Patience" recall Paul's attempts to describe the divine purposes behind human suffering. One of Paul's strongest formulations on the positive value of suffering occurs in Romans, where he integrates "patience" into a process of spiritual transformation leading from suffering to hope: the church should "rejoice in tribulations," according to Paul, "knowing that tribulation bringeth forthe patience, and patience experience, and experience hope, and hope maketh not ashamed" (Rom. 5:3-5). Paul also affirms the value of suffering to the Ephesians, particularly when he encourages the church to "faint not at my tribulations for your sakes, which is your glorie" (Eph. 3:13). For Renaissance readers, Paul's reflections on and practice of patient suffering cast him as a "patern of patience," teaching them how to recognize hardship and loss as opportunities for Christian growth, and how to sustain a sense of God's nearness and goodness in the midst of adverse circumstances. (41)

By consistently invoking patience in relation to Pericles's experiences of stress and death, Shakespeare fashions his hero into a Pauline exemplar of the virtue, inviting his audiences to reflect on a range of delicate issues using Pericles as a point of reference, issues like the difficulty of choosing patience and faith over anger and despair; God's disturbing silences in the face of human tragedy; and the possibility of finding comfort in the present and hope for the future. That Pericles fails to perfectly embody patience himself hardly disqualifies him as an exemplar of the virtue. Indeed, his impulsiveness and quick temper, his lapses into apathy and doubt, his need for others to deal patiently with him and to inspire a patient spirit in him make him all the more compelling as a case study, and they cast his moments of achievement in the discipline into much sharper relief, including his decision to embrace his daughter and bless her by the " best eyes" of the "good gods." (42) Ironically, the same qualities also draw Pericles closer to his apostolic model--Paul himself, as we will see in the next section, was not always the ideal pattern of patience that his Renaissance readers preferred to imagine.

Paulina and the Rhetoric of Rebuke

In addition to the prayer-benediction-eulogy sequence in Pericles, Shakespeare engages with Pauline style to fashion an important speech act in The Winter's Tale, the rebuke. Paulina, as critics have recognized, recalls her apostolic namesake as much in her fierce chastisements of Leontes in the early sections of the play as in her appeals to faith and redemption in the later sections. It is "precisely her intemperate diatribes," according to Huston Diehl, "and the discomfort they arouse in both the on-stage and theatrical audiences that link Paulina most closely ... to Paul," especially to Reformation conceptions of Paul as an incisive moral critic. (43) Diehl demonstrates how Reformers like Luther and Calvin sought to justify Paul's belligerent uses of the rebuke, and she also notes how Paulina vocalizes their metaphors to justify her rebukes of Leontes, particularly the metaphor of a physician applying painful but necessary remedies to restore a patient to health. Diehl does not, however, explore how Paulina's speeches adapt from Paul's letters, not just the rebuke itself, but also the formal techniques that Paul uses to strengthen his rebukes, techniques like the heaping up of words (congeries) and verbal repetitions (epanalepsis) of his diatribes; his angry rhetorical questions (interrogatio); and his blunt outspokenness on personally embarrassing or socially taboo topics (parrhesia).

Paul puts interrogatio and parrhesia into particularly severe practice in 1 Corinthians, where he both condemns a member of the Corinthian church for committing incest and rebukes the rest of the church for tolerating the sin. "Shal I come unto you with a rod?" Paul asks before raising the issue of incest directly, "It is heard certeinly that there is fornication among you: and such fornication as is not once named among the Gentiles, that one should have his fathers wife" (1 Cor. 4:21-5:1). After admonishing the Corinthian church for their collective failure, Paul delivers a rhetorically tangled and emotionally fraught condemnation of the incestuous man.

3. For I verily as absent in bodie, but present in spirite, have determined alreadie as though I were present, that he that hath thus done this thing,

4. When ye are gathered together, and my spirite, in the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that such one, I say, by the power of our Lord Jesus Christ,

5. Be delivered unto Satan, for the destruction of the flesh ...

The condemnation's strength partially consists in the court of spirits Paul convenes to pronounce it, including his own spirit; Christ, who authorizes his verdict; and Satan, who carries out the punishment, "the destruction of the flesh." Equally as integral, however, to the strength of the condemnation is the circuitous development of the sentence: Paul employs a litany of qualifying phrases and clauses, not only to deepen the impression of his moral outrage and disgust, but also to heighten the climactic expression of condemnation, coiling the sentence with delays and deferrals in verses 3 and 4 before unleashing its sting in verse 5. (44)

Closely related to Paul's rebukes are his bitter diatribes, which employ a variety of formal techniques to produce their force and feeling. In Romans 1:28-30, for instance, he combines congeries and asyndeton to compose a lengthy diatribe against Gentile unbelievers.

28. For as they regarded not to acknowledge God, even so God delivered them up unto a reprobate minde, to doe those things which are not convenient,

29. Being full of all unrighteousnesse, fornication, wickednesse, coveteousnesse, maliciousnesse, full of envie, of murther, of debate, of diceite, taking all things in the evil parte, whisperers,

30. Backebiters, haters of God, doers of wrong, proude, boasters, inventers of evil things, disobedient to parents, without understanding, covenant breakers, without natural affection, such as can never be appeased, mercilesse.

As he critiques the lifestyle of the pagans at Rome, Paul heaps up a mountain of derisive names and destructive qualities (congeries) against them to shock his readers with the moral implications of godless living. The diatribe develops, moreover, without the use of conjunctions or connectives (asyndeton), which "adds wonderfully," as Erasmus observes, "to the speed and vehemence of the oration." (45) In another diatribe, Romans 3:9-12, Paul employs a forceful sequence of repetitions (epanalepsis) to stress the subjugation of Jews and Gentiles alike "under sinne."

9. What then? are we more excellent? No, in no wise: for we have already proved, that all, both Jewes and Gentiles are under sinne.

10. As it is written, There is none righteous, no not one.

11. There is none that understandeth: there is none that seeketh God.

12. They have all gone out of the way ... there is none that doeth good, no not one.

Lest the Gentiles of the Roman church suspect an assumption of ethnic superiority in his critique of paganism, Paul returns to a doctrinal point "already proved," which he frames as an answer to the objections of an imaginary interlocutor. After affirming God's indifference to Jew-Gentile distinctions, he hammers home the universal scope of human sinfulness with a torrent of no's, none's, and no not one's.

For biblical humanists, Paul's rebukes are trickiest to defend in his letter to the Galatians, where the tone is unusually punitive and the content transparently insulting. To justify these harsh qualities, humanists appeal, not only to the painful but necessary process of all moral correction, but also to the special challenge of correcting the Galatians, whose proverbial dullness demanded a ham-fisted approach. Erasmus, for instance, explains the disproportionate amount of time the letter spends castigating versus instructing with reference to Paul's foolish audience: Paul "more vehemently and sharpely reproveth [in Galatians], then in other of his Epistles," writes Erasmus in his paraphrase ,"to the intent that such, as could not with reason be brought to a better mynde, might yet with authoritie be called home and amended." (46) Probably the sharpest passage occurs in Galatians 3:1-3, where Paul reprimands their lapse into the "workes of the Law" with a series of mocking rhetorical questions.

1. O Foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you, that ye shulde not obey the trueth, to whom Jesus Christ before was described in your sight, and among you crucified?

2. This onely would I learne of you, Received ye the Spirit by the workes of the Law, or by the hearing of faith preached?

3. Are ye so foolish, that after ye have begun in the Spirit, ye would now be made perfect by the flesh?

4. Have yee suffered so many things in vaine?

If Paul's allusion to the sufferings of the Galatians reflects his respect for their history of faith and perseverance, his insults ("Foolish") and sarcasm ("This onely wolde I learne of you") reflect his incredulity and scorn for their present inconstancy. The elliptical aspects of the questions, moreover, reflect Paul's tendency to passionately rebuke rather than patiently instruct in the letter. What does he mean, for instance, when he claims that Jesus Christ was "crucified" among the Galatians? What do phrases like "begun in the Spirit" and "made perfect by the flesh" mean, and how do they oppose each other? The ambiguities represent the cost of Paul's rhetorical techniques, which tend to generate a great deal of charisma and emotion, though typically at the expense of logical clarity. (47)

The same rhetorical techniques inform Paulina's approach to Leontes, whose irrational suspicion of his wife's fidelity compels Paulina to confront the king, not with tightly structured and coherently reasoned arguments, but with an improvisational battery of insults, curses, and threats. Paulina's use of Pauline tactics emerges in one of her earliest exchanges with Leontes at court, where she combines parrhesia and epanalepsis with anacoluthon and hyperbaton while presenting herself as an advocate for Hermione.
   Good my liege, I come--
   And I beseech you hear me, who professes
   Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
   Your most obedient counselor, yet that dares
   Less appear so in comforting your evils
   Than such as most seem yours--I say I come
   From your good Queen.
   (2.3.52-58) (48)

Before making her purpose at court explicit, Paulina suddenly breaks off mid-sentence and inserts an appeal for Leontes's full attention, including a three-fold characterization of herself as his servant, plus a vague, periphrastic comparison of herself to the other counselors. The interjection serves to establish Paulina's credibility as a counselor, to set a tone of urgency and seriousness, and most importantly, to smooth the introduction of an extremely delicate subject. At the mention of Hermione, however, Leontes cuts Paulina off, scoffing at the epithet "good Queen," which drives Paulina, in turn, into a full-frontal verbal assault:
   LEONTES Good Queen!
   Good Queen, my lord, good queen, I say good Queen,
   And would by combat make her good, so were I
   A man the worst about you!

The explosive repetition of "Good Queen" (epanalepsis) enacts, in effect, a rhetorical version of the physical violence Paulina threatens here and elsewhere in the scene: Paulina seizes her description of Hermione back from Leontes and bludgeons him with it, marring her syntax in the process with a pair of light transpositions ("by combat make her good", "so were I a man") and a hanging modifier ("the worst about you"). In addition to empowering and impassioning her speech, the use of Pauline style serves to alter and exploit the prejudicial gender dynamics of her dramatic situation: on the one hand, she ventriloquizes what Randall Martin describes as Paul's "privileged apostolic language," a language typically coded as masculine and reserved exclusively for male authority figures, in order to preempt misogynist dismissals of her rebukes as the frivolous scolds of an old busy-body. (49) On the other hand, she leverages the misogynist assumptions of her courtly audience to motivate defenses of Hermione's honor, blending Paul's masculine apostolic voice with the combative language of chivalry and knighthood to emasculate the other counselors and present herself as the sole defender of a maiden in distress.

If Pauline style fuels the ferocity of Paulina's attacks on Leontes, it also inspires pity in other members of the courtly audience. In the same scene, for instance, Paulina adapts the rhetorical features of Paul's diatribes, particularly congeries and asyndeton, to develop an ekphrastic description of the newborn princess, whom Leontes has proclaimed illegitimate and sentenced to death. The child "is yours," insists Paulina,
   And might we lay th'old proverb to your charge,
   So like you, 'tis the worse. Behold, my lords,
   Although the print be little, the whole matter
   And copy of the father--eye, nose, lip,
   The trick of's frown, his forehead, nay, the valley,
   The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek, his smiles,
   The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger.

To protect the princess from Leontes's wrath, Paulina rapidly catalogues her physical features for the other Sicilian lords, highlighting her resemblance to the king and arousing sympathy for her weakness and helplessness. The Pauline pace and pathos of the speech derive largely from the lack of conjunctions in the ekphrasis, which creates a vivid impression of Paulina's mind at work, of her thoughts outstripping her words. In balancing, moreover, her rebukes of Leontes with appeals for the princess, Paulina suggests the indebtedness of her speech to the softer, more maternal dimensions of Pauline style, tempering her dependence on its punitive, paternal dimensions. Paul himself displays the maternal dimensions of his style in Galatians, where he complements his rebukes with intimate expressions of concern for "My litle children," as he refers to the Galatians, "of whome I travaile in birth againe, until Christ be formed in you" (Gal. 4:19). (50) For Renaissance critics, Paul's readiness to dress himself in maternal imagery and speak in highly emotional tones of voice underwrites the loving intentions behind his rebukes, and it contributes, at the same time, to the strength and variety of his style. (51) The same readiness inspires Shakespeare's maternalization of Paul with the character of Paulina, even as Paul's rhetorical shifts between apostolic severity and pastoral care inform Paulina's shifts between sharp reproofs and sympathetic appeals.

As with Pericles's speeches at sea, the Pauline character of Paulina's speeches at court emerges with sharper clarity in contrast to the styles of other Shakespearean rebukes. In The Comedy of Errors, for instance, Shakespeare composes a rebuke for another strong, religiously inflected female character, the Abbess Emilia, whom critics sometimes adduce as a prototype for Paulina. (52) Towards the end of the play, Emilia questions one of the heroines, Adriana, about her relationship with her husband Antipholus, seeking the source of Antipholus's apparent madness. When Adriana reveals how she has badgered Antipholus with suspicions of infidelity, Emilia reproaches her for jealousy.
   And thereof came it that the man was mad.
   The venom clamours of a jealous woman
   Poisons more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.
   It seems his sleeps were hindered by thy railing,
   And thereof comes it that his head is light.
   Thou sayst his meat was sauced with thy upbraidings:
   Unquiet meals make ill digestions.
   (5.1.68-74) (53)

And so on. After several more lines of point-by-point analysis the Abbess brings her argument to a sensible conclusion, the proverbial wisdom of which she flaunts with a neat pair of couplets.
   In food, in sport, and life-preserving rest
   To be disturbed would mad or man or beast.
   The consequence is, then, thy jealous fits
   Hath scared thy husband from the use of wits.

The formal symmetries of the speech contribute significantly to its persuasive force. In reprimanding Adriana as the cause of her husband's madness, Emilia deploys a series of discreet claims, each supported with clear evidence, seasoned with a simple metaphor, and expressed in stable iambic pentameter; she develops and completes ideas at regular intervals; and she defines, finally, the logical relations between her ideas ("And thereof comes it," "The consequence is, then," etc.). If, however, Emilia's cogent use of deductive reasoning strengthens her indictment of Adriana's jealousy, it also distances the indictment from Paulina's emotionally driven Pauline rebukes. The stylistic difference stems as much from the demands of their audiences as from differences in temperament and character; whereas Leontes refuses to hear, let alone rationally consider, any evidence that contradicts his belief in Hermione's infidelity, Adriana is capable of responding to rational argumentation, rendering the use of Pauline rebukes unnecessary, if not counterproductive.

Paulina's need for and practice of Pauline rebukes appears most clearly as part of the conclusion to the play's tragic half. After forcing Hermione to stand trial for adultery, Leontes orders an oracle from Apollo to be read aloud in court, expecting it to substantiate his claims. But when the oracle actually exonerates Hermione, Leontes flatly denies its authority, triggering, in turn, a series of tragedies that culminates in Hermione's apparent death. Hermione herself is hurried offstage after Leontes's denial, leaving Paulina to report her death to the court, but not before she combines parrhesia, interrogatio, and congeries with asyndeton and anacoluthon into a brutal condemnation of Leontes:
   What studied torments, tyrant, hast for me?
   What wheels, racks, fires? What flaying, boiling?
   In leads or oils? What old or newer torture
   Must I receive, whose every word deserves
   To taste of thy most worst? Thy tyranny,
   Together working with thy jealousies--
   Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle
   For girls of nine--O think what they have done,
   And then run mad indeed, stark mad; for all
   Thy bygone fooleries were but the spices of it.

The force of Paulina's rebuke derives in part from her repeated accusation of "tyranny," an accusation she refrains from making in her earlier exchanges with Leontes (cf. 2.3.115-19). But her charges of tyranny, jealousy, and foolishness acquire most of their Pauline bitterness and violence from the provocative rhetorical questions preceding them, which Paulina uses to acknowledge and embrace the dire consequences of leveling such openly hostile remarks at a monarch ("whose every word deserves / To taste of thy most worst"). A tissue of torture scenes fills the questions themselves with horror and dread ("wheels, racks, fires," "flaying, boiling"), even as the digressive description of his jealousy laces the accusations with sardonic humor ("Fancies too weak for boys, too green and idle / For girls of nine").

How should we understand Shakespeare's decision to engage with Paul's style in The Winter's Tale? Compared to Pericles, Shakespeare makes far less use of traditional romance conventions in The Winter's Tale, weakening Paul's associations with romance as a source of inspiration for his use of Pauline style in the latter play. Shakespeare may have drawn inspiration, however, from Paul's similar (if less familiar) associations with The Winter's Tale's more obvious generic rubric, tragicomedy. (54) Paul's associations with tragicomedy derive from his identification with Mercury, the Roman god of eloquence, interpretation, trickery, and travel, whom Renaissance critics saw as the spokesperson for tragicomedy, beginning with his role as the conniving protagonist in Plautus's tragicomedy Amphitruo. "I will set out the plot of this tragedy," Mercury announces in the prologue to the play:
   What? Did you pull a face, because I said it was going to be a
   tragedy? I am a god so I'll change it, if you want. I will make a

   comedy out of this tragedy ... I'll make it mixed: a tragicomedy.

Similar to the associations between Orpheus and lyric poetry, Mercury's facetious invention of "tragicomoedia," the only recorded use of the term in the classical tradition, established an association between the god and the genre for Renaissance literary theorists, who debated his comments as authoritative grounds for the development of tragicomedy as a legitimate dramatic form. (56) At the same time, biblical humanists drew broad parallels between the tragicomic plot of Amphitruo, a raucous farce in which Zeus and Mercury disguise themselves as humans to seduce the wife of a Theban military general, and a zany episode from the book of Acts, "the sacrifice at Lystra," a story in which citizens of the Mediterranean city of Lystra mistake Paul and his fellow apostle Barnabas for Mercury and Zeus. The biblical story, which features as much wonder, confusion, and slapstick as anything in Plautus, warrants a brief summary. While preaching to a crowd of Lystrans, Paul notices, according to Luke, a man "impotent in his feete ... a creeple from his mothers wombe," to whom he successfully commands, "Stand upright on thy feete" (Acts 14:8-10). So amazed are the Lystrans, not only with Paul's miraculous powers of healing, but also with his eloquent powers of speech, that they come to believe Paul and Barnabas are really pagan deities in human disguise: "Then when the people saw what Paul had done," writes Luke, "they lift [sic] up their voyces, saying ... Gods are come downe to us in the likenesse of men. And they called Barnabas, Jupiter, and Paul, Mercurius, because hee was the chiefe speaker" (Acts 14:11-12 my emphasis). Things go from bad to worse when the Lystrans report Paul's miracle to the priest of Jupiter, who quickly prepares a sacrifice of "bulles with garlands" to honor the apostles. Once Paul and Barnabas learn of the sacrifice, however, they rush to prevent it in a dramatic display of humility and zeal. "But when the Apostles ... heard it," writes Luke,
   they rent their clothes, and ran in among the people, crying, And
   saying, O men, why do ye these things? We are even men subject to
   the like passions that ye bee ... turne from these vaine things,
   unto the living God. (Acts 14:14-15)

From here the narrative gives over to a sermon on "the living God," which is "scarce" able to keep the Lystrans from sacrificing to Paul and Barnabas. But relent the Lystrans eventually do, to the apostles' relief--at which point, to their dismay, "certaine Iewes" from a group of neighboring cities appear and convince the Lystrans that Paul is, in fact, a religious charlatan, whereupon the Lystrans stone Paul in a mob rage and toss his lifeless body outside the city! As a last twist to an outrageous scene, Paul, now presumed dead even by his followers mourning nearby, suddenly stands to his feet and marches back into the city, "confirming," as Luke tells it, "the disciples heartes, & exhorting them to continue in the faith, affirming that wee must through many afflictions entre into the kingdome of God" (Acts 14:22). For biblical humanists, Paul's tragicomic experiences in Lystra prompted reflection on a variety of moral and spiritual themes, from the dangers of idolatry to the inevitability of suffering for the Gospel. But they could hardly miss the story's entertaining, Plautine spirit: "The Apostles before had a taske," preached the Oxford clergyman Edward Chaloner, comparing the story directly to Plautus's tragicomedy, "to teach the Gentiles that Iupiter was nothing, and Mercurie nothing, and now as if Amphitruo were to be re-acted, they must beginne a new with them, and hardly make good that Paul is Paul, and not Mercurie, that Barnabas is Barnabas, and not Iupiter." (57)

It is possible, then, that Shakespeare's engagement with Pauline style in The Winter's Tale reflects a creative response to the cultural associations between Paul, Mercury, and tragicomedy. The possibility strengthens in view of the biblical episode's role in Renaissance discussions of Pauline style: for many humanists, the confusion between Paul and Mercury provided proof of Paul's eloquence, his ability to captivate and impress his early audiences. In his commentary on Romans, for instance, Peter Martyr Vermigli observes that Paul was "of the men of [Lystra] taken for Mercury, by reason of his eloquence of speach." (58) Andrew Willet makes the same observation: "Chrysostome saith ... his tongue or speach was brighter then the Sunne," writes Willet, "whereupon he was of the Infidels called Mercurie, because the office of speaking was committed to him." (59) Like his patristic ties to Pericles, Paul's biblical ties to Mercury buttressed his reputation as an eloquent stylist in Renaissance literary culture, though somewhat ironically, they also served to link the apostle to his pagan counterpart in the minds of Christian audiences, perpetuating Paul's reputation as "a Christian Mercury" in the Renaissance cultural imaginary. (60)

If the associations between Paul, Mercury, and tragicomedy help illuminate Shakespeare's decision to engage with Pauline style in The Winter's Tale, they also help illuminate Shakespeare's decision to include as characters both Paulina and Autolycus, the mythological son of Mercury, neither of whom appears in Shakespeare's primary narrative source, Pandosto. (61) As critics have recognized, Shakespeare presents the roguish, ballad-peddling trickster Autolycus as an important foil to Paulina, who convinces Leontes of her miraculous ability to resurrect Hermione and restore their marriage as part of the play's comic finale. Autolycus's "ballads serve," observes Stephen Orgel,
   as indices to the nature of and capacity for belief.... They are
   also prototypes of Paulina's equally unlikely but pre-eminently
   artistic charade at the play's conclusion, for which she requires
   that 'You do awake your faith,' [requiring] what in any other
   context would be called gullibility. (62)

In using Autolycus's cons to shape and complicate responses to Paulina's healing art, Shakespeare plugs The Winter's Tale into a network of themes that connects it with the relationship between Paul and Mercury in 'the sacrifice at Lystra'--both the play and the biblical story use their character foils to foreground the tensions and tradeoffs between faith and skepticism; between the risks of wonder and the safeties of irony; between knowing for yourself and trusting others. (63) The stories resolve, however, these tensions in very different ways: whereas the Lystrans repeatedly turn to different authorities (Jupiter's priest, Paul, "certain Iewes") to make sense of the cripple's miraculous recovery, an inconstancy that ultimately devolves into violence, Leontes and his court submit their chapel experience entirely to Paulina, trusting not only in her ability to bring Hermione back from the dead but also in her authority to interpret the resurrection as "lawful" business, as opposed to charlatanism or witchcraft. (64)

More than her appeals to "grace," "faith," and "redemption" in the chapel, it is Paulina's dual role as the play's wonder-worker and master-interpreter that suggests her direct relationship to Renaissance conceptions of Paul. Lancelot Andrewes, for one, makes Paul's reputation as master-interpreter clear in a 1607 Easter sermon, a sermon that resonates with the ending of The Winter's Tale. Andrewes's text is 1 Corinthians 15:20-58, where Paul confronts certain members of the Corinthian church with their lack of faith in Christ's resurrection: "Now if it be preached," Paul writes in apparent exasperation, "that Christ is risen from the dead, how say some of you, that there is no resurrection of the dead?" (1 Cor. 15:12). After affirming the historical truth of Christ's bodily resurrection, Paul turns to an explanation of how Christ's resurrection actually prefigures the future resurrection of all Christian believers, like "the first fruits" of a larger harvest (1 Cor. 15:20). For Andrewes, Paul's affirmation of the resurrection is relatively uninteresting, since it merely rehearses a truth that the Angel first spoke outside of Christ's empty tomb: "[Paul's] words, 'Christ is risen,' were first uttered by an Angel," Andrewes observes, "all the Evangelists so testify." (65) But Paul's interpretation of the resurrection is indispensible, making sense of the Easter-event and providing Christians with a source of hope for their own salvation and future resurrection: " 'Christ is risen,' " writes Andrewes, "is a good text, but reacheth not us, unless it be helped with the Apostle's exposition. ... The exposition is it that giveth us our hope, and the ground of our hope. 'Christ is risen,' saith the Angel. 'Christ the first fruits,' saith the Apostle." Christ, in other words, did indeed come back to life, but the miracle only matters to Christians because Paul explained its profound implications to the Corinthians. Such an attitude reflects wider Renaissance perceptions of Paul as Christianity's foremost critic, or as Erasmus calls him, "the supreme interpreter of our religion." (66)

If Shakespeare draws on Paul's reputation as master expositor to craft Paulina's role as counselor and critic of the Sicilian court, he also draws on Paul's reputation as God's wonder-worker, a reputation innumerable Renaissance authors celebrate in their biblical commentaries and sermons. Like patristic uses, Renaissances uses of the term "wonder" and its variants to describe Paul derive from a variety of biblical texts, including 2 Corinthians, where Paul claims that he wrought the "signes of an Apostle" among the Corinthians "with all patience, with signes, and wonders, and great workes" (2 Cor. 12:12). To discern, however, the associations between Paul and wonder and determine their relevance to The Winter's Tale, we need look no farther than "Paul," the name itself, which translates as "wonderful" in Hebrew. According to Jerome's commentary on Philemon,
   Paul in Hebrew expresses 'wonderful.' In fact, it is wonderful that
   after being Saul--which is translated 'asked for,' because he had
   been asked by the devil to harass the church--he changed from being
   a persecutor to being a vessel of election. (67)

The significance of Paul's name was not lost on Shakespeare as he developed the character of Paulina, who not only works wonders herself but also provokes cries of wonder from others during the comic denouement. "Such a deal of wonder is broken out," claims a gentleman present at the reunion of Leontes and his daughter Perdita, "that ballad makers cannot be able to express it " (5.2.23-25; cf. 5.2.16 and 164). That the gentleman is not describing reactions to Paulina's primary work of wonder, the resurrection of Hermione, hardly weakens her connection to them. Paulina, after all, is as instrumental to the recovery of the princess as she is to the recovery of the queen, since the court relies on her authoritative interpretation of Perdita's tokens to establish her identity. "This avouches the shepherd's son," claims another witness to Perdita's recovery, reporting how a pair of Bohemian shepherds had rescued and adopted the newfound princess sixteen years earlier, "who has not only his innocence ... to justify him, but a handkerchief and rings of his that Paulina knows" (5.2.62-65 my emphasis). Paulina's initial recognition of Perdita's tokens anticipates her final reading of Perdita herself for the resurrected Hermione--"Turn, good lady/ Our Perdita is found" (5.3.120-21)--even as it initiates the play's movement towards an improbable, tragicomic conclusion, with its attending experiences of wonder and joy. (68) Shakespeare creates those experiences through his own recognition of and engagement with Paul's ability to make wonder-wounded watchers and hearers out of audiences, by virtue of his miracles, his interpretations, and his style.

Conclusion: Shakespeare's Late Styles

In a recent assessment of the emergence and development of Shakespeare's "late style," Bart van Es explores the "modish and intellectually sociable" qualities that define Shakespeare's dramatic work after 1607. Contrary to conventional accounts of Shakespeare's late style as "distant," "dreamy," and excessively "selfreflexive," van Es focuses on Shakespeare's enthusiastic participation in the evolving values and trends of Jacobean England's literary and theatrical cultures. Shakespeare's "late plays," van Es observes, "are alive with the presence of other writers.... Not only did the playwright frequently collaborate with other writers, he can also be seen to imitate them much more closely than" in earlier phases of his career. One aspect of Shakespeare's late style that reflects his investment in the literary community is his tendency to invoke or incorporate canonical authors in the plays, what van Es describes as his "persistent representation of author figures, ranging from Go wer as on-stage narrator in Pericles to the apostrophe to Chaucer in the prologue to The Two Noble Kinsmen." (69)

Alongside Gower and Chaucer we should, I think, acknowledge Paul's place within the company of canonical and contemporary authors that inspires and informs the complex development of Shakespeare's late style. Recognizing the Pauline precedents of Shakespeare's verse in Pericles and The Winter's Tale contributes to the larger critical project of accounting more carefully for Shakespeare's stylistic practices across his late work, especially as they relate to his use of language. For as long as the language of Shakespeare's late plays is considered "unlike anything he (or anybody else) had composed before," criticism will continue to mystify its origins, ascribing its development to the transcendent genius of Shakespeare's singular imagination. (70) Gordon McMullan has highlighted this tendency: "The history of Shakespearean criticism," observes McMullan, "foregrounds the attribution to late style of the status of a kind of apotheosis, an almost mystical seal attached to the life of a genius." (71) McMullan explores how Shakespeare's biography, specifically his proximity to death, tends to promote a quasi-sacred conception of his late style as the sublime product of old age. But whether as cause or effect, an integral feature of this "discourse of lateness" is the hesitation to explore influences on or precursors to Shakespeare's late style, which could dispel its aura of timelessness, power, authority, and genius. The irony, of course, is that one of Shakespeare's models, Saint Paul, enjoyed a similar kind of critical reverence among intellectual elites across Renaissance Europe.


My thanks to the many colleagues and mentors who provided generous support and feedback on early versions of this essay, particularly Hannibal Hamlin, Richard Dutton, Alan Farmer, and James Siemon.

(1.) Brian Vickers, "Approaching Shakespeare's Late Style," Early Modern Literary Studies 13, no. 3 (2008), 2.

(2.) For Ovid, see Jonathan Bate, Shakespeare and Ovid (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993). For Seneca, Robert Miola, Shakespeare and Classical Tragedy: The Influence of Seneca (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992). For Marlowe and Fletcher, Bart van Es, Shakespeare in Company (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 21-36 and 263-77.

(3.) Jessica Wolfe, "Classics," in The Oxford Handbook of Shakespeare ed. Arthur Kinney (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 523. Cf. Robert Miola, Shakespeare's Reading (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 154.

(4.) The bibliography on Shakespeare's interactions with the Bible is vast. Modern scholarship begins with Naseeb Shaheen's three-volume catalogue of biblical references in Shakespeare's plays: Biblical References in Shakespeare's Comedies (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1993), Biblical References in Shakespeare's Histories (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1989), and Biblical References in Shakespeare's Tragedies (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1987). Hannibal Hamlin helpfully surveys pre-Shaheen scholarship in his critical study of Shakespeare's biblical allusions. See The Bible in Shakespeare (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 43-77. Other post-Shaheen studies include Early Modern Drama and the Bible: Contexts and Readings, 1570-1625 ed. Adrian Streete (New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2012); Shakespeare, The Bible, and the Form of the Book: Contested Scriptures ed. Travis DeCook and Alan Galey (New York: Routledge, 2012); Steven Marx, Shakespeare and the Bible (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000); Piero Boitani, The Gospel According to Shakespeare, trans. Vittorio Montemaggi and Rachel Jacoff (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2013); Randall Martin, "Shakespearean Biography, Biblical Allusion and Early Modern Practices of Reading Scripture," Shakespeare Survey 63 (2010): 212-24; and Julie Maxwell, "How the Renaissance (Mis)Used Sources: the Art of Misquotation" in How to Do Things With Shakespeare, ed. Laurie Maguire (Oxford: Blackwell, 2008), 56.

(5.) Helen Wilcox, "Measuring Up to Nebuchadnezzar: Biblical Presences in Shakespeare's Tragicomedies" in Early Modern Drama and the Bible, ed. Adrian Streete, 59-63.

(6.) Patricia Parker explores how Shakespeare employs a similar kind of synthetic biblical style in The Comedy Errors. See Shakespeare from the Margins: Language, Culture, Context (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996), 56-82.

(7.) For Paul as a source for the play, see Arthur Kinney, "Shakespeare's Comedy of Errors and the Nature of Kinds," Studies in Philology 85, no. 1 (1988): 29-52. Cf. The Comedy of Errors, ed. Charles Whitworth (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 37-42.

(8.) A Midsummer Night's Dream, ed. Peter Holland (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994), 4.1.207-10.

(9.) Geoffrey Carnall, "Shakespeare's Richard III and St. Paul," Shakespeare Quarterly 14, no. 2 (1963): 186-88.

(10.) Studies of Pauline material in Pericles include Martin, "Shakespearean Biography," esp. 220-24; Richard Finkelstein, "Pericles, Paul, and Protestantism," Comparative Drama 44, no. 2 (2010): 101-29; and Maurice Hunt, "Shakespeare's Pericles and the Acts of the Apostles," Christianity and Literature 49, no. 3 (2000): 295-309. Studies of Pauline material in The Winter's Tale include Roy Battenhouse, "Theme and Structure in The Winter's Tale," Shakespeare Survey 33 (1980): 123-38; Huston Diehl, " 'Does not the stone rebuke me?': The Pauline Rebuke and Paulina's Lawful Magic in The Winter's Tale" in Shakespeare and the Cultures of Performance, ed. Paul Yachnin and Patricia Badir (Burlington: Ashgate, 2008), 69-82; Randall Martin, "Paulina, Corinthian Women, and the Revisioning of Pauline and Early Modern Patriarchal Ideology in The Winter's Tale" in Shakespeare, the Bible, and the Form of the Book, ed. Travis DeCook and Alan Galey, 57-77; James Kuzner, "The Winter's Tale: Faith in Law and the Law of Faith," Exemplaria 24, no. 3 (2012): 260-81; and Ken Jackson, " 'Grace to boot': St. Paul, Messianic Time, and Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale" in The Return of Theory in Early Modern English Studies: Tarrying with the Subjunctive, ed. Paul Cefalu and Bryan Reynolds (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 192-209.

(11.) For hyperbaton, see Quintilian, The Orator's Education, Volume V: Books 11-12, ed. and trans. Donald A. Russell (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2002), 8.2.14 (334-35) and 8.6.62-8.6.67 (461-65). Cf. George Puttenham, The Art of English Poesy: A Critical Edition, ed. Frank Whigham and Wayne A. Rebhorn (New York: Cornell University Press, 2007), 252. For anacoluthon, see Herbert Weir Smyth, A Greek Grammar for Colleges, rev. Gordon M. Messing (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1980), 3004. For ellipsis or "eclipsis," see Johannes Susenbrotus, Epitome troporum ac schematum (Zurich, 1540), 25. Cf. Puttenham The Art, 247.

(12.) For congeries see Quintilian, The Orator's Education, 8.4.26-27 (404-5). Cf. Puttenham, Art, 321. For epanalepsis, see Susenbrotus, Epitome troporum, 30. Cf. Puttenham, The Art, 284-85. For interrogatio, see Quintilian, The Orator's Education, 9.2,6 (36-37). Cf. Desiderius Erasmus, Ecclesiastes sive de ratione concionandi trans. James L. P. Butrica ann. Frederick J. McGinness in Collected Works of Erasmus: Spiritualia and Pastoralia (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2015), 818. For parrhesia, see Susenbrotus, Epitome troporum, 64. Cf. Puttenham, Art, 312.

(13.) MacDonald P. Jackson, Defining Shakespeare: Pericles as Test Case (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), 150-53. Most critics consider Pericles a collaborative work, which Shakespeare co-wrote with the playwright George Wilkins. Generally speaking, acts 1 and 2 are attributed to Wilkins, while acts 3, 4, and 5 are attributed to Shakespeare. Cf. the note to Scene 11 in William Shakespeare and George Wilkins, Pericles, Prince of Tyre, ed. Roger Warren (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), 153; and the note to scene 3.1 in Pericles, ed. Suzanne Gossett (London: Arden Shakespeare, 2004), 276.

(14.) Erasmus' Annotations on the New Testament: Galatians to the Apocalypse: Facsimile of the final Latin Text with all earlier variants ed. Anne Reeve (New York: Brill, 1993), 591 (sig. Dd2r). On anapodoton, see Henry Peacham, The Garden of Eloquence (London, 1577), Flv For Renaissance efforts to define and represent Pauline style, see my "In Praise of Bad Prose: Reading Pauline Style in the Reformation" forthcoming in Renaissance Studies.

(15.) For Shakespeare's use of the Geneva Bible, see Naseeb Shaheen, "Shakespeare's Knowledge of the Bible--How Acquired," Shakespeare Studies 20 (1988): 206; and Barbara Mowat, "Shakespeare Reads the Geneva Bible" in Shakespeare, The Bible, 25-40.

(16.) For these principles, see Kevin Killeen, "Immethodical, Incoherent, Unadorned: Style and the Early Modern Bible" in The Oxford Handbook of English Prose: 1500-1640, ed. Andrew Hadfield (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 510.

(17.) Biblical citations are from the "Geneva-Tomson Bible," The Bible, that is, the Holy Scriptures, contained in the Olde and Newe Testament (London, 1595).

(18.) Erasmus notes the "extensive hyperbaton" (hyperbaton prolixius) in Erasmus' Annotations on the New Testament, 596 (sig. Dd4v).

(19.) For metalepsis, see Puttenham, Art, 267. The figure was difficult for Renaissance rhetoricians to consistently define and apply. See Brian Cummings, "Metalepsis: the Boundaries of Metaphor" in Renaissance Figures of Speech, ed. Sylvia Adamson, Gavin Alexander, and Katrin Ettenhuber (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 217-33.

(20.) John Chrysostom, An exposition upon ... Ephesians (London, 1581), 2 (Ail.

(21.) For asyndeton, see Quintilian, The Orator's, 9.3.53-54 (130-31).

(22.) For the marginalia, see The Bible, 590 (F5V). For Erasmus's paraphrase, see The second tome or volume of the Paraphrase of Erasmus upon the New Testament (London, 1549), sig. BBiv

(23.) The second tome, sig. AAir

(24.) All citations are from Pericles, ed. Suzanne Gossett. For the quote, see 3.1.1-14.

(25.) Jackson, Defining Shakespeare, 151. Cf. Naseeb Shaheen, Biblical References in Shakespeare's Plays (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 1999), 686. Pericles's use of the term "rebuke" also evokes Paul's writings (see below).

(26.) Critics have not explored the cultural associations between Paul and Pericles. For the play's sources, see Warren, Pericles, 13-20. Cf. Gossett, Pericles, 70-76; and the notes to the cast list of Pericles, Prince of Tyre, ed. Doreen Delvecchio and Antony Hammond (Cambridge; Cambridge University Press, 1998), 83.

(27.) Jerome, "Apologeticum ad Pammachium" (Letter 48) in Hilberg, Sancti Eusebii Hieronymi epistulae (Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum 54) (Vienna and Leipzig, 1910-18), 369-70.

(28.) Plutarch, The lives of the noble Grecians and Romanes trans. Thomas North (London, 1579), 171-72 (sig. Pii'-Pih). Cf. Quintilian, The Orator's, 12.10.24 (295): "And what about Pericles? Are we to think that his oratory was at all like Lysias' slender grace, when the comic poets, in attacking him, compare him to the lightning and thunder of heaven." None of Pericles's speeches survive, but his reputation as an orator endures. Thucydides, for instance, describes Pericles as "the man most effective in speech," while Plato claims that "no one could beat Pericles as an accomplished orator." See Thucydidis Historiae, ed. H. S. Jones (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1942), 1.139.4; and Plato, Phaedrus, trans. Robin Waterfield (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 61.

(29.) Desiderius Erasmus, Paraphrases on The Epistles to the Corinthians and the Epistles to the Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians, ed. Robert D. Sider, trans, and ann. Mechtilde O'Mara and Eward A. Phillips Jr. in Collected Works of Erasmus: New Testament Scholarship, ed. Robert D. Sider (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2009), v. 43,11. Latin in In universas epistolas apostolorum ... paraphrasis (Basil, 1522), sig. K7r

(30.) Nicolas Caussin, Eloquentiae sacrae et humanae (Paris, 1630), 936 (sie. 3C2cv).

(31.) Victor Strigel, A proceeding in the harmonie of King Davids harpe (London, 1591), 124 (sig. R2*).

(32.) See notes 44 and 46 below.

(33.) Kenneth Gross, Shylock is Shakespeare (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006), 86.

(34.) Gossett compares the speeches in the note to lines 1-14 in Pericles, 276.

(35.) William Shakespeare, King Lear, ed. R. A. Foakes (London: Arden Shakespeare, 1997), 3.2.1-9. Subsequent citation appears internally.

(36.) Following the 1609 quarto, for instance, DelVecchio and Hammond present lines 55-63 as part of one continuous discourse, punctuating line 56, "No light, no fire, Th'unfriendly elements ..." in Pericles, 137.

(37.) Gossett, Pericles, 9.

(38.) Peter Womack, "Shakespeare and the Sea of Stories," Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 29, no. 1 (1999): 171. Cf. Gossett, Pericles, 118.

(39.) For the letter to Raleigh, see Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene ed. A. C. Hamilton et al. (New York: Pearson Education, 2001), 717.

(40.) The lines appear in a portion of the play that critics generally assign to Wilkins. This does not, however, preclude Shakespeare's role in developing the theme, which he may have recognized in Wilkins's sections and expanded in his own sections or else introduced into Wilkins's scenes in revision.

(41.) For Paul as a "patern of patience," see Thomas Bilson, The suruey of Christs sufferings (London, 1604), 72 (Hlr).

(42.) Marina later appears to Pericles as an emblem of this achievement, even as she herself patiently restores him to life: "[T]hou does look / Like patience," Pericles muses to Marina during their recognition scene, "gazing on kings' graves, and smiling / Extremity out of act" (5.1.128-30).

(43.) Diehl, "Does not the stone," 73.

(44.) Erasmus describes the condemnation as "a terrifying thunderbolt" (fulmen terrificum). See Erasmus, In universas epistoias, K4r

(45.) Erasmus' Annotations on the New Testament: Acts--Romans--I and II Corinthians: Facsimile of the final Latin text with all earlier variants, ed. Anne Reeve and M.A. Screech (Leiden: Brill, 1990), 350 (sig. Gv).

(46.) The second tome, sig. aair Martin Luther describes how Paul "bursteth out into plaine thunderings and lightenings" as he rebukes the Galatians. See Martin Luther, A Commentarie ... upon the Epistle of S. Paul to the Galatians (London, 1575), 22 (Cviv).

(47.) Luther comments on the passage that "here the simple reader haply may be deceived, if he be not circumspect, to thinke that Paule in teaching keepeth no order at all. And surely after the manner of the Rhetoricians he observeth none: but as concerning the spirite he useth a goodly order." See Luther, A Commentarie, 87 (sig. L7V). The Geneva editors heavily supplement Paul's questions with glosses and paraphrases.

(48.) All citations are from The Winter's Tale, ed, Stephen Orgel (Oxford: Oxford University Press), 1996).

(49.) Martin, "Paulina, Corinthian Women," 71.

(50.) For Paul's maternal metaphors and imagery, see Beverly Roberts Gaventa, Our Mother of Saint Paul (Westminster: John Knox Press, 2007).

(51.) The biblical philologist Salomon Glassius, for instance, describes how Paul wins sympathy from his readers with "many maternal appeals [maternis blandimentis]" in Philologiae Sacrae (Jenae, 1623), 310 (sig. 2Rlv).

(52.) For the relations between Emilia and Paulina, see Dorothy Kehler, "Shakespeare's Emilia's and the Politics of Celibacy" in In Another Country: Feminist Perspectives on Renaissance Drama, ed. Dorothy Kehler and Susan Baker (Metuchen: The Scarecrow Press, 1991), 157-80.

(53.) All citations are from The Comedy of Errors, ed. Charles Whitworth.

(54.) For an introduction to the terms "romance" and "tragicomedy," see Barbara Mowat, '"What's in a Name': Tragicomedy, Romance, or Late Comedy" in A Companion to Shakespeare's Works: The Poems, Problem Comedies, Late Plays, ed. Richard Dutton and Jean Howard (Oxford: Blackwell, 2003), 129-50.

(55.) Plautus, ed. Paul Nixon (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1916), v. 1, pg. 1-122,11. 51-63.

(56.) Giambattista Guarini, for instance, claimed Amphitruo as a precedent for his controversial pastoral tragicomedy II pastor fido. See Allan Gilbert, Literary Criticism: Plato to Dryden (New York: American Book Company, 1940), 509 ff. Philip Sidney acknowledges Amphitruo as the genre's classical precedent in An Apologie for Poetrie (London, 1595), ff. K2r-K2v. For the Renaissance reception of tragicomedy, see Tanya Pollard, "Tragicomedy" in The Oxford History of Classical Reception in English Literature: 1558-1660, v. 2, ed. Patrick Cheney and Philip Hardie (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015), 419. For the relations between mythic figures and literary forms in Renaissance literary theory, see Heather Dubrow, The Challenges of Orpheus: Lyric Poetry and Early Modern England (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2007), esp. 16-18.

(57.) Edward Chaloner, Sixe Sermons Preached by Edward Chaloner (London, 1623), 222 (sig. P7V)

(58.) Peter Martyr Vermigli, Most learned and fruitfull commentaries upon ... Romanes, trans. Henry Billingsley (London, 1568), sig. Biiir

(59.) Andrew Willet, Hexapla, that is, A six-fold commentarie upon ... Romanes (Cambridge, 1611), 8 (sig. A4V).

(60.) Gabriel Harvey refers to Paul as "a Christian Mercury" in Pierces Supererogation (London, 1593), 81 (sig. L2r).

(61.) Critics have not explored the relations between Paul and Mercury or their relevance to The Winter's Tale. For the sources of The Winter's Tale, see The Winter's Tale, ed. J. H. P. Pafford (London: Arden Shakespeare, 1963), xxvii-xxxvii. Cf. The Winter's Tale, ed. Susan Snyder and Deborah T. Curren-Aquino (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 66-73, and the notes to the cast list at 79.

(62.) Orgel, The Winter's Tale, 52.

(63.) For the importance of these themes across the late plays, see Raphael Lyne, Shakespeare's Late Work (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), esp. 6-8 and 30-80.

(64.) Sarah Beckwith stresses the significance of Paulina's authority in the chapel in Shakespeare and the Grammar of Forgiveness (New York: Cornell University Press, 2011), 144.

(65.) For the sermon, see The Works of Lancelot Andrewes (Library of AngloCatholic Theology, Oxford, 1854), v. 2, 206-20.

(66.) Erasmus, Paraphrases on The Epistles to the Corinthians, 3.

(67.) St. Jerome's Commentaries on Galatians, Titus, and Philemon, ed. and trans. Thomas Scheck (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2010), 358.

(68.) For "wonder" as the play's dominant mood, see T. G. Bishop, Shakespeare and the Theatre of Wonder (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 125-76; and Peter Piatt, Reason Diminished: Shakespeare and the Marvelous (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1997), 153-69.

(69.) van Es, Shakespeare in Company, 264-65.

(70.) Russ McDonald, Shakespeare's Late Style (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 1.

(71.) Gordon McMullan, Shakespeare and the Idea of Late Writing (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 5.
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