Plays and Poems

Our vessel is of Tyre, in it the king;

My utmost skill in his recovery, Provided

A man who for this three months hath not spoken That none but I and my companion maid

To any one, nor taken sustenance

But to prorogue his grief.

Lys. Upon what ground is his distemperature?

Hel. 'Twould be too tedious to repeat;

But the main grief springs from the loss

Of a beloved daughter and a wife.

Lys. May we not see him?

Hel. You may;

Be suffer'd to come near him. Lys.

Come, let us leave her:

MARINA sing

And the gods make her prosperous!

Mark'd he your music?
Mar.

No, nor look'd on us.

Lys. See, she will speak to him.
Mar. Hail, sir! my lord, lend ear.
Per. Hum! ha!

Mar. I am a maid,

My lord, that ne'er before invited eyes,

But have been gaz'd on like a comet; she speaks, My lord, that, may be, hath endur'd a grief Might equal yours, if both were justly weizh'd Though wayward fortune did malign my state, My derivation was from ancestors Who stood equivalent with mighty kings; But time hath rooted out my parentage, And to the world and awkward casualties Bound me in servitude. Aside. I will desist: But there is something glows upon my cheek, And whispers in mine ear 'Go not till he speak

Per. My fortunes-parentage-good parent age

To equal mine!-- was it not thus? what say you! Mar. I said, my lord, if you did know parentage,

You would not do me violence.

Per. I do think so. Pray you, turn your eyes upon me.

You are like something that-What country

woman?

Here of these shores?

Mar.

No, nor of any shores: Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am No other than I appear.

Per. I am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping.

My dearest wife was like this maid, and such a

one

square brows ;

My daughter might have been : my queen's

Her stature to an inch; as wand-like straight:
As silver-voic'd; her eyes as jewel-like,
And cas'd as richly; in pace another Juno;
Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them

hungry,

Sit, sir, I will recount it to you;

But see, I am prevented.

Re-enter, from the barge, Lord, with MARINA and a young Lady.

Lys.

O! here is

The lady that I sent for. Welcome, fair one!
Is 't not a goodly presence?
Hel.

She's a gallant lady.

Lys. She's such a one, that, were I well

assur'd

She came of gentle kind and noble stock,

The more she gives them speech. Where do you live?

Mar. Where I am but a stranger; from the

deck

You may discern the place.
Per.

Where were you bred '
And how achiev'd you these endowments which
You make more rich to owe?

Mar. If I should tell my history, it would seem

Like lies, disdain'd in the reporting.

Per.

Prithee, speak:

How! a king's daughter?

You said you would believe me;

But, not to be a troubler of your peace,
I will end here.
Per.

151

But are you flesh and blood?
Have you a working pulse? and are no fairy?
Motion! Well; speak on. Where were you
born?

And wherefore call'd Marina?
Mar.

For I was born at sea.
Per.

Call'd Marina

At sea! what mother?

Mar. My mother was the daughter of a king;
Who died the minute I was born,

As my good nurse Lychorida hath oft
Deliver'd weeping.

Per.

O! stop there a little.

160

Aside. This is the rarest dream that e'er dull sleep

Did mock sad fools withal; this cannot be.

My daughter's buried. Well; where were you
bred?

I'll hear you more, to the bottom of your story,
And never interrupt you.

Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods as loud
As thunder threatens us; this is Marina.
What was thy mother's name? tell me but that.
For truth can never be confirm'd enough,
Though doubts did ever sleep.

Mar.

What is your title ?

201

First, sir, I pray,

Per. I am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now My drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said Thou hast been god-like perfect;

Thou 'rt heir of kingdoms, and another life

To Pericles thy father.

210

Mar. Is it no more to be your daughter than
To say my mother's name was Thaisa?
Thaisa was my mother, who did end
The minute I began.

Per. Now, blessing on thee! rise; thou art
my child.

.me fresh garments! Mine own, Helicanus;
She is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,
By savage Cleon; she shall tell thee all;
When thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge
She is thy very princess. Who is this?

Hel. Sir, 'tis the governor of Mitylene,
Who, hearing of your melancholy state,
Did come to see you.

Per.

I embrace you.

220

Give me my robes; I am wild in my beholding.
O heavens! bless my girl. But hark! what music?
Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him

O'er, point by point, for yet he seems to doubt,
How sure you are my daughter. But what music?

978

Hel. My lord, I hear none. Per. None!

The music of the spheres! List, my Marina.

Lys. It is not good to cross him; give him way.

Per. Rarest sounds! Do ye not hear?

231

Lys. My lord, I hear.

Music.

Per.

Most heavenly music:

Sleeps.

It nips me unto list'ning, and thick slumber
Hangs upon mine eyes; let me rest.

Lys. A pillow for his head.

So, leave him all. Well, my companion friends, If this but answer to my just belief,

I'll well remember you.

Exeunt all but PERICLES.

DIANA appears to PERICLES as in a vision.

Dia. My temple stands in Ephesus; hie thee thither,

240

And do upon mine altar sacrifice. There, when my maiden priests are met together, Before the people all,

Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife:

To mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call And give them repetition to the life.

Perform my bidding, or thou liv'st in woe; Do it, and happy; by my silver bow !

Awake, and tell thy dream!

Disappears.

Per. Celestial Dian, goddess argentine,

I will obey thee! Helicanus!

Re-enter LYSIMACHUS, HELICANUS, and

Hel.

MARINA.

At Ephesus, the temple see,
Our king and all his company.
That he can hither come so soon,
Is by your fancy's thankful doom. Exit. »

SCENE III. The Temple of DIANA at Ephesus: THAISA standing near the altar, as high priestess a number of Virgins on each side; CERIMON and other Inhabitants of Ephesus attending.

Enter PERICLES, with his Train; LYSIMACHUS HELICANUS, MARINA, and a Lady.

Per. Hail, Dian! to perform thy just com
mand,

I here confess myself the King of Tyre:
Who, frighted from my country, did wed
At Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.

At sea in childbed died she, but brought forth
A maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess!
Wears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus
Was nurs'd with Cleon, whom at fourteen years
He sought to murder; but her better stars
Brought her to Mitylene, 'gainst whose shore
Riding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us
Where, by her own most clear remembrance, she
Made known herself my daughter.
Thai.

Voice and favour
Faints
You are, you are-O royal Pericles!
Per. What means the nun? she dies; help

Per. My purpose was for Tarsus, there to strike If you have told Diana's altar true,

Turn our blown sails; eftsoons I 'll tell thee why. I threw her overboard with these very arms.

With all my heart; and when you come ashore, Thrown on this shore. I op'd the coffin,

Found there rich jewels; recover'd her, and plac'd her

Were it to woo my daughter; for it seems You have been noble towards her.

Here in Diana's temple.

Per.

May we see them!

Sir, lend your arm.

Exeunt.

Now our sands are almost run;
More a little, and then dumb.

This, my last boon, give me,

For such kindness must relieve me,

That you aptly will suppose What pageantry, what feats, what shows, What minstrelsy, and pretty din, The regent made in Mitylen To greet the king. So he thriv'd, That he is promis'd to be wiv'd To fair Marina; but in no wise Till he had done his sacrifice, As Dian bade: whereto being bound, The interim, pray you, all confound. In feather'd briefness sails are fill'd, And wishes fall out as they're will'd.

Cer. Great sir, they shall be brought you
my house,

Whither I invite you. Look! Thaisa is
Recovered.

Thai.

O! let me look.

If he be none of mine, my sanctity

Will to my sense bend no licentious ear,
But curb it, spite of seeing. O! my lord,
Are you not Pericles? Like him you speak.
Like him you are. Did you not name a tempest
A birth, and death?

Per.

The voice of dead Thaisa

Thai. That Thaisa am I, supposed dead
And drown'd.

Per. Immortal Dian!
Thai.

Now I know you better

When we with tears parted Pentapolis.
The king my father gave you such a ring.

Per. This, this: no more, you gods! you
present kindness

Makes my past miseries sports: you shall de
That on the touching of her lips I may

Shows an

well,

Per. You have heard me say, when I did fly from Tyre,

I left behind an ancient substitute;

Can you remember what I call'd the man ?
I have nam'd him oft.
Thai.

'Twas Helicanus then.

Per. Still confirmation!
Embrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.
Now do I long to hear how you were found,
How possibly preserv'd, and who to thank,
Besides the gods, for this great miracle.

This prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter Shall marry her at Pentapolis. And now

This ornament

Makes me look dismal will I clip to form ;
And what this fourteen years no razor touch'd,
To grace thy marriage-day I'll beautify.

Thai. Lord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir,

My father's dead.

Per. Heavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen,

We'll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves Will in that kingdom spend our following days;

Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.
Lord Cerimon, we do our longing stay
To hear the rest untold. Sir, lead's the way.

Enter GOWER.

Exeunt.

In Antiochus and his daughter you have heard
Of monstrous lust the due and just reward:
In Pericles, his queen, and daughter, seen,
Although assail'd with fortune fierce and keen,
Virtue preserv'd from fell destruction's blast,
Led on by heaven, and crown'd with joy at last.

In Helicanus may you well descry
A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty.
In reverend Cerimon there well appears
The worth that learned charity aye wears.
For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame
Had spread their cursed deed, and honour'd name

Of Pericles, to rage the city turn,

That him and his they in his palace burn :

The gods for murder seemed so content

To punish them; although not done, but meant. 100
So on your patience evermore attending,

New joy wait on you! Here our play has ending.

Exit.

VENUS AND ADONIS.

TO THE

RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,
EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, AND BARON

RIGHT HONOURABLE,

OF TICHFIELD.

I know not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden: only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a godfather, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own wish and the world's hopeful expectation.

Your honour's in all duty,

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.'

EVEN as the sun with purple-colour'd face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn;
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold-fac'd suitor 'gins to woo him.
'Thrice-fairer than myself,' thus she began,
The field's chief flower, sweet above compare,
Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
More white and red than doves or roses are;

Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.
'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses;
And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses:

And trembling in her passion, calls it balm.
Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
Being so enrag'd, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.
Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,
Under her other was the tender boy,
Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;

She red and hot as coals of glowing fire.
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.
The studded bridle on a ragged bough
Nimbly she fastens ; O! how quick is love:
The steed is stalled up, and even now
To tie the rider she begins to prove:
Backward she push'd him, as she would be
thrust,

And govern'd him in strength, though not it

lust.

And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety, So soon was she along, as he was down,

But rather famish them amid their plenty,
Making them red and pale with fresh variety;
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:
A summer's day will seem an hour but short,
Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.'
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood,

Each leaning on their elbows and their hips:
Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he

frown,

And 'gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips: And kissing speaks, with lustful language

broken,

'If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.

« Previous Continue »

Books