On board PERICLES' Ship, off Mitylene. A Pavilion on deck, with a curtain before it; PERICLES within it, reclined on a couch. A barge lying beside the Tyrian vessel. |
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Enter two Sailors, one belonging to the Tyrian vessel, the other to the barge; to them HELICANUS. |
Tyr. Sail. [To the Sailor of Mitylene.] Where's the Lord Helicanus? he can resolve you. |
O! here he is.— |
Sir, there's a barge put off from Mitylene, |
And in it is Lysimachus, the governor, |
Who craves to come aboard. What is your will? |
Hel. That he have his. Call up some gentlemen. |
Tyr. Sail. Ho, gentlemen! my lord calls. |
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Enter two or three Gentlemen. |
First Gent. Doth your lordship call? |
Hel. Gentlemen, there's some of worth would come aboard; |
I pray ye, greet them fairly. [Gentlemen and Sailors descend, and go on board the barge. |
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Enter from thence, LYSIMACHUS and Lords; the Gentlemen and the two Sailors. |
Tyr. Sail. Sir, |
This is the man that can, in aught you would, |
Resolve you. |
Lys. Hail, reverend sir! The gods preserve you! |
Hel. And you, sir, to outlive the age I am, |
And die as I would do. |
Lys. You wish me well. |
Being on shore, honouring of Neptune's triumphs, |
Seeing this goodly vessel ride before us, |
I made to it to know of whence you are. |
Hel. First, what is your place? |
Lys. I am the governor of this place you lie before. |
Hel. Sir, |
Our vessel is of Tyre, in it the king; |
A man who for this three months hath not spoken |
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; |
But bootless is your sight: he will not speak |
To any. |
Lys. Yet let me obtain my wish. |
Hel. Behold him. [PERICLES discovered.] This was a goodly person, |
Till the disaster that, one mortal night, |
Drove him to this. |
Lys. Sir king, all hail! the gods preserve you! |
Hail, royal sir! |
Hel. It is in vain; he will not speak to you. |
First Lord. Sir, |
We have a maid in Mitylene, I durst wager, |
Would win some words of him. |
Lys. 'Tis well bethought. |
She questionless with her sweet harmony |
And other chosen attractions, would allure, |
And make a battery through his deafen'd ports |
Which now are midway stopp'd: |
She is all happy as the fair'st of all, |
And with her fellow maids is now upon |
The leafy shelter that abuts against |
The island's side. [Whispers first Lord, who puts off in the barge of LYSIMACHUS. |
Hel. Sure, all's effectless; yet nothing we'll omit, |
That bears recovery's name. But, since your kindness |
We have stretch'd thus far, let us beseech you, |
That for our gold we may provision have, |
Wherein we are not destitute for want, |
But weary for the staleness. |
Lys. O! sir, a courtesy, |
Which if we should deny, the most just gods |
For every graff would send a caterpillar, |
And so afflict our province. Yet once more |
Let me entreat to know at large the cause |
Of your king's sorrow. |
Hel. Sit, sir, I will recount it to you; |
But see, I am prevented. |
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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 |
Came of a gentle kind and noble stock, |
I'd wish no better choice, and think me rarely wed. |
Fair one, all goodness that consists in bounty |
Expect even here, where is a kingly patient: |
If that thy prosperous and artificial feat |
Can draw him but to answer thee in aught, |
Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay |
As thy desires can wish. |
Mar. Sir, I will use |
My utmost skill in his recovery, |
Provided |
That none but I and my companion maid |
Be suffer'd to come near him. |
Lys. Come, let us leave her; |
And the gods make her prosperous! [MARINA sings. |
Lys. 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 weigh'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 parentage— |
To equal mine!—was it not thus? what say you? |
Mar. I said, my lord, if you did know my 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 |
My daughter might have been: my queen's square brows; |
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, |
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. Should I tell my history, it would seem |
Like lies, disdain'd in the reporting. |
Per. Prithee, speak; |
Falseness cannot come from thee, for thou look'st |
Modest as justice, and thou seem'st a palace |
For the crown'd truth to dwell in. I believe thee, |
And make my senses credit thy relation |
To points that seem impossible; for thou lookest |
Like one I lov'd indeed. What were thy friends? |
Didst thou not say when I did push thee back,— |
Which was when I perceiv'd thee,—that thou cam'st |
From good descending? |
Mar. So indeed I did. |
Per. Report thy parentage. I think thou saidst |
Thou hadst been toss'd from wrong to injury, |
And that thou thought'st thy griefs might equal mine, |
If both were open'd. |
Mar. Some such thing |
I said, and said no more but what my thoughts |
Did warrant me was likely. |
Per. Tell thy story; |
If thine consider'd prove the thousandth part |
Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I |
Have suffer'd like a girl; yet thou dost look |
Like Patience gazing on kings' graves, and smiling |
Extremity out of act. What were thy friends? |
How lost thou them? Thy name, my most kind virgin? |
Recount, I do beseech thee. Come, sit by me. |
Mar. My name is Marina. |
Per. O! I am mock'd, |
And thou by some incensed god sent hither |
To make the world to laugh at me. |
Mar. Patience, good sir, |
Or here I'll cease. |
Per. Nay, I'll be patient. |
Thou little know'st how thou dost startle me, |
To call thyself Marina. |
Mar. The name |
Was given me by one that had some power; |
My father, and a king. |
Per. How! a king's daughter? |
And call'd Marina? |
Mar. You said you would believe me; |
But, not to be a troubler of your peace, |
I will end here. |
Per. 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. Call'd Marina |
For I was born at sea. |
Per. 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. |
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. |
Mar. You'll scorn to believe me; 'twere best I did give o'er. |
Per. I will believe you by the syllable |
Of what you shall deliver. Yet, give me leave: |
How came you in these parts? where were you bred? |
Mar. The king my father did in Tarsus leave me, |
Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife, |
Did seek to murder me; and having woo'd |
A villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do 't, |
A crew of pirates came and rescu'd me; |
Brought me to Mitylene. But, good sir, |
Whither will you have me? Why do you weep? It may be |
You think me an impostor; no, good faith; |
I am the daughter to King Pericles, |
If good King Pericles be. |
Per. Ho, Helicanus! |
Hel. Calls my lord? |
Per. Thou art a grave and noble counsellor, |
Most wise in general; tell me, if thou canst, |
What this maid is, or what is like to be, |
That thus hath made me weep? |
Hel. I know not; but |
Here is the regent, sir, of Mitylene, |
Speaks nobly of her. |
Lys. She never would tell |
Her parentage; being demanded that, |
She would sit still and weep. |
Per. O Helicanus! strike me, honour'd sir; |
Give me a gash, put me to present pain, |
Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me |
O'erbear the shores of my mortality, |
And drown me with their sweetness. O! come hither, |
Thou that begett'st him that did thee beget; |
Thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus, |
And found at sea again. O Helicanus! |
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. First, sir, I pray, |
What is your title? |
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. |
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, |
Give 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. |
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? |
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? |
Lys. My lord, I hear. [Music. |
Per. Most heavenly music: |
It nips me unto list'ning, and thick slumber |
Hangs upon mine eyes; let me rest. [Sleeps. |
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. |
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DIANA appears to PERICLES as in a vision. |
Dia. My temple stands in Ephesus; hie thee thither, |
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! |
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Enter HELICANUS, LYSIMACHUS, and MARINA. |
Hel. Sir? |
Per. My purpose was for Tarsus, there to strike |
The inhospitable Cleon: but I am |
For other service first: toward Ephesus |
Turn our blown sails; eftsoons I'll tell thee why. |
[To LYSIMACHUS.] Shall we refresh us, sir, upon your shore, |
And give you gold for such provision |
As our intents will need? |
Lys. Sir, |
With all my heart; and when you come ashore, |
I have another suit. |
Per. You shall prevail, |
Were it to woo my daughter; for it seems |
You have been noble towards her. |
Lys. Sir, lend me your arm. |
Per. Come, my Marina. [Exeunt. |
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