By you being pardon’d, we commit no crime
To use one language in each several clime
Where our scenes seem to live. I do beseech you
To learn of me, who stand i’ the gaps to teach you,
The stages of our story. Pericles
Is now again thwarting the wayward seas
Attended on by many a lord and knight,
To see his daughter, all his life’s deight.
Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late
Advanced in time to great and high estate.
Is left to govern. Bear you it in mind,
Old Helicanus goes along behind
Well-sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought
This king to Tarsus, — think his pilot thought;
So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on, —
To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.
Like motes and shadows see them move awhile;
Your ears unto your eyes I’ll reconcile.
[Dumb Show.]
[Enter Pericles, at one door, with all his train; Cleon and
Dionyza, at the other. Cleon shows Pericles the tomb; whereat
Pericles makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a
mighty passion departs. Then exeunt Cleon and Dionyza.]
See how belief may suffer by foul show;
This borrow’d passion stands for true old woe;
And Pericles, in sorrow all devour’d,
With sighs shot through; and biggest tears o’ershower’d,
Leaves Tarsus and again embarks. He swears
Never to wash his face, nor cut his hairs:
He puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears
A tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,
And yet he rides it out. Now please you wit
The epitaph is for Marina writ
By wicked Dionyza.
[Reads the inscription on Marina’s monument.]
‘The fairest, sweet’st, and best lies here,
Who wither’d in her spring of year.
She was of Tyrus the king’s daughter,
On whom foul death hath made this slaughter;
Marina was she call’d; and at her birth,
Thetis, being proud, swallow’d some part o’ the earth:
Therefore the earth, fearing to be o’erflow’d,
Hath Thetis’ birth-child on the heavens bestow’d:
Wherefore she does, and swears she’ll never stint,
Make raging battery upon shores of flint.’
No visor does become black villany
So well as soft and tender flattery.
Let Pericles believe his daughter’s dead,
And bear his courses to be ordered
By Lady Fortune; while our scene must play
His daughter’s woe and heavy well-a-day
In her unholy service. Patience, then,
And think you now are all in Mytilene.
[Exit.]
SCENE V. Mytilene. A street before the brothel.
[Enter, from the brothel, two Gentlemen.]
FIRST GENTLEMAN.
Did you ever hear the like?
SECOND GENTLEMAN. No, nor never shall do in such a place as this, she being once gone.
FIRST GENTLEMAN. But to have divinity preached there! did you ever dream of such a thing?
SECOND GENTLEMAN. No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdy-houses: shall’s go hear the vestals sing?
FIRST GENTLEMAN. I’ll do any thing now that is virtuous; but I am out of the road of rutting for ever.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE VI. The same. A room in the brothel.
[Enter Pandar, Bawd, and Boult.]
PANDAR. Well, I had rather than twice the worth of her she had ne’er come here.
BAWD. Fie, fie upon her! she’s able to freeze the god Priapus, and undo a whole generation. We must either get her ravished, or be rid of her. When she should do for clients her fitment, and do me the kindness of our profession, she has me her quirks, her reasons, her master reasons, her prayers, her knees; that she would make a puritan of the devil, if he should cheapen a kiss of her.
BOULT. ‘Faith, I must ravish her, or she’ll disfurnish us of all our cavaliers, and make our swearers priests.
PANDAR.
Now, the pox upon her green-sickness for me!
BAWD.
‘Faith, there’s no way to be rid on’t but by the way to the pox.
Here comes the Lord Lysimachus disguised.
BOULT. We should have both lord and lown, if the peevish baggage would but give way to customers.
[Enter Lysimachus.]
LYSIMACHUS.
How now! How a dozen of virginities?
BAWD.
Now, the gods to bless your honour!
BOULT.
I am glad to see your honour in good health.
LYSIMACHUS. You may so; ‘tis the better for you that your resorters stand upon sound legs. How now! wholesome iniquity have you that a man may deal withal, and defy the surgeon?
BAWD. We have here one, sir, if she would — but there never came her like in Mytilene.
LYSIMACHUS.
If she’ld do the deed of darkness, thou wouldst say.
BAWD.
Your honour knows what ‘tis to say well enough.
LYSIMACHUS.
Well, call forth, call forth.
BOULT. For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you shall see a rose; and she were a rose indeed, if she had but —
LYSIMACHUS.
What, prithee?
BOULT.
O, sir, I can be modest.
LYSIMACHUS. That dignifies the renown of a bawd, no less than it gives a good report to a number to be chaste.
[Exit Boult.]
BAWD. Here comes that which grows to the stalk; never plucked yet, I can assure you.
[Re-enter Boult with Marina.]
Is she not a fair creature?
LYSIMACHUS. ‘Faith, she would serve after a long voyage at sea. Well, there’s for you: leave us.
BAWD. I beseech your honour, give me leave: a word, and I’ll have done presently.
LYSIMACHUS.
I beseech you, do.
BAWD.
[To Marina.]
First, I would have you note, this is an honourable man.
MARINA.