Original
Modern English
Young prince of Tyre, you have at large received The danger of the task you undertake.
Young prince of Tyre, you have fully understood The danger of the task you are taking on.
I have, Antiochus, and, with a soul Embolden’d with the glory of her praise, Think death no hazard in this enterprise.
I have, Antiochus, and with a heart Strengthened by the glory of her praise, I see death as no risk in this challenge.
Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride, For the embracements even of Jove himself; At whose conception, till Lucina reign’d, Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence, The senate-house of planets all did sit, To knit in her their best perfections.
Bring in our daughter, dressed like a bride, Ready even for the embrace of Jove himself; At her conception, until Lucina reigned, Nature gave her this gift, to bring joy to her presence, The assembly of planets gathered, To join their best qualities in her.
See where she comes, apparell’d like the spring, Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king Of every virtue gives renown to men! Her face the book of praises, where is read Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence Sorrow were ever razed and testy wrath Could never be her mild companion. You gods that made me man, and sway in love, That have inflamed desire in my breast To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree, Or die in the adventure, be my helps, As I am son and servant to your will, To compass such a boundless happiness!
Look, here she comes, dressed like the spring, Blessing all around her, and her thoughts make the king Of all virtues shine brightly in men! Her face is the book of praises, where we read Only delightful pleasures, as if from there Sorrow was erased, and anger Could never be her companion. You gods who made me human, and rule in love, You who have set desire aflame in my heart To taste the fruit of that heavenly tree, Or die trying, be my guides, As I am both your son and servant, To achieve such limitless happiness!
Prince Pericles,--
Prince Pericles,--
That would be son to great Antiochus.
You who would be the son of great Antiochus.
Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch’d; For death-like dragons here affright thee hard: Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view Her countless glory, which desert must gain; And which, without desert, because thine eye Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die. Yon sometimes famous princes, like thyself, Drawn by report, adventurous by desire, Tell thee, with speechless tongues and semblance pale, That without covering, save yon field of stars, Here they stand martyrs, slain in Cupid’s wars; And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist For going on death’s net, whom none resist.
Before you stands this beautiful Hesperides, With golden fruit, but dangerous to touch; For death-like dragons here frighten you badly: Her face, like heaven, tempts you to look at Her endless glory, which must be earned; And which, without earning it, because your eye Dares to reach, will cause all your men to die. Those famous princes, like yourself, Lured by reputation, daring by desire, Tell you, with silent mouths and pale faces, That without protection, except the field of stars, Here they stand, martyrs, killed in love’s wars; And with dead faces warn you to stop Before you step into death’s trap, which no one can escape.
Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught My frail mortality to know itself, And by those fearful objects to prepare This body, like to them, to what I must; For death remember’d should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error. I’ll make my will then, and, as sick men do Who know the world, see heaven, but, feeling woe, Gripe not at earthly joys as erst they did; So I bequeath a happy peace to you And all good men, as every prince should do; My riches to the earth from whence they came; But my unspotted fire of love to you.
Antiochus, I thank you, for teaching My fragile mortality to understand itself, And by these frightening visions to prepare This body, like theirs, for what I must face; For death, when remembered, should be like a mirror, Showing us that life is just a breath, and trusting it is foolish. I’ll make my will now, and, like sick men do Who understand the world, see heaven, but, feeling sorrow, Don’t cling to earthly joys as they once did; So I leave a peaceful life to you And all good people, as every prince should; My wealth to the earth from which it came; But my pure love to you.
Thus ready for the way of life or death, I wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus.
Ready for life or death, I await the hardest blow, Antiochus.
Scorning advice, read the conclusion then: Which read and not expounded, ’tis decreed, As these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed.
Disregarding advice, read the answer then: Which, if read and not explained, means As these before you, you too will bleed.
Of all say’d yet, mayst thou prove prosperous! Of all say’d yet, I wish thee happiness!
Of all that’s been said, may you be prosperous! Of all that’s been said, I wish you happiness!
Like a bold champion, I assume the lists, Nor ask advice of any other thought But faithfulness and courage.
Like a brave fighter, I step into the arena, Nor seek advice from any other thought Except loyalty and courage.
I am no viper, yet I feed On mother’s flesh which did me breed. I sought a husband, in which labour I found that kindness in a father: He’s father, son, and husband mild; I mother, wife, and yet his child. How they may be, and yet in two, As you will live, resolve it you. Sharp physic is the last: but, O you powers That give heaven countless eyes to view men’s acts, Why cloud they not their sights perpetually, If this be true, which makes me pale to read it? Fair glass of light, I loved you, and could still,
I’m no snake, yet I feed On my mother’s flesh that gave me life. I sought a husband, and in that search I found kindness in a father: He’s father, son, and husband too; I’m mother, wife, and yet his child. How they can be both, yet in two forms, As you will live, you must figure it out. Bitter medicine is the last option: but, oh powers Who give heaven countless eyes to see men’s deeds, Why don’t you always cloud their vision, If this is true, which makes me sick to read it? Fair light, I loved you, and could still,
Were not this glorious casket stored with ill: But I must tell you, now my thoughts revolt For he’s no man on whom perfections wait That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate. You are a fair viol, and your sense the strings; Who, finger’d to make man his lawful music, Would draw heaven down, and all the gods, to hearken: But being play’d upon before your time, Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime. Good sooth, I care not for you.
If this beautiful box wasn’t filled with evil: But I must tell you, now my feelings change For he’s no man who waits for perfection Who, knowing sin inside, would enter that gate. You are a beautiful violin, and your sense the strings; Who, played to make man his lawful music, Would bring heaven down, and all the gods, to listen: But being played upon too early, Hell alone dances at such a harsh tune. Honestly, I don’t care for you.
Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life. For that’s an article within our law, As dangerous as the rest. Your time’s expired: Either expound now, or receive your sentence.
Prince Pericles, don’t touch, for your life’s at risk. For that’s an article in our law, As dangerous as the rest. Your time is up: Either explain now, or face your judgment.
Great king, Few love to hear the sins they love to act; ’Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it. Who has a book of all that monarchs do, He’s more secure to keep it shut than shown: For vice repeated is like the wandering wind. Blows dust in other’s eyes, to spread itself; And yet the end of all is bought thus dear, The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear: To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts Copp’d hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is throng’d By man’s oppression; and the poor worm doth die for’t. Kings are earth’s gods; in vice their law’s their will; And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill? It is enough you know; and it is fit, What being more known grows worse, to smother it. All love the womb that their first being bred, Then give my tongue like leave to love my head.
Great king, Few like to hear the sins they enjoy committing; It would bring us too close for me to tell you. Whoever has a book of everything kings do, Is safer to keep it closed than open: For vice repeated is like the wandering wind. It blows dust in others’ eyes, to spread itself; And yet the end of all is paid so dearly, The breath is gone, and the sore eyes can see clearly: To stop the air would harm them. The blind mole digs Hills towards heaven, to show the earth is crowded By man’s oppression; and the poor worm dies for it. Kings are the gods of the earth; in vice their law’s Their will; And if Jupiter strays, who dares say he does wrong? It’s enough you know; and it’s right, What, being more known, grows worse, to hide it. Everyone loves the womb that gave them life, Then give my tongue permission to love my head.
[Aside] Heaven, that I had thy head! he has found the meaning: But I will gloze with him.--Young prince of Tyre, Though by the tenor of our strict edict, Your exposition misinterpreting, We might proceed to cancel of your days; Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise: Forty days longer we do respite you; If by which time our secret be undone, This mercy shows we’ll joy in such a son: And until then your entertain shall be As doth befit our honour and your worth.
[Aside] Heaven, I wish I had your head! You’ve figured it out: But I will flatter him.--Young prince of Tyre, Though according to our strict laws, Your explanation misinterprets things, We might cancel your life; Yet hope, coming from such a noble tree As yourself, changes our minds: Forty more days we grant you; If by that time our secret is revealed, This mercy shows we’ll rejoice in such a son: And until then, your treatment will be As befits our honor and your worth.
How courtesy would seem to cover sin, When what is done is like an hypocrite, The which is good in nothing but in sight! If it be true that I interpret false, Then were it certain you were not so bad As with foul incest to abuse your soul; Where now you’re both a father and a son, By your untimely claspings with your child, Which pleasure fits an husband, not a father; And she an eater of her mother’s flesh, By the defiling of her parent’s bed; And both like serpents are, who though they feed On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed. Antioch, farewell! for wisdom sees, those men Blush not in actions blacker than the night, Will shun no course to keep them from the light. One sin, I know, another doth provoke; Murder’s as near to lust as flame to smoke: Poison and treason are the hands of sin, Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame: Then, lest my lie be cropp’d to keep you clear, By flight I’ll shun the danger which I fear.
How politeness seems to hide wrongdoing, When what is done is like a liar, Which is only good for appearances! If I’m wrong in how I understand this, Then it’s certain you’re not as bad As committing incest and corrupting your soul; Where now you’re both a father and a son, By your untimely closeness with your child, Which pleasure belongs to a husband, not a father; And she a devourer of her mother’s flesh, By defiling her parent’s bed; And both like serpents, who though they eat The sweetest flowers, still breed poison. Antioch, goodbye! For wisdom sees that men Who don’t blush at actions darker than the night, Will stop at nothing to avoid the truth. One sin, I know, leads to another; Murder is as close to lust as fire is to smoke: Poison and treason are hands of sin, And the targets to take away the shame: So, lest my lie be cut off to protect you, I’ll escape by flight from the danger I fear.
He hath found the meaning, for which we mean To have his head. He must not live to trumpet forth my infamy, Nor tell the world Antiochus doth sin In such a loathed manner; And therefore instantly this prince must die: For by his fall my honour must keep high. Who attends us there?
He has figured out the meaning, for which we intend To have his head. He cannot live to expose my disgrace, Nor tell the world that Antiochus sins In such a hated way; And so, right away, this prince must die: For by his fall, my honor must stay high. Who is with us there?
Doth your highness call?
Does your highness call?
Thaliard, You are of our chamber, and our mind partakes Her private actions to your secrecy; And for your faithfulness we will advance you. Thaliard, behold, here’s poison, and here’s gold; We hate the prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him: It fits thee not to ask the reason why, Because we bid it. Say, is it done?
Thaliard, You’re part of our inner circle, and you know Her private matters are your secret to keep; And for your loyalty, we’ll reward you. Thaliard, look, here’s poison, and here’s gold; We hate the prince of Tyre, and you must kill him: Don’t ask why, just do it because we say so. Is it done?
My lord, ’Tis done.
My lord, It’s done.
Enough.
Enough.
Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.
Let your breath cool, telling me in your own time.
My lord, prince Pericles is fled.
My lord, prince Pericles has fled.
As thou Wilt live, fly after: and like an arrow shot From a well-experienced archer hits the mark His eye doth level at, so thou ne’er return Unless thou say ’Prince Pericles is dead.’
As you Will live, go after him: and like an arrow shot From a skilled archer that hits the mark He’s aiming at, don’t return Unless you say ‘Prince Pericles is dead.’
My lord, If I can get him within my pistol’s length, I’ll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness.
My lord, If I can get him within range of my pistol, I’ll make sure he’s done for: so, farewell to your highness.
Thaliard, adieu!
Thaliard, goodbye!
Till Pericles be dead, My heart can lend no succor to my head.
Until Pericles is dead, My heart can’t help my mind.