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pavilion on deck, with a curtain before it; PERICLES within it, reclined on a couch. A barge lying beside the Tyrian vessel.
pavilion on deck, with a curtain before it; PERICLES inside, lying on a couch. A barge is docked next to the Tyrian ship.
[To the Sailor of Mytilene] Where is lord Helicanus? he can resolve you. O, here he is. Sir, there’s a barge put off from Mytilene, And in it is Lysimachus the governor, Who craves to come aboard. What is your will?
[To the Sailor of Mytilene] Where is Lord Helicanus? He can answer your questions. Oh, here he is. Sir, there’s a barge leaving from Mytilene, And in it is Lysimachus, the governor, Who wishes to come aboard. What do you want us to do?
That he have his. Call up some gentlemen.
Let him come aboard. Call some men to help.
Ho, gentlemen! my lord calls.
Hey, gentlemen! My lord calls.
Doth your lordship call?
Did your lordship call?
Gentlemen, there’s some of worth would come aboard; I pray ye, greet them fairly.
Gentlemen, some important people want to come aboard; Please greet them properly.
Sir, This is the man that can, in aught you would, Resolve you.
Sir, This is the man who can, if you need anything, Answer your questions.
Hail, reverend sir! the gods preserve you!
Greetings, honorable sir! May the gods protect you!
And you, sir, to outlive the age I am, And die as I would do.
And you, sir, to outlive the age I am, And die as I would do.
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.
You wish me well. Being on shore, honoring Neptune’s triumphs, Seeing this fine ship in front of us, I went to it to find out where you’re from.
First, what is your place?
First, where are you from?
I am the governor of this place you lie before.
I’m the governor of this place you’ve arrived at.
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.
Sir, Our ship is from Tyre, and on it is the king; A man who, for the last three months, hasn’t spoken To anyone, nor eaten anything, Except to put off his sorrow.
Upon what ground is his distemperature?
What’s causing his sadness?
’Twould be too tedious to repeat; But the main grief springs from the loss Of a beloved daughter and a wife.
It would take too long to explain; But the main reason is the loss Of a beloved daughter and wife.
May we not see him?
Can we not see him?
You may; But bootless is your sight: he will not speak To any.
You can; But it will be pointless: he won’t talk to anyone.
Yet let me obtain my wish.
Still, let me try to make my request.
Behold him.
Look at him.
This was a goodly person, Till the disaster that, one mortal night, Drove him to this.
This was a fine man, Until the disaster that, one fateful night, Changed him into this.
Sir king, all hail! the gods preserve you! Hail, royal sir!
Sir king, greetings! May the gods keep you safe! Greetings, royal sir!
It is in vain; he will not speak to you.
It’s no use; he won’t respond to you.
Sir, We have a maid in Mytilene, I durst wager, Would win some words of him.
Sir, We have a girl in Mytilene, I’d bet, Who could get some words out of him.
’Tis well bethought. She questionless with her sweet harmony And other chosen attractions, would allure, And make a battery through his deafen’d parts, Which now are midway stopp’d: She is all happy as the fairest of all, And, with her fellow maids is now upon The leafy shelter that abuts against The island’s side.
It’s a good idea. She will surely, with her sweet music And other appealing qualities, attract him, And break through his hardened, deafened heart, Which is now only halfway blocked: She is as happy as the fairest of them all, And, with her fellow girls, is now on The leafy shelter that touches the side Of the island.
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.
Surely, it’s all in vain; yet we won’t skip Anything that might bring him back. But, since you’ve been so kind To help us this far, let us ask you To give us provisions for our gold, Not because we’re starving, But because we’re tired of the same old food.
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.
Oh, sir, it’s a favor That if we refused it, the just gods Would send a plague, like caterpillars, to ruin our land, And so punish our province. Once again Let me beg to understand fully the reason For your king’s sorrow.
Sit, sir, I will recount it to you: But, see, I am prevented.
Sit down, sir, I’ll tell you the story: But wait, I am interrupted.
O, here is The lady that I sent for. Welcome, fair one! Is’t not a goodly presence?
Ah, here she is, The lady I asked for. Welcome, fair one! Isn’t she a lovely sight?
She’s a gallant lady.
She’s a fine lady.
She’s such a one, that, were I well assured Came of a gentle kind and noble stock, I’ld 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.
She’s exactly the kind of woman, if I were sure She came from a noble family, I’d consider no better match, and think myself truly fortunate to marry. Fair one, all the kindness that comes from generosity Is yours, here, where we have a king in need: If your skilled work and talents Can move him to answer you in any way, Your sacred healing will be rewarded As much as your heart desires.
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.
Sir, I will do Everything in my power to heal him, on the condition That only I and my companion maid Be allowed to come near him.
Come, let us leave her; And the gods make her prosperous!
Come, let us leave her; And may the gods make her successful!
Mark’d he your music?
Did he hear your music?
No, nor look’d on us.
No, nor even look at us.
See, she will speak to him.
Look, she’s going to speak to him.
Hail, sir! my lord, lend ear.
Hail, sir! my lord, listen to me.
Hum, ha!
Hmm, ah!
I am a maid, My lord, that ne’er before invited eyes, But have been gazed on like a comet: she speaks, My lord, that, may be, hath endured 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.
I’m a virgin, My lord, who has never been looked at by anyone, But have been stared at like a comet: she speaks, My lord, who may have suffered a sorrow That could be as great as yours, if both were fairly compared. Though cruel luck has harmed my situation, My ancestry came from people Who were as great as mighty kings: But time has erased my family’s name, And to the world and cruel fate Has bound me in servitude.
I will desist; But there is something glows upon my cheek, And whispers in mine ear, ’Go not till he speak.’
I’ll stop; But something burns on my cheek, And whispers in my ear, ’Don’t leave until he speaks.’
My fortunes--parentage--good parentage-- To equal mine!--was it not thus? what say you?
My fortunes--family--good family-- To match mine!--was it not like that? What do you say?
I said, my lord, if you did know my parentage, You would not do me violence.
I said, my lord, if you knew my family, You wouldn’t harm me.
I do think so. Pray you, turn your eyes upon me. You are like something that--What country-woman? Here of these shores?
I think so. Please, look at me. You’re like someone from--What country are you from? Are you from these shores?
No, nor of any shores: Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am No other than I appear.
No, not from any shores: But I was born in a way that was difficult, and am No different than I seem.
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-voiced; her eyes as jewel-like And cased 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?
I am full of sorrow, and will cry. My dear wife was like this maid, and my daughter Could have been just like her: my queen’s arched brows; Her height to the exact inch; as straight as a wand; As sweet-voiced as silver; her eyes as bright as jewels And dressed as richly; in movement another Juno; Who fills the ears she feeds, and makes them crave more, The more she speaks. Where do you live?
Where I am but a stranger: from the deck You may discern the place.
Where I am just a stranger: you can tell the place From the deck.
Where were you bred? And how achieved you these endowments, which You make more rich to owe?
Where were you raised? And how did you come to have these gifts, Which you make even richer by possessing them?
If I should tell my history, it would seem Like lies disdain’d in the reporting.
If I told you my story, it would seem Like lies rejected by those who hear it.
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 will believe thee, And make my senses credit thy relation To points that seem impossible; for thou look’st Like one I loved indeed. What were thy friends? Didst thou not say, when I did push thee back-- Which was when I perceived thee--that thou camest From good descending?
Please, speak: Falsehood can’t come from you; for you look As pure as Justice, and you seem like a palace For crowned Truth to live in: I will Believe you, And trust my senses to accept your story Even if it seems impossible; for you look Like someone I truly loved. Who were your people? Didn’t you say, when I pushed you away-- Which was when I first saw you--that you came From noble descent?
So indeed I did.
Yes, indeed, I did.
Report thy parentage. I think thou said’st Thou hadst been toss’d from wrong to injury, And that thou thought’st thy griefs might equal mine, If both were open’d.
Tell me about your family. I think you said You had been tossed from hardship to hardship, And that you thought your sufferings might match mine, If both were fully known.
Some such thing I said, and said no more but what my thoughts Did warrant me was likely.
Some of that I said, and nothing more than what I believed Was likely.
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.
Tell me your story; If what you’ve been through is even a tiny bit like What I’ve endured, you’re a strong man, and I Have suffered like a weak girl: yet you seem to be Like Patience, watching over the graves of kings, and smiling As if you’re making extreme sadness fade away. What happened to your friends? How did you lose them? What’s your name, my kind young woman? Please, tell me everything: come, sit with me.
My name is Marina.
My name is Marina.
O, I am mock’d, And thou by some incensed god sent hither To make the world to laugh at me.
Oh, you’re mocking me, And you were sent here by some angry god To make the world laugh at me.
Patience, good sir, Or here I’ll cease.
Please, be patient, sir, Or I’ll stop talking.
Nay, I’ll be patient. Thou little know’st how thou dost startle me, To call thyself Marina.
No, I’ll be patient. You have no idea how much you startle me, By calling yourself Marina.
The name Was given me by one that had some power, My father, and a king.
I was named By someone who had power, My father, and he was a king.
How! a king’s daughter? And call’d Marina?
What! A king’s daughter? And named Marina?
You said you would believe me; But, not to be a troubler of your peace, I will end here.
You said you would believe me; But, not wanting to trouble you, I’ll stop here.
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?
But are you human? Do you have a pulse? Are you not a fairy? Move! Alright; keep talking. Where were you born? And why are you called Marina?
Call’d Marina For I was born at sea.
I’m called Marina Because I was born at sea.
At sea! what mother?
At sea! What mother?
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.
My mother was the daughter of a king; She died the moment I was born, As my good nurse Lychorida has often Told me while crying.
O, stop there a little!
Oh, hold on for a moment!
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.
This is the strangest dream that sleep Has ever tricked foolish people with: this can’t be: My daughter is buried. Well, where did you grow up? I’ll listen to the rest of your story, And not interrupt you.
You scorn: believe me, ’twere best I did give o’er.
You’re mocking me: believe me, it would be better if I just stopped.
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?
I’ll believe you by every word Of what you say. But first, let me ask: How did you come to be here? Where were you born?
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 rescued me; Brought me to Mytilene. 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.
My father, the king, left me in Tarsus; Until the cruel Cleon, with his evil wife, Tried to kill me. And after they bribed A villain to do it, who almost succeeded, A group of pirates came and saved me; They brought me to Mytilene. But, good sir, Where do you want me to go? Why are you crying? Maybe, You think I’m lying: no, I swear it’s true; I am the daughter of King Pericles, If King Pericles is truly who he says he is.
Ho, Helicanus!
Hey, Helicanus!
Calls my lord?
What does my lord want?
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?
You are a wise and noble counselor, Very knowledgeable in general: tell me, if you can, Who this young woman is, or what’s going to happen, That has made me cry like this?
I know not; but Here is the regent, sir, of Mytilene Speaks nobly of her.
I don’t know; but Here is the ruler, sir, of Mytilene, Who speaks highly of her.
She would never tell Her parentage; being demanded that, She would sit still and weep.
She would never tell Who her parents were; when asked, she Would just sit quietly and cry.
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 beget’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.
Oh, Helicanus, strike me, honored sir; Hurt me, give me pain right now; Lest this flood of happiness overwhelming me Sweep away my mortal limits, And drown me in its sweetness. Oh, come here, You who gave birth to the one who gave birth to you; You who were born at sea, buried in Tarsus, And found at sea again! Oh, Helicanus, Kneel down and thank the gods as loudly As thunder sounds when it threatens us: this is Marina. What was your mother’s name? Just tell me that, For the truth can never be proven enough, Though doubts may never sleep.
First, sir, I pray, What is your title?
First, sir, please, What’s your title?
I am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now My drown’d queen’s name, as in the rest you said Thou hast been godlike perfect, The heir of kingdoms and another like To Pericles thy father.
I am Pericles of Tyre: but now tell me The name of my drowned queen, as you said You’ve been perfect like a god, The heir to kingdoms and someone like My father, King Pericles.
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.
Is it not enough for me to say My mother’s name was Thaisa? Thaisa was my mother, who died The moment I was born.
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?
Now, blessings on you! Rise; you are my child. Give me new clothes. Helicanus, my friend; She’s not dead in Tarsus, as she should have been, By the cruel Cleon: she’ll tell you everything; When you kneel, and prove with certainty That she’s your true princess. Who is this?
Sir, ’tis the governor of Mytilene, Who, hearing of your melancholy state, Did come to see you.
Sir, it’s the governor of Mytilene, Who, hearing of your sad condition, Came to visit you.
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?
I embrace you. Give me my robes. I’m overwhelmed by what I see. Oh heavens, bless my girl! But wait, what’s that music? Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him Over and over, point by point, for he still seems to doubt, How certain you are that you’re my daughter. But what’s that music?
My lord, I hear none.
My lord, I hear nothing.
None! The music of the spheres! List, my Marina.
Nothing! The music of the spheres! Listen, my Marina.
It is not good to cross him; give him way.
It’s not a good idea to oppose him; give him space.
Rarest sounds! Do ye not hear?
Amazing sounds! Don’t you hear them?
My lord, I hear.
My lord, I hear.
Most heavenly music! It nips me unto listening, and thick slumber Hangs upon mine eyes: let me rest.
Such heavenly music! It draws me in, and a heavy sleep Begins to fall on my eyes: let me rest.
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.
A pillow for his head: So, leave him to it. Well, my friends, If this turns out as I believe it will, I’ll remember you well.
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. Or perform my bidding, or thou livest in woe; Do it, and happy; by my silver bow! Awake, and tell thy dream.
My temple stands in Ephesus: go there, And make a sacrifice at my altar. There, when my maidens gather together, Before the people, tell them how you lost your wife at sea: Mourn your losses, along with your daughter’s, call And bring them to life again. Or do as I ask, or you will live in misery; Do it, and you’ll be happy; by my silver bow! Wake up, and tell your dream.
Celestial Dian, goddess argentine, I will obey thee. Helicanus!
Celestial Diana, silver-goddess, I will obey you. Helicanus!
Sir?
Sir?
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.
I was planning to go to Tarsus, to confront The unwelcoming Cleon; but I have Another task to do first: let’s head toward Ephesus And I’ll tell you why soon.
Shall we refresh us, sir, upon your shore, And give you gold for such provision As our intents will need?
Shall we rest here, sir, on your shore, And give you gold for the supplies That our needs require?
Sir, With all my heart; and, when you come ashore, I have another suit.
Sir, With all my heart; and, when you come ashore, I have another request.
You shall prevail, Were it to woo my daughter; for it seems You have been noble towards her.
You shall succeed, Even if it’s to ask for my daughter; because it seems You’ve been kind to her.
Sir, lend me your arm.
Sir, give me your arm.
Come, my Marina.
Come, my Marina.