William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (490 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare

BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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BOULT Performance shall follow.
Exit
MARINA
Alack that Leonine was so slack, so slow.
He should have struck, not spoke; or that these pirates,
Not enough barbarous, had but o’erboard thrown me
To seek my mother.
BAWD Why lament you, pretty one?
MARINA That I am pretty.
BAWD Come, the gods have done their part in you.
MARINA I accuse them not.
BAWD You are light into my hands, where you are like to live.
MARINA The more my fault
To scape his hands where I was like to die.
BAWD Ay, and you shall live in pleasure.
MARINA No.
BAWD Yes, indeed shall you, and taste gentlemen of all fashions. You shall fare well. You shall have the difference of all complexions. What, do you stop your ears?
MARINA Are you a woman?
BAWD What would you have me be an I be not a woman?
MARINA
An honest woman, or not a woman.
BAWD Marry, whip the gosling! I think I shall have something to do with you. Come, you’re a young foolish sapling, and must be bowed as I would have you.
MARINA The gods defend me!
BAWD If it please the gods to defend you by men, then men must comfort you, men must feed you, men must stir you up.
Enter Boult
 
Now, sir, hast thou cried her through the market? BOULT I have cried her almost to the number of her hairs.
I have drawn her picture with my voice.
BAWD And I prithee tell me, how dost thou find the inclination of the people, especially of the younger sort?
BOULT Faith, they listened to me as they would have hearkened to their fathers’ testament. There was a Spaniard’s mouth watered as he went to bed to her very description.
BAWD We shall have him here tomorrow with his best ruff on.
BOULT Tonight, tonight. But mistress, do you know the French knight that cowers i’ the hams?
BAWD Who, Monsieur Veroles?
BOULT Ay, he. He offered to cut a caper at the proclamation, but he made a groan at it, and swore he would see her tomorrow.
BAWD Well, well, as for him, he brought his disease hither. Here he does but repair it. I know he will come in our shadow to scatter his crowns of the sun.
BOULT Well, if we had of every nation a traveller, we should lodge them all with this sign.
BAWD (
to Marina
) Pray you, come hither a while. You have fortunes coming upon you. Mark me, you must seem to do that fearfully which you commit willingly, to despise profit where you have most gain. To weep that you live as ye do makes pity in your lovers. Seldom but that pity begets you a good opinion, and that opinion a mere profit.
MARINA I understand you not.
BOULT (
to Bawd
) O, take her home, mistress, take her home. These blushes of hers must be quenched with some present practice.
BAWD Thou sayst true, i’faith, so they must, for your bride goes to that with shame which is her way to go with warrant.
BOULT Faith, some do and some do not. But mistress, if I have bargained for the joint—
BAWD Thou mayst cut a morsel off the spit.
BOULT I may so.
BAWD Who should deny it? (
To Marina
) Come, young one, I like the manner of your garments well.
BOULT Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet.
BAWD (
giving him money
) Boult, spend thou that in the town. Report what a sojourner we have. You’ll lose nothing by custom. When nature framed this piece she meant thee a good turn. Therefore say what a paragon she is, and thou reapest the harvest out of thine own setting forth.
BOULT I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake the beds of eels as my giving out her beauty stirs up the lewdly inclined. I’ll bring home some tonight.

Exit

 
BAWD Come your ways, follow me.
MARINA
If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep,
Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.
Diana aid my purpose.
BAWD What have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with me?
Exeunt
. ⌈
The sign is removed

 
Sc. 17
Enter ⌈
in mourning garments

Cleon and Dionyza
DIONYZA
 
Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone?
CLEON
O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter
The sun and moon ne’er looked upon.
DIONYZA
I think you’ll turn a child again.
CLEON
Were I chief lord of all this spacious world
I’d give it to undo the deed. A lady
Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess
To equal any single crown o‘th’ earth
I’th’ justice of compare. O villain Leonine,
Whom thou hast poisoned too,
If thou hadst drunk to him ‘t’ad been a kindness
Becoming well thy fact. What canst thou say
When noble Pericles demands his child?
DIONYZA
That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates.
To foster is not ever to preserve.
She died at night. I’ll say so. Who can cross it,
Unless you play the pious innocent
And, for an honest attribute, cry out
‘She died by foul play.’
CLEON O, go to. Well, well,
Of all the faults beneath the heav’ns the gods
Do like this worst.
DIONYZA Be one of those that thinks
The petty wrens of Tarsus will fly hence
And open this to Pericles. I do shame
To think of what a noble strain you are,
And of how cowed a spirit.
CLEON To such proceeding
Whoever but his approbation added,
Though not his prime consent, he did not flow
From honourable sources.
DIONYZA Be it so, then.
Yet none does know but you how she came dead,
Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.
She did distain my child, and stood between
Her and her fortunes. None would look on her,
But cast their gazes on Marina’s face
Whilst ours was blurted at, and held a malkin
Not worth the time of day. It pierced me through,
And though you call my course unnatural,
You not your child well loving, yet I find
It greets me as an enterprise of kindness
Performed to your sole daughter.
CLEON Heavens forgive it.
DIONYZA And as for Pericles,
What should he say? We wept after her hearse,
And yet we mourn. Her monument
Is almost finished, and her epitaphs
In glitt‘ring golden characters express
A gen’ral praise to her and care in us,
At whose expense ’tis done.
CLEON Thou art like the harpy, Which, to betray, dost, with thine angel face, Seize in thine eagle talons.
DIONYZA
Ye’re like one that superstitiously
Do swear to th’ gods that winter kills the flies,
But yet I know you’ll do as I advise.
Exeunt
Sc. 18
Enter Gower
 
GOWER
Thus time we waste, and long leagues make we short,
Sail seas in cockles, have and wish but for‘t,
Making to take imagination
From bourn to bourn, region to region.
By you being pardoned, we commit no crime
To use one language in each sev’ral clime
Where our scene seems to live. I do beseech you
To learn of me, who stand i’th’ 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 delight.
Old Helicanus goes along. Behind
Is left to govern, if you bear in mind,
Old Aeschines, whom Helicanus late
Advanced in Tyre to great and high estate.
Well sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought
This king to Tarsus—think his pilot thought;
So with his steerage shall your thoughts go on—
To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.
Like motes and shadows see them move a while;
Your ears unto your eyes I’ll reconcile.
Dumb show.
Enter Pericles at one door with all his train, Cleon
and Dionyza

in mourning garments

at the other.
Cleon

draws the curtain and

shows Pericles the
tomb, whereat Pericles makes lamentation, puts on
sack-cloth, and in a mighty passion departs,
followed by his train. Cleon and Dionyza depart at
the other door
 
See how belief may suffer by foul show.
This borrowed passion stands for true-owed woe,
And Pericles, in sorrow all devoured,
With sighs shot through, and biggest tears o‘ershow’red,
Leaves Tarsus, and again embarks. He swears
Never to wash his face nor cut his hairs.
He puts on sack-cloth, 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.
He reads Marina’s epitaph on the tomb
‘The fairest, sweetest, best lies here,
Who withered in her spring of year.
In nature’s garden, though by growth a bud,
She was the chiefest flower: she was good.’
 
 
No visor does become black villainy
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
Sc. 19

A brothel sign.
⌉ Enter 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 anything now that is virtuous, but I am out of the road of rutting for ever.
Exeunt
Enter Pander, Bawd, and Boult
 
PANDER 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 the whole of 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 cavalleria and make our swearers priests.
PANDER 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.
Enter Lysimachus, disguised
 
Here comes the Lord Lysimachus, disguised.
BOULT We should have both lord and loon if the peevish baggage would but give way to custom.
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 woutd—but there never came her like in Mytilene.
LYSIMACHUS If she’d do the deed of darkness, thou wouldst say.
BAWD Your honour knows what ’tis to say well enough. LYSIMACHUS Well, call forth, call forth. ⌈
Exit Pander
⌉ 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 noble to be chaste.

Enter Pander with Marina

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