Complete Plays, The

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Complete Plays, The Page 352

by William Shakespeare


  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 thee, 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. Boult’s returned.

  Re-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 father’s testament. There was a Spaniard’s mouth so watered, that he went to bed to her very description.

  Bawd

  We shall have him here to-morrow with his best ruff on.

  Boult

  To-night, to-night. 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 to-morrow.

  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 in the sun.

  Boult

  Well, if we had of every nation a traveller, we should lodge them with this sign.

  Bawd

  [To Marina] Pray you, come hither awhile. You have fortunes coming upon you. Mark me: you must seem to do that fearfully which you commit willingly, 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

  O, take her home, mistress, take her home: these blushes of hers must be quenched with some present practise.

  Bawd

  Thou sayest 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? Come, young one, I like the manner of your garments well.

  Boult

  Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet.

  Bawd

  Boult, spend thou that in the town: report what a sojourner we have; you’ll lose nothing by custom. When nature flamed this piece, she meant thee a good turn; therefore say what a paragon she is, and thou hast the harvest out of thine own report.

  Boult

  I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake the beds of eels as my giving out her beauty stir up the lewdly-inclined. I’ll bring home some to-night.

  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 us?

  Exeunt

  SCENE III. TARSUS. A ROOM IN CLEON’S HOUSE.

  Enter 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 look’d upon!

  Dionyza

  I think

  You’ll turn a child again.

  Cleon

  Were I chief lord of all this spacious world,

  I’ld give it to undo the deed. O lady,

  Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess

  To equal any single crown o’ the earth

  I’ the justice of compare! O villain Leonine!

  Whom thou hast poison’d too:

  If thou hadst drunk to him, ’t had been a kindness

  Becoming well thy fact: what canst thou say

  When noble Pericles shall demand his child?

  Dionyza

  That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,

  To foster it, nor 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 heavens, the gods

  Do like this worst.

  Dionyza

  Be one of those that think

  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 coward a spirit.

  Cleon

  To such proceeding

  Who ever 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 disdain 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

  Perform’d 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 finish’d, and her epitaphs

  In glittering golden characters express

  A general 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’s face,

  Seize with thine eagle’s talons.

  Dionyza

  You are like one that superstitiously

  Doth swear to the gods that winter kills the flies:

  But yet I know you’ll do as I advise.

  Exeunt

  Scene IV:

  Enter Gower, before the monument of Marina at Tarsus

  Gower

  Thus time we waste, and longest leagues make short;

  Sail seas in cockles, have an wish but for’t;

  Making, to take your imagination,

  From bourn to bourn, region to region.

  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 delight.

  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

  I desire to find him so, that I may worthily note him.

  Bawd

  Next, he’s the governor of this country, and a man whom I am bound to.

  Marina

  If he govern the country, you are bound to him indeed; but how honourable he is in that, I know not.

  Bawd

  Pray you, without any more virginal fencing, will you use him kindly? He will line your apron with gold.

  Marina

  What he will do graciously, I will thankfully receive.

  Lysimachus

  Ha’ you done?

  Bawd

  My lord, she’s not paced yet: you must take some pains to work her to your manage. Come, we will leave his honour and her together. Go thy ways.

  Exeunt Bawd, Pandar, and Boult

  Lysimachus

  Now, pretty one, how long have you been at this trade?

  Marina

  What trade, sir?

  Lysimachus

  Why, I cannot name’t but I shall offend.

  Marina

  I cannot be offended with my trade. Please you to name it.

  Lysimachus

  How long have you been of this profession?

  Marina

  E’er since I can remember.

  Lysimachus

  Did you go to ’t so young? Were you a gamester at five or at seven?

  Marina

  Earlier too, sir, if now I be one.

  Lysimachus

  Why, the house you dwell in proclaims you to be a creature of sale.

  Marina

  Do you know this house to be a place of such resort, and will come into ’t? I hear
say you are of honourable parts, and are the governor of this place.

  Lysimachus

  Why, hath your principal made known unto you who I am?

  Marina

  Who is my principal?

  Lysimachus

  Why, your herb-woman; she that sets seeds and roots of shame and iniquity. O, you have heard something of my power, and so stand aloof for more serious wooing. But I protest to thee, pretty one, my authority shall not see thee, or else look friendly upon thee. Come, bring me to some private place: come, come.

  Marina

  If you were born to honour, show it now;

  If put upon you, make the judgment good

  That thought you worthy of it.

  Lysimachus

  How’s this? how’s this? Some more; be sage.

  Marina

  For me,

  That am a maid, though most ungentle fortune

  Have placed me in this sty, where, since I came,

  Diseases have been sold dearer than physic,

  O, that the gods

  Would set me free from this unhallow’d place,

  Though they did change me to the meanest bird

  That flies i’ the purer air!

  Lysimachus

  I did not think

  Thou couldst have spoke so well; ne’er dream’d thou couldst.

  Had I brought hither a corrupted mind,

  Thy speech had alter’d it. Hold, here’s gold for thee:

  Persever in that clear way thou goest,

  And the gods strengthen thee!

  Marina

  The good gods preserve you!

  Lysimachus

  For me, be you thoughten

  That I came with no ill intent; for to me

  The very doors and windows savour vilely.

  Fare thee well. Thou art a piece of virtue, and

  I doubt not but thy training hath been noble.

  Hold, here’s more gold for thee.

  A curse upon him, die he like a thief,

  That robs thee of thy goodness! If thou dost

  Hear from me, it shall be for thy good.

  Re-enter Boult

  Boult

  I beseech your honour, one piece for me.

  Lysimachus

  Avaunt, thou damned door-keeper!

  Your house, but for this virgin that doth prop it,

  Would sink and overwhelm you. Away!

  Exit

  Boult

  How’s this? We must take another course with you. If your peevish chastity, which is not worth a breakfast in the cheapest country under the cope, shall undo a whole household, let me be gelded like a spaniel. Come your ways.

  Marina

  Whither would you have me?

  Boult

  I must have your maidenhead taken off, or the common hangman shall execute it. Come your ways. We’ll have no more gentlemen driven away. Come your ways, I say.

  Re-enter Bawd

  Bawd

 

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