Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 199 (всего у книги 250 страниц)

Sc. 12 Enter Lord Cerimon with a ⌈poor man and a⌉ servant

CERIMON

Philemon, ho!

Enter Philemon

PHILEMON Doth my lord call?

CERIMON

Get fire and meat for those poor men.

⌈Exit Philemon⌉

‘T’as been a turbulent and stormy night.

SERVANT

I have seen many, but such a night as this

Till now I ne’er endured.

CERIMON

Your master will be dead ere you return.

There’s nothing can be ministered in nature

That can recover him. ⌈To poor man⌉ Give this to th’

pothecary

And tell me how it works.

⌈Exeunt poor man and servant⌉

Enter two Gentlemen

FIRST GENTLEMAN Good morrow.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

Good morrow to your lordship.

CERIMON Gentlemen,

Why do you stir so early?

FIRST GENTLEMAN Sir,

Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea,

Shook as the earth did quake.

The very principals did seem to rend

And all to topple. Pure surprise and fear

Made me to quit the house.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

That is the cause we trouble you so early;

’Tis not our husbandry.

CERIMON O, you say well.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

But I much marvel that your lordship should,

Having rich tire about you, at this hour

Shake off the golden slumber of repose. ’Tis most

strange,

Nature to be so conversant with pain,

Being thereto not compelled.

CERIMON I held it ever

Virtue and cunning were endowments greater

Than nobleness and riches. Careless heirs

May the two latter darken and dispend,

But immortality attends the former,

Making a man a god. ‘Tis known I ever

Have studied physic, through which secret art,

By turning o’er authorities, I have,

Together with my practice, made familiar

To me and to my aid the blest infusions

That dwells in vegetives, in metals, stones,

And so can speak of the disturbances

That nature works, and of her cures, which doth

give me

A more content and cause of true delight

Than to be thirsty after tott’ring honour,

Or tie my pleasure up in silken bags

To glad the fool and death.

SECOND GENTLEMAN Your honour has

Through Ephesus poured forth your charity,

And hundreds call themselves your creatures who by

you

Have been restored. And not alone your knowledge,

Your personal pain, but e’en your purse still open

Hath built Lord Cerimon such strong renown

As time shall never—

Enter ⌈Philemon and one or⌉ two with a chest

⌈PHILEMON⌉ So, lift there.

CERIMON What’s that? ⌈PHILEMON⌉ Sir, even now

The sea tossed up upon our shore this chest.

’Tis off some wreck.

CERIMON Set’t down. Let’s look upon’t.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

’Tis like a coffin, sir.

CERIMON Whate’er it be,

’Tis wondrous heavy.—Did the sea cast it up?

⌈PHILEMON⌉

I never saw so huge a billow, sir,

Or a more eager.

CERIMON Wrench it open straight.

The others start to work

If the sea’s stomach be o‘ercharged with gold

’Tis by a good constraint of queasy fortune

It belches upon us.

SECOND GENTLEMAN ’Tis so, my lord.

CERIMON

How close ’tis caulked and bitumed!

⌈They force the lid⌉

Soft, it smells

Most sweetly in my sense.

SECOND GENTLEMAN A delicate odour.

CERIMON

As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it.

They take the lid off

O you most potent gods! What’s here—a corpse?

SECOND GENTLEMAN

Most strange.

CERIMON Shrouded in cloth of state, and crowned,

Balmed and entreasured with full bags of spices.

A passport, too!

He takes a paper from the chest

Apollo perfect me i’th’ characters.

‘Here I give to understand,

If e’er this coffin drives a-land,

I, King Pericles, have lost

This queen worth all our mundane cost.

Who finds her, give her burying;

She was the daughter of a king.

Besides this treasure for a fee,

The gods requite his charity.’

If thou liv’st, Pericles, thou hast a heart

That even cracks for woe. This chanced tonight.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

Most likely, sir.

CERIMON Nay, certainly tonight,

For look how fresh she looks. They were too rash

That threw her in the sea. Make a fire within.

Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet. ⌈Exit Philemon⌉

Death may usurp on nature many hours,

And yet the fire of life kindle again

The o’erpressed spirits. I have heard

Of an Egyptian nine hours dead

Who was by good appliances recovered.

Enter ⌈Philemon⌉ with napkins and fire

Well said, well said, the fire and cloths.

The still and woeful music that we have,

Cause it to sound, beseech you.

Music

The vial once more.

How thou stirr‘st, thou block! The music there!

I pray you give her air. Gentlemen,

This queen will live. Nature awakes, a warmth

Breathes out of her. She hath not been entranced

Above five hours. See how she ’gins to blow

Into life’s flow’r again.

FIRST GENTLEMAN The heavens

Through you increase our wonder, and set up

Your fame for ever.

CERIMON She is alive. Behold,

Her eyelids, cases to those heav’nly jewels

Which Pericles hath lost,

Begin to part their fringes of bright gold.

The diamonds of a most praised water

Doth appear to make the world twice rich.—Live,

And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,

Rare as you seem to be.

She moves

THAISA O dear Diana,

Where am I? Where’s my lord? What world is this?

SECOND GENTLEMAN

Is not this strange?

FIRST GENTLEMAN Most rare.

CERIMON Hush, gentle neighbours. Lend me your hands. To the next chamber bear her. Get linen. Now this matter must be looked to, For her relapse is mortal. Come, come, And Aesculapius guide us. They carry her away. Exeunt

Sc. 13 Enter Pericles at Tarsus, with Cleon and Dionyza, and Lychorida with a babe

PERICLES

Most honoured Cleon, I must needs be gone.

My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands

In a litigious peace. You and your lady

Take from my heart all thankfulness. The gods

Make up the rest upon you!

CLEON Your strokes of fortune, Though they hurt you mortally, yet glance Full woundingly on us.

DIONYZA O your sweet queen!

That the strict fates had pleased you’d brought her

hither

T’have blessed mine eyes with her!

PERICLES

We cannot but obey

The pow‘rs above us. Should I rage and roar

As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end

Must be as ’tis. My gentle babe Marina,

Whom for she was born at sea I have named so,

Here I charge your charity withal, and leave her

The infant of your care, beseeching you

To give her princely training, that she may be

Mannered as she is born.

CLEON Fear not, my lord, but think

Your grace, that fed my country with your corn—

For which the people’s pray’rs still fall upon you—

Must in your child be thought on. If neglection

Should therein make me vile, the common body

By you relieved would force me to my duty.

But if to that my nature need a spur,

The gods revenge it upon me and mine

To th’ end of generation.

PERICLES I believe you.

Your honour and your goodness teach me to’t

Without your vows.—Till she be married, madam,

By bright Diana, whom we honour all,

Unscissored shall this hair of mine remain,

Though I show ill in’t. So I take my leave.

Good madam, make me blessed in your care

In bringing up my child.

DIONYZA I have one myself,

Who shall not be more dear to my respect

Than yours, my lord.

PERICLES Madam, my thanks and prayers.

CLEON

We’ll bring your grace e‘en to the edge o’th’ shore,

Then give you up to th’ masted Neptune and

The gentlest winds of heaven.

PERICLES

I will embrace your offer.—Come, dear’st madam.—

O, no tears, Lychorida, no tears.

Look to your little mistress, on whose grace

You may depend hereafter.—Come, my lord. Exeunt

Sc. 14 Enter Cerimon and Thaisa

CERIMON

Madam, this letter and some certain jewels

Lay with you in your coffer, which are all

At your command. Know you the character?

THAISA

It is my lord’s. That I was shipped at sea

I well remember, ev’n on my eaning time,

But whether there delivered, by th’ holy gods

I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles,

My wedded lord, I ne‘er shall see again,

A vestal liv’ry will I take me to,

And never more have joy.

CERIMON

Madam, if this you purpose as ye speak,

Diana’s temple is not distant far,

Where till your date expire you may abide.

Moreover, if you please a niece of mine

Shall there attend you.

THAISA

My recompense is thanks, that’s all,

Yet my good will is great, though the gift small. Exeunt

Sc. 15 Enter Gower

GOWER

Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre,

Welcomed and settled to his own desire.

His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,

Unto Diana there ’s a votaress.

Now to Marina bend your mind,

Whom our fast-growing scene must find

At Tarsus, and by Cleon trained

In music, letters; who hath gained

Of education all the grace,

Which makes her both the heart and place

Of gen‘ral wonder. But, alack,

That monster envy, oft the wrack

Of earned praise, Marina’s life

Seeks to take off by treason’s knife,

And in this kind our Cleon has

One daughter, and a full-grown lass

E’en ripe for marriage-rite. This maid

Hight Philoten, and it is said

For certain in our story she

Would ever with Marina be,

Be’t when they weaved the sleided silk

With fingers long, small, white as milk;

Or when she would with sharp nee‘le wound

The cambric which she made more sound

By hurting it, or when to th’ lute

She sung, and made the night bird mute,

That still records with moan; or when

She would with rich and constant pen

Vail to her mistress Dian. Still

This Philoten contends in skill

With absolute Marina; so

With dove of Paphos might the crow

Vie feathers white. Marina gets

All praises which are paid as debts,

And not as given. This so darks

In Philoten all graceful marks

That Cleon’s wife with envy rare

A present murder does prepare

For good Marina, that her daughter

Might stand peerless by this slaughter.

The sooner her vile thoughts to stead

Lychorida, our nurse, is dead,

⌈A tomb is revealed⌉

And cursed Dionyza hath

The pregnant instrument of wrath

Pressed for this blow. Th’unborn event

I do commend to your content,

Only I carry winged Time

Post on the lame feet of my rhyme,

Which never could I so convey

Unless your thoughts went on my way.

⌈Enter Dionyza with Leonine⌉

Dionyza does appear,

With Leonine, a murderer. Exit

DIONYZA

Thy oath remember. Thou hast sworn to do’t.

‘Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.

Thou canst not do a thing i’th’ world so soon

To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience,

Which is but cold, or fanning love thy bosom

Unflame too nicely, nor let pity, which

E’en women have cast off, melt thee; but be

A soldier to thy purpose.

LEONINE I will do’t;

But yet she is a goodly creature.

DIONYZA

The fitter then the gods should have her.

Enter Marina ⌈to the tomb⌉ with a basket of flowers

Here she comes, weeping her only nurse’s death.

Thou art resolved.

LEONINE I am resolved.

MARINA

No, I will rob Tellus of her weed

To strew thy grave with flow’rs. The yellows, blues,

The purple violets and marigolds

Shall as a carpet hang upon thy tomb

While summer days doth last. Ay me, poor maid,

Born in a tempest when my mother died,

This world to me is but a ceaseless storm

Whirring me from my friends.

DIONYZA

How now, Marina, why do you keep alone?

How chance my daughter is not with you?

Do not consume your blood with sorrowing.

Have you a nurse of me. Lord, how your favour

Is changed with this unprofitable woe!

Give me your flowers. Come, o’er the sea margin

Walk with Leonine. The air is piercing there,

And quick; it sharps the stomach. Come, Leonine,

Take her by th’ arm. Walk with her.

MARINA No, I pray you,

I’ll not bereave you of your servant.

DIONYZA Come, come,

I love the King your father and yourself

With more than foreign heart. We ev’ry day

Expect him here. When he shall come and find

Our paragon to all reports thus blasted,

He will repent the breadth of his great voyage,

Blame both my lord and me, that we have taken

No care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,

Walk and be cheerful once again; resume

That excellent complexion which did steal

The eyes of young and old. Care not for me.

I can go home alone.

MARINA Well, I will go,

But truly I have no desire to it.

DIONYZA

Nay, I know ’tis good for you. Walk half an hour,

Leonine, at the least; remember

What I have said.

LEONINE I warr’nt you, madam.

DIONYZA (to Marina)

I’ll leave you, my sweet lady, for a while.

Pray you walk softly, do not heat your blood.

What, I must have care of you!

MARINA My thanks, sweet madam.

Exit Dionyza

Is this wind westerly that blows?

LEONINE South-west.

MARINA

When I was born the wind was north.

LEONINE Was’t SO? MARINA

My father, as nurse says, did never fear,

But cried ’Good seamen’ to the mariners,

Galling his kingly hands with haling ropes,

And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea

That almost burst the deck.

LEONINE When was this?

MARINA When I was born.

Never was waves nor wind more violent.

Once from the ladder tackle washes off

A canvas-climber. ‘Ha!’ says one, ‘wolt out?’

And with a dropping industry they skip

From stem to stern. The boatswain whistles, and

The master calls and trebles their confusion.

LEONINE Come, say your prayers.

MARINA What mean you?

LEONINE

If you require a little space for prayer

I grant it. Pray, but be not tedious.

The gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn

To do my work with haste.

MARINA Why would you kill me?

LEONINE

To satisfy my lady.

MARINA

Why would she have me killed? Now, as I can remember, by my troth

I never did her hurt in all my life.

I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn

To any living creature. Believe me, la.

I never killed a mouse nor hurt a fly.

I trod once on a worm against my will,

But I wept for it. How have I offended

Wherein my death might yield her any profit

Or my life imply her danger?

LEONINE My commission

Is not to reason of the deed, but do’t.

MARINA

You will not do’t for all the world, I hope.

You are well favoured, and your looks foreshow

You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately

When you caught hurt in parting two that fought.

Good sooth, it showed well in you. Do so now.

Your lady seeks my life. Come you between,

And save poor me, the weaker.

LEONINE ⌈drawing out his sword⌉ I am sworn,

And will dispatch.

Enter Pirates ⌈running⌉

FIRST PIRATE Hold, villain.

Leonine runs away ⌈and hides behind the tomb⌉

SECOND PIRATE A prize, a prize.

THIRD PIRATE Half-part, mates, half-part. Come, let’s have her aboard suddenly.

Exeunt Pirates ⌈carrying⌉ Marina

Leonine ⌈steals back⌉

LEONINE

These roguing thieves serve the great pirate Valdes.

An they have seized Marina, let her go.

There’s no hope she’ll return. I’ll swear she’s dead

And thrown into the sea; but I’ll see further.

Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her,

Not carry her aboard. If she remain,

Whom they have ravished must by me be slain.

Exit. ⌈The tomb is concealed⌉

Sc. 16 ⌈A brothel sign.] Enter the Pander, his wife the Bawd, and their man Boult

PANDER Boult.

BOULT Sir.

PANDER Search the market narrowly. Mytilene is full of gallants. We lose too much money this mart by being wenchless.

BAWD We were never so much out of creatures. We have but poor three, and they can do no more than they can do, and they with continual action are even as good as rotten.

PANDER Therefore let’s have fresh ones, whate’er we pay for them. If there be not a conscience to be used in every trade, we shall never prosper.

BAWD Thou sayst true. ’Tis not our bringing up of poor bastards—as I think I have brought up some eleven—

BOULT Ay, to eleven, and brought them down again. But shall I search the market?

BAWD What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong wind will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully sodden.

PANDER Thou sayst true. They’re too unwholesome, o’ conscience. The poor Transylvanian is dead that lay with the little baggage.

BOULT Ay, she quickly pooped him, she made him roast meat for worms. But I’ll go search the market. Exit

PANDER Three or four thousand chequins were as pretty a proportion to live quietly, and so give over.

BAWD Why to give over, I pray you? Is it a shame to get when we are old?

PANDER O, our credit comes not in like the commodity, nor the commodity wages not with the danger. Therefore if in our youths we could pick up some pretty estate, ‘twere not amiss to keep our door hatched. Besides, the sore terms we stand upon with the gods will be strong with us for giving o’er.

BAWD Come, other sorts offend as well as we. PANDER As well as we? Ay, and better too; we offend worse. Neither is our profession any mystery, it’s no calling. But here comes Boult.

Enter Boult with the Pirates and Marina

BOULT ⌈to the Pirates⌉ Come your ways, my masters, you say she’s a virgin?

A PIRATE O sir, we doubt it not.

BOULT (to Pander) Master, I have gone through for this piece you see. If you like her, so; if not, I have lost my earnest.

BAWD Boult, has she any qualities?

BOULT She has a good face, speaks well, and has excellent good clothes. There’s no farther necessity of qualities can make her be refused.

BAWD What’s her price, Boult?

BOULT I cannot be bated one doit of a hundred sesterces.

PANDER (to Pirates) Well, follow me, my masters. You shall have your money presently. (To Bawd) Wife, take her in, instruct her what she has to do, that she may not be raw in her entertainment.

Exeunt Pander and Pirates

BAWD Boult, take you the marks of her, the colour of her hair, complexion, height, her age, with warrant of her virginity, and cry ‘He that will give most shall have her first.’ Such a maidenhead were no cheap thing if men were as they have been. Get this done as I command you.

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⌉