Lys. Mark'd he your music?

Mar.

No, nor look'd on us.

Lys. See, she will speak to him.

Mar. Hail, sir! my lord, lend ear.

Per. Hum! ha!

Mar. I am a maid,

My lord, that ne'er before invited eyes,

But have been gaz'd on like a comet: she speaks,
My lord, that may be, hath endur'd 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 will desist:

But there is something glows upon my cheek,

founded upon "Pericles," the following is what is sung by Marina on the occasion; and, excepting in the omission of a concluding couplet,

"He will not let, in care and thought,

You still to live, and all for nought,"

which is not in the same measure as the rest, it agrees very nearly with the version of the words in the Gesta Romanorum, translated by Twine, and quoted by Malone :

"Amongst the harlots foul I walk,

Yet harlot none am I :

The rose among the thorns it grows,
And is not hurt thereby.

"The thief that stole me, sure I think,
Is slain before this time.

A bawd me bought, yet am I not
Defil'd by fleshly crime.

"Were nothing pleasanter to me
Than parents mine to know:
I am the issue of a king ;

My blood from kings doth flow.

"I hope that God will mend my state,

And send a better day.

Leave off your tears, pluck up your heart,

And banish care away.

"Show gladness in your countenance,

Cast up your cheerful eyes :

That God remains that once of nought

Created earth and skies."

And whispers in mine ear, “Go not till he speak."
Per. My fortunes-parentage-good parentage—
To equal mine!-was it not thus? what say you?
Mar. I said, my lord, if you did know my parentage,
You would not do me violence.

Per

I do think so.

I pray you, turn your eyes again upon me.-
You are like something that-What countrywoman?
Here of these shores"?

Mar.

No, nor of any shores;
Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am
No other than I appear.

Per. 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-voic'd; her eyes as jewel-like,

And cas'd as richly in pace another Juno;

Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hun

gry,

The more she gives them speech. Where do you

live?

Mar. Where I am but a stranger: from the deck You may discern the place.

Per.

And how achiev'd you these endowments, which
You make more rich to owe.

Mar.

Where were you bred?

Should I tell my history,

"Twould seem like lies, disdain'd in the reporting.

Per. Pr'ythee, speak:

Falseness cannot come from thee, for thou look'st
Modest as justice, and thou seem'st a palace

5 Here of these SHORES?] For "shores," both in this and the next line, the old copies read shews.

6 You make more rich to oWE?] i. e. to own. We have so frequently had "owe" for own or possess, that it is unnecessary to refer to instances.

For the crown'd truth to dwell in. I'll believe thee,
And make my senses credit thy relation,

To points that seem impossible; for thou look'st
Like one I lov'd indeed. What were thy friends?
Didst thou not say', when I did push thee back,
(Which was when I perceiv'd thee) that thou cam'st
From good descending?

Mar.

So indeed I did.

Per. Report thy parentage. I think thou saidst Thou hadst been toss'd from wrong to injury,

And that thou thought'st thy griefs might equal mine, If both were open'd.

Mar.

Some such thing

I said, and said no more but what my thoughts

Did warrant me was likely.

Per.
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?

virgin?

Thy name, my most kind

Recount, I do beseech thee. Come, sit by me.
Mar. My name is Marina.

Per.

O! I am mock'd,

And thou by some incensed god sent hither

To make the world to laugh at me,

Mar.

Or here I'll cease.

Per.

Patience, good sir,

Nay, I'll be patient.

Thou little know'st how thou dost startle me,

To call thyself Marina.

7 Didst thou not SAY,] All the old copies misprint," Didst thou not stay." How lost thou THEM?] Malone added "them" to the text, and it seems necessary.

VOL. VIII.

A a

Was given me by one that had some power;

My father, and a king.

Per.

And call'd Marina?

Mar.

How! a king's daughter?

You said you would believe me;

But, not to be a troubler of your peace,
I will end here.

Mar. 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.

Per.

O! stop there a little.

This is the rarest dream that e'er dull'd 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.

Mar. You scorn': believe me, 'twere best I did give o'er.

Per. 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?
Mar. The king, my father, did in Tharsus leave me,
Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,

9 At sea! what mother?] So the quarto, 1609, completing the line: later editions have "At sea! who was thy mother?" In the next line but one, modern editors have silently foisted very into the verse, though not found in a single ancient edition.

1 You SCORN :] So every old copy, and rightly, with reference to what Pericles has just said. Malone altered the text to "You'll scarce believe me,” &c., but quite unnecessarily.

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 Mitylene. 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.

Per. Ho, Helicanus!

Hel.

Calls my gracious lord?

Per. 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?

Hel.

I know not; but

Here is the regent, sir, of Mitylene,

Speaks nobly of her.

Lys.

She would never tell

Her parentage; being demanded that,

She would sit still and weep.

Per. 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 Tharsus,

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.

First, sir, I pray,

Per. I am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me, now,