I am to pray you not to strain my speech


My speech should fall into such vile success


As my thoughts aim not at. Cassios my worthy friend--


Long live she so! and long live you to think so!


And yet, how nature erring from itself,--


Ay, theres the point: as--to be bold with you--


Of her own clime, complexion, and degree,


Whereto we see in all things nature tends--


Foh! one may smell in such a will most rank,


Distinctly speak of her; though I may fear


Her will, recoiling to her better judgment,


May fall to match you with her country forms


If more thou dost perceive, let me know more;


Set on thy wife to observe: leave me, Iago:


Why did I marry? This honest creature doubtless


Sees and knows more, much more, than he unfolds.


[Returning]  My lord, I would I might entreat


To scan this thing no further; leave it to time:


Though it be fit that Cassio have his place,


For sure, he fills it up with great ability,


Yet, if you please to hold him off awhile,


You shall by that perceive him and his means:


Note, if your lady strain his entertainment


With any strong or vehement importunity;


Much will be seen in that. In the mean time,


Let me be thought too busy in my fears--


And hold her free, I do beseech your honour.


And knows all qualities, with a learned spirit,


Of human dealings. If I do prove her haggard,


Though that her jesses were my dear heartstrings,


Ild whistle her off and let her down the wind,


To pray at fortune. Haply, for I am black


And have not those soft parts of conversation


That chamberers have, or for I am declined


Into the vale of years,--yet thats not much--


Must be to loathe her. O curse of marriage,


That we can call these delicate creatures ours,


And not their appetites! I had rather be a toad,


For others uses. Yet, tis the plague of great ones;


Prerogatived are they less than the base;


Even then this forked plague is fated to us


If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!


By you invited, do attend your presence.


Faith, thats with watching; twill away again:


Let me but bind it hard, within this hour


He puts the handkerchief from him; and it drops


This was her first remembrance from the Moor:


Wood me to steal it; but she so loves the token,


For he conjured her she should ever keep it,


To kiss and talk to. Ill have the work taen out,


Do not you chide; I have a thing for you.


O, is that all? What will you give me now


Why, that the Moor first gave to Desdemona;


That which so often you did bid me steal.


No, faith; she let it drop by negligence.


And, to the advantage, I, being here, tookt up.


What will you do with t, that you have been


If it be not for some purpose of import,


Givet me again: poor lady, shell run mad


I will in Cassios lodging lose this napkin,


And let him find it. Trifles light as air


As proofs of holy writ: this may do something.


The Moor already changes with my poison:


Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons.


Which at the first are scarce found to distaste,


Burn like the mines of Sulphur. I did say so:


Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep


Avaunt! be gone! thou hast set me on the rack:


What sense had I of her stoln hours of lust?


I sawt not, thought it not, it harmd not me:


I slept the next night well, was free and merry;


He that is robbd, not wanting what is stoln,


Let him not knowt, and hes not robbd at all.


Pioners and all, had tasted her sweet body,


So I had nothing known. O, now, for ever


Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!


Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,


Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,


The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife,


Pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious war!


And, O you mortal engines, whose rude throats


The immortal Joves dead clamours counterfeit,


Villain, be sure thou prove my love a whore,


Be sure of it; give me the ocular proof:


Thou hadst been better have been born a dog


Make me to seet; or, at the least, so prove it,


That the probation bear no hinge nor loop


To hang a doubt on; or woe upon thy life!


If thou dost slander her and torture me,


Do deeds to make heaven weep, all earth amazed;


Are you a man? have you a soul or sense?


God be wi you; take mine office. O wretched fool.


That livest to make thine honesty a vice!


O monstrous world! Take note, take note, O world,


I thank you for this profit; and from hence


Ill love no friend, sith love breeds such offence.


I think my wife be honest and think she is not;


I think that thou art just and think thou art not.


Ill have some proof. Her name, that was as fresh


As Dians visage, is now begrimed and black


As mine own face. If there be cords, or knives,


Poison, or fire, or suffocating streams,


Ill not endure it. Would I were satisfied!


I see, sir, you are eaten up with passion:


And may: but, how? how satisfied, my lord?


Would you, the supervisor, grossly gape on--


To bring them to that prospect: damn them then,


More than their own! What then? how then?


Were they as prime as goats, as hot as monkeys,


As salt as wolves in pride, and fools as gross


As ignorance made drunk. But yet, I say,


Which lead directly to the door of truth,


Will give you satisfaction, you may havet.


But, sith I am enterd in this cause so far,


And, being troubled with a raging tooth,


There are a kind of men so loose of soul,


That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs:


In sleep I heard him say Sweet Desdemona,


And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand,


Cry O sweet creature! and then kiss me hard,


That grew upon my lips: then laid his leg


Over my thigh, and sighd, and kissd; and then


Cried Cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!


Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream.


And this may help to thicken other proofs


Nay, but be wise: yet we see nothing done;


She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,


Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief


Spotted with strawberries in your wifes hand?


I gave her such a one; twas my first gift.


I know not that; but such a handkerchief--


I am sure it was your wifes--did I to-day


It speaks against her with the other proofs.


O, that the slave had forty thousand lives!


One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.


All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven.


Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell!


Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne


To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,


Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change.


Neer feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on


Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,


Shall neer look back, neer ebb to humble love,


Swallow them up. Now, by yond marble heaven,


To wrongd Othellos service! Let him command,


Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,


Within these three days let me hear thee say


My friend is dead; tis done at your request:


Come, go with me apart; I will withdraw,


To furnish me with some swift means of death


For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.


Do you know, sirrah, where Lieutenant Cassio lies?


Hes a soldier, and for one to say a soldier lies,


To tell you where he lodges, is to tell you where I lie.


I know not where he lodges, and for me to devise a


lodging and say he lies here or he lies there, were


Can you inquire him out, and be edified by report?


I will catechise the world for him; that is, make


Seek him, bid him come hither: tell him I have


moved my lord on his behalf, and hope all will be well.


To do this is within the compass of mans wit: and


Where should I lose that handkerchief, Emilia?


Believe me, I had rather have lost my purse


Full of crusadoes: and, but my noble Moor


Is true of mind and made of no such baseness


As jealous creatures are, it were enough


Who, he? I think the sun where he was born


Give me your hand: this hand is moist, my lady.


It yet hath felt no age nor known no sorrow.


This argues fruitfulness and liberal heart:


Hot, hot, and moist: this hand of yours requires


A sequester from liberty, fasting and prayer,


For heres a young and sweating devil here,


For twas that hand that gave away my heart.


A liberal hand: the hearts of old gave hands;


But our new heraldry is hands, not hearts.


I cannot speak of this. Come now, your promise.


I have sent to bid Cassio come speak with you.


I have a salt and sorry rheum offends me;


She was a charmer, and could almost read


The thoughts of people: she told her, while


Twould make her amiable and subdue my father


Entirely to her love, but if she lost it


Should hold her loathed and his spirits should hunt


After new fancies: she, dying, gave it me;


And bid me, when my fate would have me wive,


To give it her. I did so: and take heed ont;


Make it a darling like your precious eye;


To loset or givet away were such perdition


Tis true: theres magic in the web of it:


The sun to course two hundred compasses,


The worms were hallowd that did breed the silk;


And it was dyed in mummy which the skilful


Most veritable; therefore look tot well.


Then would to God that I had never seent!


Why do you speak so startingly and rash?


Fetch me the handkerchief: my mind misgives.


Hath founded his good fortunes on your love,


Sure, theres some wonder in this handkerchief:


They are all but stomachs, and we all but food;


To eat us hungerly, and when they are full,


They belch us. Look you, Cassio and my husband!


There is no other way; tis she must dot:


And, lo, the happiness! go, and importune her.


How now, good Cassio! whats the news with you?


That nor my service past, nor present sorrows,


So shall I clothe me in a forced content,


And shut myself up in some other course,


My lord is not my lord; nor should I know him,


And stood within the blank of his displeasure


For my free speech! you must awhile be patient:


Than for myself I dare: let that suffice you.


Can he be angry? I have seen the cannon,


When it hath blown his ranks into the air,


Puffd his own brother:--and can he be angry?


Something of moment then: I will go meet him:


Theres matter int indeed, if he be angry.


Either from Venice, or some unhatchd practise


Made demonstrable here in Cyprus to him,


Hath puddled his clear spirit: and in such cases


Mens natures wrangle with inferior things,


Though great ones are their object. Tis even so;


Our other healthful members even to that sense


Of pain: nay, we must think men are not gods,


As fit the bridal. Beshrew me much, Emilia,


But now I find I had subornd the witness,


Pray heaven it be state-matters, as you think,


But jealous souls will not be answerd so;


They are not ever jealous for the cause,


But jealous for they are jealous: tis a monster


Heaven keep that monster from Othellos mind!


I will go seek him. Cassio, walk hereabout:


If I do find him fit, Ill move your suit


How is it with you, my most fair Bianca?


I faith, sweet love, I was coming to your house.


And I was going to your lodging, Cassio.


What, keep a week away? seven days and nights?


Eight score eight hours? and lovers absent hours,


More tedious than the dial eight score times?


I have this while with leaden thoughts been pressd:


Strike off this score of absence. Sweet Bianca,


Throw your vile guesses in the devils teeth,


From whence you have them. You are jealous now


That this is from some mistress, some remembrance:


I know not, sweet: I found it in my chamber.


I like the work well: ere it be demanded--


As like enough it will--Ild have it copied:


Take it, and dot; and leave me for this time.


I pray you, bring me on the way a little,


And say if I shall see you soon at night.


Tis but a little way that I can bring you;


For I attend here: but Ill see you soon.


They that mean virtuously, and yet do so,


The devil their virtue tempts, and they tempt heaven.


Why, then, tis hers, my lord; and, being hers,


Her honour is an essence thats not seen;


By heaven, I would most gladly have forgot it.


As doth the raven oer the infected house,


If I had said I had seen him do you wrong?


Or heard him say,--as knaves be such abroad,


Who having, by their own importunate suit,


Convinced or supplied them, cannot choose


He hath, my lord; but be you well assured,


Faith, that he did--I know not what he did.


Lie with her! lie on her! We say lie on her, when


they belie her. Lie with her! thats fulsome.


confess, and be hanged for his labour;--first, to be


hanged, and then to confess.--I tremble at it.


Nature would not invest herself in such shadowing


passion without some instruction. It is not words


that shake me thus. Pish! Noses, ears, and lips.


My medicine, work! Thus credulous fools are caught;


And many worthy and chaste dames even thus,


All guiltless, meet reproach. What, ho! my lord!


This is his second fit; he had one yesterday.


The lethargy must have his quiet course:


Breaks out to savage madness. Look he stirs:


Do you withdraw yourself a little while,


He will recover straight: when he is gone,


I would on great occasion speak with you.


How is it, general? have you not hurt your head?


Would you would bear your fortune like a man!


Theres many a beast then in a populous city,


Think every bearded fellow thats but yoked


May draw with you: theres millions now alive


Which they dare swear peculiar: your case is better.


O, tis the spite of hell, the fiends arch-mock,


And to suppose her chaste! No, let me know;


And knowing what I am, I know what she shall be.


Whilst you were here oerwhelmed with your grief--


Bade him anon return and here speak with me;


The which he promised. Do but encave yourself,


And mark the fleers, the gibes, and notable scorns,


Where, how, how oft, how long ago, and when


He hath, and is again to cope your wife:


I say, but mark his gesture. Marry, patience;


Or I shall say you are all in all in spleen,


I will be found most cunning in my patience;


But yet keep time in all. Will you withdraw?


Buys herself bread and clothes: it is a creature


That dotes on Cassio; as tis the strumpets plague


He, when he hears of her, cannot refrain


From the excess of laughter. Here he comes:


As he shall smile, Othello shall go mad;


And his unbookish jealousy must construe


Poor Cassios smiles, gestures and light behavior,


Quite in the wrong. How do you now, lieutenant?


The worser that you give me the addition


Ply Desdemona well, and you are sure ont.


Alas, poor rogue! I think, i faith, she loves me.


Now he denies it faintly, and laughs it out.


To tell it oer: go to; well said, well said.


She gives it out that you shall marry hey:


I marry her! what? a customer! Prithee, bear some


charity to my wit: do not think it so unwholesome.


Faith, the cry goes that you shall marry her.


This is the monkeys own giving out: she is


persuaded I will marry her, out of her own love and


Iago beckons me; now he begins the story.


She was here even now; she haunts me in every place.


I was the other day talking on the sea-bank with


certain Venetians; and thither comes the bauble,


and, by this hand, she falls me thus about my neck--


Crying O dear Cassio! as it were: his gesture


So hangs, and lolls, and weeps upon me; so hales,


Now he tells how she plucked him to my chamber. O,


I see that nose of yours, but not that dog I shall


Tis such another fitchew! marry a perfumed one.


What do you mean by this haunting of me?


Let the devil and his dam haunt you! What did you


mean by that same handkerchief you gave me even now?


I was a fine fool to take it. I must take out the


work?--A likely piece of work, that you should find


it in your chamber, and not know who left it there!


This is some minxs token, and I must take out the


work? There; give it your hobby-horse: wheresoever


How now, my sweet Bianca! how now! how now!


By heaven, that should be my handkerchief!


An youll come to supper to-night, you may; an you


will not, come when you are next prepared for.


Faith, I must; shell rail in the street else.


Well, I may chance to see you; for I would very fain


[Advancing]  How shall I murder him, Iago?


Did you perceive how he laughed at his vice?


Yours by this hand: and to see how he prizes the


foolish woman your wife! she gave it him, and he


A fine woman! a fair woman! a sweet woman!


Ay, let her rot, and perish, and be damned to-night;


for she shall not live: no, my heart is turned to


stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand. O, the


world hath not a sweeter creature: she might lie by


Hang her! I do but say what she is: so delicate


with her needle: an admirable musician: O! she


will sing the savageness out of a bear: of so high


O, a thousand thousand times: and then, of so


Nay, thats certain: but yet the pity of it, Iago!


If you are so fond over her iniquity, give her


patent to offend; for, if it touch not you, it comes


I will chop her into messes: cuckold me!


Get me some poison, Iago; this night: Ill not


expostulate with her, lest her body and beauty


unprovide my mind again: this night, Iago.


Do it not with poison, strangle her in her bed, even


Good, good: the justice of it pleases: very good.


And for Cassio, let me be his undertaker: you


Something from Venice, sure. Tis Lodovico


Come from the duke: and, see, your wife is with him.


Enter LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants


The duke and senators of Venice greet you.


I kiss the instrument of their pleasures.


And whats the news, good cousin Lodovico?


I thank you. How does Lieutenant Cassio?


Cousin, theres falln between him and my lord


An unkind breach: but you shall make all well.


[Reads]  This fail you not to do, as you will--


Is there division twixt my lord and Cassio?


To atone them, for the love I bear to Cassio.


For, as I think, they do command him home,


My lord, this would not be believed in Venice,


Though I should swear I sawt: tis very much:


If that the earth could teem with womans tears,


Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.


I do beseech your lordship, call her back.


Ay; you did wish that I would make her turn:


Sir, she can turn, and turn, and yet go on,


And turn again; and she can weep, sir, weep;


And shes obedient, as you say, obedient,


Very obedient. Proceed you in your tears.


Concerning this, sir,--O  well-painted passion!--


Ill send for you anon. Sir, I obey the mandate,


And will return to Venice. Hence, avaunt!


Cassio shall have my place. And, sir, tonight,


You are welcome, sir, to Cyprus.--Goats and monkeys!


Is this the noble Moor whom our full senate


Call all in all sufficient? Is this the nature


Whom passion could not shake? whose solid virtue


The shot of accident, nor dart of chance,


Are his wits safe? is he not light of brain?


Hes that he is: I may not breathe my censure


What he might be: if what he might he is not,


Faith, that was not so well; yet would I knew


What I have seen and known. You shall observe him,


That I may save my speech: do but go after,


Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together.


But then I saw no harm, and then I heard


Each syllable that breath made up between them.


To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing?


I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest,


Lay down my soul at stake: if you think other,


Remove your thought; it doth abuse your bosom.


If any wretch have put this in your head,


Let heaven requite it with the serpents curse!


For, if she be not honest, chaste, and true,


Theres no man happy; the purest of their wives


That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore,


A closet lock and key of villanous secrets


And yet shell kneel and pray; I have seen her dot.


[To EMILIA]  Some of your function, mistress;


Leave procreants alone and shut the door;


Your mystery, your mystery: nay, dispatch.


Upon my knees, what doth your speech import?


Lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves


Should fear to seize thee: therefore be double damnd:


Heaven truly knows that thou art false as hell.


To whom, my lord? with whom? how am I false?


Am I the motive of these tears, my lord?


An instrument of this your calling back,


Lay not your blame on me: If you have lost him,


To try me with affliction; had they raind


All kinds of sores and shames on my bare head.


Given to captivity me and my utmost hopes,


I should have found in some place of my soul


A drop of patience: but, alas, to make me


Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:


But there, where I have garnerd up my heart,


Where either I must live, or bear no life;


The fountain from the which my current runs,


Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!


To knot and gender in! Turn thy complexion there,


Patience, thou young and rose-lippd cherubin,--


O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles,


That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed,


Who art so lovely fair and smellst so sweet


That the sense aches at thee, would thou hadst


Alas, what ignorant sin have I committed?


Was this fair paper, this most goodly book,


Made to write whore upon? What committed!


Did I but speak thy deeds. What committed!


Heaven stops the nose at it and the moon winks,


Is hushd within the hollow mine of earth,


I took you for that cunning whore of Venice


That have the office opposite to Saint Peter,


We have done our course; theres money for your pains:


I pray you, turn the key and keep our counsel.


Alas, what does this gentleman conceive?


How do you, madam? how do you, my good lady?


Good madam, whats the matter with my lord?


But what should go by water. Prithee, tonight


Lay on my bed my wedding sheets: remember;


Tis meet I should be used so, very meet.


How have I been behaved, that he might stick


I cannot tell. Those that do teach young babes


He might have chid me so; for, in good faith,


Alas, Iago, my lord hath so bewhored her.


Thrown such despite and heavy terms upon her,


He calld her whore: a beggar in his drink


Could not have laid such terms upon his callat.


I do not know; I am sure I am none such.


Her father and her country and her friends,


To be calld whore? would it not make one weep?


I will be hangd, if some eternal villain,


Some cogging, cozening slave, to get some office,


Have not devised this slander; Ill be hangd else.


Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible.


If any such there be, heaven pardon him!


A halter pardon him! and hell gnaw his bones!


Why should he call her whore? who keeps her company?


What place? what time? what form? what likelihood?


The Moors abused by some most villanous knave,


Some base notorious knave, some scurvy fellow.


O heaven, that such companions thouldst unfold,


To lash the rascals naked through the world


O, fie upon them! Some such squire he was


That turnd your wit the seamy side without,


And made you to suspect me with the Moor.


Good friend, go to him; for, by this light of heaven,


I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:


If eer my will did trespass gainst his love,


Either in discourse of thought or actual deed,


Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense,


And ever will--though he do shake me off


To beggarly divorcement--love him dearly,


Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much;


But never taint my love. I cannot say whore:


To do the act that might the addition earn


Not the worlds mass of vanity could make me.


I pray you, be content; tis but his humour:


The business of the state does him offence,


Hark, how these instruments summon to supper!


Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well.


I do not find that thou dealest justly with me.


Every day thou daffest me with some device, Iago;


and rather, as it seems to me now, keepest from me


all conveniency than suppliest me with the least


advantage of hope. I will indeed no longer endure


it, nor am I yet persuaded to put up in peace what


Faith, I have heard too much, for your words and


With nought but truth. I have wasted myself out of


my means. The jewels you have had from me to


deliver to Desdemona would half have corrupted a


votarist: you have told me she hath received them


and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden


respect and acquaintance, but I find none.


Very well! go to! I cannot go to, man; nor tis


not very well: nay, I think it is scurvy, and begin


I tell you tis not very well. I will make myself


known to Desdemona: if she will return me my


jewels, I will give over my suit and repent my


unlawful solicitation; if not, assure yourself I


Ay, and said nothing but what I protest intendment of doing.


Why, now I see theres mettle in thee, and even from


this instant to build on thee a better opinion than


ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo: thou hast


taken against me a most just exception; but yet, I


protest, I have dealt most directly in thy affair.


I grant indeed it hath not appeared, and your


suspicion is not without wit and judgment. But,


Roderigo, if thou hast that in thee indeed, which I


have greater reason to believe now than ever, I mean


purpose, courage and valour, this night show it: if


thou the next night following enjoy not Desdemona,


take me from this world with treachery and devise


Well, what is it? is it within reason and compass?


Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice


Is that true? why, then Othello and Desdemona


O, no; he goes into Mauritania and takes away with


him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be


lingered here by some accident: wherein none can be


so determinate as the removing of Cassio.


Why, by making him uncapable of Othellos place;


Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit and a right.


He sups to-night with a harlotry, and thither will I


go to him: he knows not yet of his horrorable


fortune. If you will watch his going thence, which


I will fashion to fall out between twelve and one,


you may take him at your pleasure: I will be near


to second your attempt, and he shall fall between


us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with


me; I will show you such a necessity in his death


that you shall think yourself bound to put it on


him. It is now high suppertime, and the night grows


Enter OTHELLO, LODOVICO, DESDEMONA, EMILIA and Attendants


I do beseech you, sir, trouble yourself no further.


Madam, good night; I humbly thank your ladyship.


Get you to bed on the instant; I will be returned


forthwith: dismiss your attendant there: look it be done.


Exeunt OTHELLO, LODOVICO, and Attendants


How goes it now? he looks gentler than he did.


It was his bidding: therefore, good Emilia,.


So would not Imy love doth so approve him,


That even his stubbornness, his cheques, his frowns--


Prithee, unpin me,--have grace and favour in them.


I have laid those sheets you bade me on the bed.


Alls one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds!


If I do die before thee prithee, shroud me


She was in love, and he she loved proved mad


And did forsake her: she had a song of willow;


An old thing twas, but it expressd her fortune,


And she died singing it: that song to-night


Will not go from my mind; I have much to do,


And sing it like poor Barbara. Prithee, dispatch.


I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot


to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip.


[Singing]  The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,


Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,


The fresh streams ran by her, and murmurd her moans;


Her salt tears fell from her, and softend the stones;


Sing all a green willow must be my garland.


Let nobody blame him; his scorn I approve,-


Nay, thats not next.--Hark! who ist that knocks?


[Singing]  I calld my love false love; but what


If I court moe women, youll couch with moe men!


So, get thee gone; good night Ate eyes do itch;


I have heard it said so. O, these men, these men!


Dost thou in conscience think,--tell me, Emilia,--


That there be women do abuse their husbands


Wouldst thou do such a deed for all the world?


The worlds a huge thing: it is a great price.


In troth, I think I should; and undot when I had


done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a


joint-ring, nor for measures of lawn, nor for


gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty


exhibition; but for the whole world,--why, who would


not make her husband a cuckold to make him a


monarch? I should venture purgatory fort.


Why the wrong is but a wrong i the world: and


having the world for your labour, tis a wrong in your


own world, and you might quickly make it right.


Yes, a dozen; and as many to the vantage as would


But I do think it is their husbands faults


If wives do fall: say that they slack their duties,


And pour our treasures into foreign laps,


Or else break out in peevish jealousies,


Throwing restraint upon us; or say they strike us,


Why, we have galls, and though we have some grace,


Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know


Their wives have sense like them: they see and smell


And have their palates both for sweet and sour,


As husbands have. What is it that they do


When they change us for others? Is it sport?


I think it is: and doth affection breed it?


I think it doth: ist frailty that thus errs?


It is so too: and have not we affections,


Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?


Then let them use us well: else let them know,


The ills we do, their ills instruct us so.


Good night, good night: heaven me such uses send,


Not to pick bad from bad, but by bad mend!


Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he come:


Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home:


Quick, quick; fear nothing; Ill be at thy elbow:


It makes us, or it mars us; think on that,


Here, at thy hand: be bold, and take thy stand.


And yet he hath given me satisfying reasons:


Tis but a man gone. Forth, my sword: he dies.


I have rubbd this young quat almost to the sense,


And he grows angry. Now, whether he kill Cassio,


Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other,


Of gold and jewels that I bobbd from him,


That makes me ugly; and, besides, the Moor


May unfold me to him; there stand I in much peril:


No, he must die. But so: I hear him coming.


I know his gait, tis he.--Villain, thou diest!


But that my coat is better than thou knowst


IAGO from behind wounds CASSIO in the leg, and exit


I am maimd for ever. Help, ho! murder! murder!


The voice of Cassio: Iago keeps his word.


That hast such noble sense of thy friends wrong!


Thou teachest me. Minion, your dear lies dead,


And your unblest fate hies: strumpet, I come.


Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted;


Thy bed, lust-staind, shall with lusts blood be spotted.


What, ho! no watch? no passage? murder! murder!


Tis some mischance; the cry is very direful.


Two or three groan: it is a heavy night:


These may be counterfeits: lets thinkt unsafe


To come in to the cry without more help.


Nobody come? then shall I bleed to death.


Heres one comes in his shirt, with light and weapons.


Whos there? whose noise is this that ones on murder?


What are you here that cry so grievously?


Iago? O, I am spoild, undone by villains!


O me, lieutenant! what villains have done this?


What are you there? come in, and give some help.


Kill men i the dark!--Where be these bloody thieves?--


How silent is this town!--Ho! murder! murder!--


What may you be? are you of good or evil?


I cry you mercy. Heres Cassio hurt by villains.


Light, gentlemen; Ill bind it with my shirt.


What is the matter, ho? who ist that cried?


O my dear Cassio! my sweet Cassio! O Cassio,


O notable strumpet! Cassio, may you suspect


Who they should be that have thus many led you?


I am to find you thus: I have been to seek you.


Alas, he faints! O Cassio, Cassio, Cassio!


Patience awhile, good Cassio. Come, come;


Lend me a light. Know we this face or no?


Roderigo! no:--yes, sure: O heaven! Roderigo.


Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle pardon;


These bloody accidents must excuse my manners,


How do you, Cassio? O, a chair, a chair!


Some good man bear him carefully from hence;


Save you your labour. He that lies slain


Was my dear friend: what malice was between you?


None in the world; nor do I know the man.


[To BIANCA]  What, look you pale? O, bear him out


Stay you, good gentlemen. Look you pale, mistress?


Do you perceive the gastness of her eye?


Nay, if you stare, we shall hear more anon.


Behold her well; I pray you, look upon her:


Do you see, gentlemen? nay, guiltiness will speak,


Las, whats the matter? whats the matter, husband?


Cassio hath here been set on in the dark


By Roderigo and fellows that are scaped:


Alas, good gentleman! alas, good Cassio!


This is the fruit of whoring. Prithee, Emilia,


Go know of Cassio where he suppd to-night.


He suppd at my house; but I therefore shake not.


Kind gentlemen, lets go see poor Cassio dressd.


Come, mistress, you must tells another tale.


And tell my lord and lady what hath happd.


That either makes me or fordoes me quite.


SCENE II. A bedchamber in the castle: DESDEMONA in bed asleep;


It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,--


Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!--


It is the cause. Yet Ill not shed her blood;


Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,


Yet she must die, else shell betray more men.


Put out the light, and then put out the light:


If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,


Should I repent me: but once put out thy light,


Thou cunningst pattern of excelling nature,


I know not where is that Promethean heat


That can thy light relume. When I have pluckd the rose,


It must needs wither: Ill smell it on the tree.


Ah balmy breath, that dost almost persuade


Justice to break her sword! One more, one more.


Be thus when thou art dead, and I will kill thee,


And love thee after. One more, and this the last:


So sweet was neer so fatal. I must weep,


But they are cruel tears: this sorrows heavenly;


It strikes where it doth love. She wakes.


Unreconciled as yet to heaven and grace,


Alas, my lord, what do you mean by that?


Well, do it, and be brief; I will walk by:


No; heaven forfend! I would not kill thy soul.


If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.


And yet I fear you; for you are fatal then


When your eyes roll so: why I should fear I know not,


Since guiltiness I know not; but yet I feel I fear.


That deaths unnatural that kills for loving.


Some bloody passion shakes your very frame:


These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope,


That handkerchief which I so loved and gave thee


Take heed of perjury; thou art on thy deathbed.


Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin;


Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception


That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.


Offend you in my life; never loved Cassio


But with such general warranty of heaven


As I might love: I never gave him token.


By heaven, I saw my handkerchief ins hand.


O perjured woman! thou dost stone my heart,


I never gave it him: send for him hither;


O! my fear interprets: what, is he dead?


Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge


Out, strumpet! weepst thou for him to my face?


Kill me to-morrow: let me live to-night!


[Within]  My lord , my lord! what, ho! my lord, my lord!


What noise is this? Not dead? not yet quite dead?


I would not have thee linger in thy pain: So, so.


[Within]  O, good my lord, I would speak a word with you!


Tis like she comes to speak of Cassios death.--


Still as the grave. Shall she come in? weret good?--


I think she stirs again:--no. Whats best to do?


If she come in, shell sure speak to my wife:


My wife! my wife! what wife? I have no wife.


Methinks it should be now a huge eclipse


Of sun and moon, and that the affrighted globe


That I may speak with you, O, good my lord!


Soft; by and by. Let me the curtains draw.


O, my good lord, yonders foul murders done!


She comes more nearer earth than she was wont,


Cassio, my lord, hath killd a young Venetian


Not Cassio killd! then murders out of tune,


Help! help, ho! help! O lady, speak again!


Sweet Desdemona! O sweet mistress, speak!


Commend me to my kind lord: O, farewell!


You heard her say herself, it was not I.


She said so: I must needs report the truth.


Shes, like a liar, gone to burning hell:


She turnd to folly, and she was a whore.


Thou dost belie her, and thou art a devil.


That she was false: O, she was heavenly true!


Cassio did top her; ask thy husband else.


O, I were damnd beneath all depth in hell,


But that I did proceed upon just grounds


To this extremity. Thy husband knew it all.


Ay, with Cassio. Nay, had she been true,


If heaven would make me such another world


An honest man he is, and hates the slime


What needs this iteration, woman? I say thy husband.


O mistress, villany hath made mocks with love,


I say thy husband: dost understand the word?


My friend, thy husband, honest, honest Iago.


Rot half a grain a day! he lies to the heart:


She was too fond of her most filthy bargain.


This deed of thine is no more worthy heaven


Thou hast not half that power to do me harm


As ignorant as dirt! thou hast done a deed--


I care not for thy sword; Ill make thee known,


Though I lost twenty lives.--Help! help, ho! help!


The Moor hath killd my mistress! Murder! murder!


Enter MONTANO, GRATIANO, IAGO, and others


O, are you come, Iago? you have done well,


That men must lay their murders on your neck.


Disprove this villain, if thou best a man:


He says thou toldst him that his wife was false:


I know thou didst not, thourt not such a villain:


I told him what I thought, and told no more


Than what he found himself was apt and true.


But did you ever tell him she was false?


She false with Cassio!--did you say with Cassio?


With Cassio, mistress. Go to, charm your tongue.


I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak:


My mistress here lies murderd in her bed,--


And your reports have set the murder on.


Nay, stare not, masters: it is true, indeed.


I think upont, I think: I smellt: O villany!--


I thought so then:--Ill kill myself for grief:--


What, are you mad? I charge you, get you home.


Good gentlemen, let me have leave to speak:


For thou hast killd the sweetest innocent


I scarce did know you, uncle: there lies your niece,


Whose breath, indeed, these hands have newly stoppd:


I know this act shows horrible and grim.


Poor Desdemona! I am glad thy fathers dead:


Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief


Shore his old thread in twain: did he live now,


This sight would make him do a desperate turn,


Yea, curse his better angel from his side,


That she with Cassio hath the act of shame


A thousand times committed; Cassio confessd it:


With that recognizance and pledge of love


Which I first gave her; I saw it in his hand:


No, I will speak as liberal as the north:


Let heaven and men and devils, let them all,


All, all, cry shame against me, yet Ill speak.


O thou dull Moor! that handkerchief thou speakst of


I found by fortune and did give my husband;


More than indeed belongd to such a trifle,


She give it Cassio! no, alas! I found it,


By heaven, I do not, I do not, gentlemen.


O murderous coxcomb! what should such a fool


But what serve for the thunder?--Precious villain!


He runs at IAGO  IAGO, from behind, stabs EMILIA, and exit


The woman falls; sure, he hath killd his wife.


Tis a notorious villain. Take you this weapon,


Which I have here recoverd from the Moor:


Come, guard the door without; let him not pass,


But kill him rather. Ill after that same villain,


Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan.


Moor, she was chaste; she loved thee, cruel Moor;


So come my soul to bliss, as I speak true;


It is a sword of Spain, the ice-brooks temper:--


O, here it is. Uncle, I must come forth.


[Within]  If thou attempt it, it will cost thee dear:


Thou hast no weapon, and perforce must suffer.


Upon a soldiers thigh: I have seen the day,


That, with this little arm and this good sword,


I have made my way through more impediments


Than twenty times your stop: but, O vain boast!


Who can control his fate? tis not so now.


Be not afraid, though you do see me weapond;


Here is my journeys end, here is my butt,


Do you go back dismayd? tis a lost fear;


And he retires. Where should Othello go?


Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starrd wench!


Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt,


This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven,


And fiends will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl!


From the possession of this heavenly sight!


Blow me about in winds! roast me in sulphur!


Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire!


Enter LODOVICO. MONTANO, CASSIO carried in a chair, and Officers with IAGO, prisoner


Where is this rash and most unfortunate man?


Where is that viper? bring the villain forth.


I look down towards his feet; but thats a fable.


If that thou best a devil, I cannot kill thee.


I am not sorry neither: Ild have thee live;


Falln in the practise of a damned slave,


For nought I did in hate, but all in honour.


This wretch hath part confessd his villany:


Did you and he consent in Cassios death?


Will you, I pray, demand that demi-devil


Why he hath thus ensnared my soul and body?


Demand me nothing: what you know, you know:


From this time forth I never will speak word.


Sir, you shall understand what hath befalln,


Which, as I think, you know not. Here is a letter


Found in the pocket of the slain Roderigo;


And here another: the one of them imports


Found in his pocket too; and this, it seems,


Roderigo meant to have sent this damned villain;


How came you, Cassio, by that handkerchief


That there he droppd it for a special purpose


Brave me upon the watch; whereon it came


That I was cast: and even but now he spake,


You must forsake this room, and go with us:


Your power and your command is taken off,


And Cassio rules in Cyprus. For this slave,


That can torment him much and hold him long,


It shall be his. You shall close prisoner rest,


Till that the nature of your fault be known


To the Venetian state. Come, bring him away.


I have done the state some service, and they knowt.


No more of that. I pray you, in your letters,


When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,


Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak


Of one that loved not wisely but too well;


Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought


Perplexd in the extreme; of one whose hand,


Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away


Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes,


I took by the throat the circumcised dog,


I kissd thee ere I killd thee: no way but this;


This did I fear, but thought he had no weapon;


More fell than anguish, hunger, or the sea!


This is thy work: the object poisons sight;


Let it be hid. Gratiano, keep the house,


And seize upon the fortunes of the Moor,


For they succeed on you. To you, lord governor,


Remains the censure of this hellish villain;


The time, the place, the torture: O, enforce it!


Myself will straight aboard: and to the state


Built up, this city, for his chiefest seat:


Bad child; worse father! to entice his own


What now ensues, to the judgment of your eye


Enter ANTIOCHUS, Prince PERICLES, and followers


Young prince of Tyre, you have at large received


Think death no hazard in this enterprise.


Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride,


For the embracements even of Jove himself;


At whose conception, till Lucina reignd,


Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence,


The senate-house of planets all did sit,


See where she comes, apparelld like the spring,


Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king


Her face the book of praises, where is read


Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence


You gods that made me man, and sway in love,


To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree,


Before thee stands this fair Hesperides,


With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touchd;


For death-like dragons here affright thee hard:


Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view


Her countless glory, which desert must gain;


And which, without desert, because thine eye


Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die.


Yon sometimes famous princes, like thyself,


Tell thee, with speechless tongues and semblance pale,


That without covering, save yon field of stars,


Here they stand martyrs, slain in Cupids wars;


And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist


For going on deaths net, whom none resist.


Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught


This body, like to them, to what I must;


For death rememberd should be like a mirror,


Who tells us lifes but breath, to trust it error.


Ill make my will then, and, as sick men do


Who know the world, see heaven, but, feeling woe,


Gripe not at earthly joys as erst they did;


And all good men, as every prince should do;


My riches to the earth from whence they came;


Thus ready for the way of life or death,


Scorning advice, read the conclusion then:


Which read and not expounded, tis decreed,


As these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed.


Of all sayd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous!


Like a bold champion, I assume the lists,


Sharp physic is the last: but, O you powers


That give heaven countless eyes to view mens acts,


Why cloud they not their sights perpetually,


If this be true, which makes me pale to read it?


Fair glass of light, I loved you, and could still,


Takes hold of the hand of the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS


Were not this glorious casket stored with ill:


But I must tell you, now my thoughts revolt


That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate.


You are a fair viol, and your sense the strings;


Who, fingerd to make man his lawful music,


Would draw heaven down, and all the gods, to hearken:


Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life.


As dangerous as the rest. Your times expired:


Either expound now, or receive your sentence.


Few love to hear the sins they love to act;


Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.


Hes more secure to keep it shut than shown:


For vice repeated is like the wandering wind.


Blows dust in others eyes, to spread itself;


And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,


The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear:


To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts


Coppd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is throngd


By mans oppression; and the poor worm doth die fort.


Kings are earths gods; in vice their laws


And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill?


What being more known grows worse, to smother it.


All love the womb that their first being bred,


Then give my tongue like leave to love my head.


[Aside]  Heaven, that I had thy head! he has found


But I will gloze with him.--Young prince of Tyre,


Though by the tenor of our strict edict,


We might proceed to cancel of your days;


Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree


As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise:


This mercy shows well joy in such a son:


As doth befit our honour and your worth.


The which is good in nothing but in sight!


Then were it certain you were not so bad


Where now youre both a father and a son,


By your untimely claspings with your child,


Which pleasure fits an husband, not a father;


And both like serpents are, who though they feed


On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed.


Antioch, farewell! for wisdom sees, those men


Blush not in actions blacker than the night,


Will shun no course to keep them from the light.


Murders as near to lust as flame to smoke:


Poison and treason are the hands of sin,


Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame:


Then, lest my lie be croppd to keep you clear,


By flight Ill shun the danger which I fear.


He hath found the meaning, for which we mean


He must not live to trumpet forth my infamy,


And therefore instantly this prince must die:


For by his fall my honour must keep high.


You are of our chamber, and our mind partakes


And for your faithfulness we will advance you.


Thaliard, behold, heres poison, and heres gold;


We hate the prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him:


Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.


Wilt live, fly after: and like an arrow shot


From a well-experienced archer hits the mark


His eye doth level at, so thou neer return


Unless thou say Prince Pericles is dead.


If I can get him within my pistols length,


Ill make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness.


[To Lords without]  Let none disturb us.--Why should


The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy,


In the days glorious walk, or peaceful night,


The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed me quiet?


Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun them,


And danger, which I feard, is at Antioch,


Whose aim seems far too short to hit me here:


Yet neither pleasures art can joy my spirits,


Then it is thus: the passions of the mind,


That have their first conception by mis-dread,


Have after-nourishment and life by care;


And what was first but fear what might be done,


Grows elder now and cares it be not done.


Since hes so great can make his will his act,


Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence;


And what may make him blush in being known,


Hell stop the course by which it might be known;


With hostile forces hell oerspread the land,


And with the ostent of war will look so huge,


Amazement shall drive courage from the state;


Our men be vanquishd ere they do resist,


And subjects punishd that neer thought offence:


Who am no more but as the tops of trees,


Which fence the roots they grow by and defend them,


Makes both my body pine and soul to languish,


And punish that before that he would punish.


Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast!


And keep your mind, till you return to us,


Peace, peace, and give experience tongue.


They do abuse the king that flatter him:


For flattery is the bellows blows up sin;


The thing which is flatterd, but a spark,


To which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing;


Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err.


When Signior Sooth here does proclaim a peace,


He flatters you, makes war upon your life.


Prince, pardon me, or strike me, if you please;


All leave us else; but let your cares oerlook


What shipping and what ladings in our haven,


Hast moved us: what seest thou in our looks?


If there be such a dart in princes frowns,


How durst thy tongue move anger to our face?


How dare the plants look up to heaven, from whence


That kings should let their ears hear their


Fit counsellor and servant for a prince,


Who by thy wisdom makest a prince thy servant,


Such griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself.


Thou speakst like a physician, Helicanus,


That thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself.


Where as thou knowst, against the face of death,


I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty.


Are arms to princes, and bring joys to subjects.


Her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder;


The rest--hark in thine ear--as black as incest:


Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father


Seemd not to strike, but smooth: but thou


Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.


Who seemd my good protector; and, being here,


Bethought me what was past, what might succeed.


Decrease not, but grow faster than the years:


And should he doubt it, as no doubt he doth,


How many worthy princes bloods were shed,


To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,


To lop that doubt, hell fill this land with arms,


And make pretence of wrong that I have done him:


When all, for mine, if I may call offence,


Must feel wars blow, who spares not innocence:


Which love to all, of which thyself art one,


Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks,


Musings into my mind, with thousand doubts


How I might stop this tempest ere it came;


And finding little comfort to relieve them,


I thought it princely charity to grieve them.


Well, my lord, since you have given me leave to speak.


Freely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,


And justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,


Who either by public war or private treason


Therefore, my lord, go travel for a while,


Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.


Day serves not light more faithful than Ill be.


But should he wrong my liberties in my absence?


Well mingle our bloods together in the earth,


From whence we had our being and our birth.


Tyre, I now look from thee then, and to Tarsus


Intend my travel, where Ill hear from thee;


And by whose letters Ill dispose myself.


The care I had and have of subjects good


On thee I lay whose wisdoms strength can bear it.


Ill take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath:


Who shuns not to break one will sure crack both:


But in our orbs well live so round and safe,


That time of both this truth shall neer convince,


Thou showdst a subjects shine, I a true prince.


SCENE III. Tyre. An ante-chamber in the palace.


So, this is Tyre, and this the court. Here must I


kill King Pericles; and if I do it not, I am sure to


be hanged at home: tis dangerous. Well, I perceive


he was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, that,


being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired


he might know none of his secrets: now do I see he


had some reason fort; for if a king bid a man be a


villain, hes bound by the indenture of his oath to


be one! Hush! here come the lords of Tyre.


Enter HELICANUS and ESCANES, with other Lords of Tyre


You shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre,


Further to question me of your kings departure:


His seald commission, left in trust with me,


Doth speak sufficiently hes gone to travel.


Why, as it were unlicensed of your loves,


He would depart, Ill give some light unto you.


Royal Antiochus--on what cause I know not--


Took some displeasure at him; at least he judged so:


And doubting lest that he had errd or sinnd,


To show his sorrow, held correct himself;


With whom each minute threatens life or death.


I shall not be hangd now, although I would;


But since hes gone, the kings seas must please:


He scaped the land, to perish at the sea.


Ill present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!


Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.


Your lord has betook himself to unknown travels,


My message must return from whence it came.


Yet, ere you shall depart, this we desire,


As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.


SCENE IV. Tarsus. A room in the Governors house.


Enter CLEON, the governor of Tarsus, with DIONYZA, and others


See if twill teach us to forget our own?


That were to blow at fire in hope to quench it;


For who digs hills because they do aspire


Throws down one mountain to cast up a higher.


O my distressed lord, even such our griefs are;


Here theyre but felt, and seen with mischiefs eyes,


But like to groves, being toppd, they higher rise.


Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it,


Or can conceal his hunger till he famish?


Our woes into the air; our eyes do weep,


Till tongues fetch breath that may proclaim them louder;


That, if heaven slumber while their creatures want,


They may awake their helps to comfort them.


Ill then discourse our woes, felt several years,


And wanting breath to speak help me with tears.


This Tarsus, oer which I have the government,


For riches strewd herself even in the streets;


Whose towers bore heads so high they kissd the clouds,


And strangers neer beheld but wondered at;


Whose men and dames so jetted and adornd,


Like one anothers glass to trim them by:


Their tables were stored full, to glad the sight,


All poverty was scornd, and pride so great,


But see what heaven can do! By this our change,


These mouths, who but of late, earth, sea, and air,


Were all too little to content and please,


Although they gave their creatures in abundance,


They are now starved for want of exercise:


Those palates who, not yet two summers younger,


Must have inventions to delight the taste,


Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it:


Those mothers who, to nousle up their babes,


Thought nought too curious, are ready now


To eat those little darlings whom they loved.


So sharp are hungers teeth, that man and wife


Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life:


Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping;


Here many sink, yet those which see them fall


Have scarce strength left to give them burial.


Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it.


With their superfluous riots, hear these tears!


Speak out thy sorrows which thou bringst in haste,


For comfort is too far for us to expect.


We have descried, upon our neighbouring shore,


One sorrow never comes but brings an heir,


And so in ours: some neighbouring nation,


Hath stuffd these hollow vessels with their power,


To beat us down, the which are down already;


Thats the least fear; for, by the semblance


Of their white flags displayd, they bring us peace,


And come to us as favourers, not as foes.


Thou speakst like hims untutord to repeat:


Who makes the fairest show means most deceit.


But bring they what they will and what they can,


The grounds the lowest, and we are half way there.


Go tell their general we attend him here,


To know for what he comes, and whence he comes,


Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist;


Be like a beacon fired to amaze your eyes.


We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre,


And seen the desolation of your streets:


Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears,


But to relieve them of their heavy load;


And these our ships, you happily may think


Are like the Trojan horse was stuffd within


Are stored with corn to make your needy bread,


And give them life whom hunger starved half dead.


We do not look for reverence, but to love,


And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men.


Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought,


Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves,


The curse of heaven and men succeed their evils!


Till when,--the which I hope shall neer be seen,--


Your grace is welcome to our town and us.


Which welcome well accept; feast here awhile,


Until our stars that frown lend us a smile.


That will prove awful both in deed and word.


Are brought your eyes; what need speak I?


Enter at one door PERICLES talking with CLEON; all  the train with them. Enter at another door a  Gentleman, with a letter to PERICLES; PERICLES  shows the letter to CLEON; gives the Messenger a  reward, and knights him. Exit PERICLES at one door, and CLEON at another


From others labours; for though he strive


Where when men been, theres seldom ease;


Should house him safe is wreckd and split;


SCENE I. Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.


Yet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!


Wind, rain, and thunder, remember, earthly man


Is but a substance that must yield to you;


Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks,


Washd me from shore to shore, and left me breath


Let it suffice the greatness of your powers


To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes;


And having thrown him from your watery grave,


Here to have death in peace is all hell crave.


Look how thou stirrest now! come away, or Ill


Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that


Alas, poor souls, it grieved my heart to hear what


pitiful cries they made to us to help them, when,


well-a-day, we could scarce help ourselves.


Nay, master, said not I as much when I saw the


porpus how he bounced and tumbled? they say


theyre half fish, half flesh: a plague on them,


they neer come but I look to be washed. Master, I


Why, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the


little ones: I can compare our rich misers to


nothing so fitly as to a whale; a plays and


tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at


last devours them all at a mouthful: such whales


have I heard on o the land, who never leave gaping


till theyve swallowed the whole parish, church,


But, master, if I had been the sexton, I would have


Because he should have swallowed me too: and when I


had been in his belly, I would have kept such a


jangling of the bells, that he should never have


left, till he cast bells, steeple, church, and


parish up again. But if the good King Simonides


We would purge the land of these drones, that rob


[Aside]  How from the finny subject of the sea


These fishers tell the infirmities of men;


Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.


Honest! good fellow, whats that? If it be a day


fits you, search out of the calendar, and nobody


May see the sea hath cast upon your coast.


What a drunken knave was the sea to cast thee in our


A man whom both the waters and the wind,


In that vast tennis-court, have made the ball


For them to play upon, entreats you pity him:


No, friend, cannot you beg? Heres them in our


country Greece gets more with begging than we can do


Nay, then thou wilt starve, sure; for heres nothing


to be got now-a-days, unless thou canst fish fort.


But what I am, want teaches me to think on:


A man throngd up with cold: my veins are chill,


And have no more of life than may suffice


To give my tongue that heat to ask your help;


Which if you shall refuse, when I am dead,


For that I am a man, pray see me buried.


Die quoth-a? Now gods forbid! I have a gown here;


come, put it on; keep thee warm. Now, afore me, a


handsome fellow! Come, thou shalt go home, and


fasting-days, and moreoer puddings and flap-jacks,


Hark you, my friend; you said you could not beg.


But crave! Then Ill turn craver too, and so I


Why, are all your beggars whipped, then?


O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your


beggars were whipped, I would wish no better office


than to be beadle. But, master, Ill go draw up the


[Aside]  How well this honest mirth becomes their labour!


Hark you, sir, do you know where ye are?


Why, Ill tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and


The good King Simonides, do you call him.


Ay, sir; and he deserves so to be called for his


He is a happy king, since he gains from his subjects


the name of good by his government. How far is his


Marry, sir, half a days journey: and Ill tell


you, he hath a fair daughter, and to-morrow is her


birth-day; and there are princes and knights come


from all parts of the world to just and tourney for her love.


Were my fortunes equal to my desires, I could wish


O, sir, things must be as they may; and what a man


cannot get, he may lawfully deal for--his wifes soul.


Re-enter Second and Third Fishermen, drawing up a net


Help, master, help! heres a fish hangs in the net,


like a poor mans right in the law; twill hardly


come out. Ha! bots ont, tis come at last, and


An armour, friends! I pray you, let me see it.


Thanks, fortune, yet, that, after all my crosses,


Thou givest me somewhat to repair myself;


And though it was mine own, part of my heritage,


Which my dead father did bequeath to me.


With this strict charge, even as he left his life,


Keep it, my Pericles; it hath been a shield


Twixt me and death;--and pointed to this brace;--


For that it saved me, keep it; in like necessity--


The which the gods protect thee from!--may


It kept where I kept, I so dearly loved it;


Till the rough seas, that spare not any man,


Took it in rage, though calmd have givent again:


I thank thee fort: my shipwreck nows no ill,


Since I have here my fathers gift ins will.


To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of worth,


I know it by this mark. He loved me dearly,


And for his sake I wish the having of it;


And that yould guide me to your sovereigns court,


And if that ever my low fortunes better,


Ill pay your bounties; till then rest your debtor.


Ill show the virtue I have borne in arms.


Why, do e take it, and the gods give thee good ont!


Ay, but hark you, my friend; twas we that made up


this garment through the rough seams of the waters:


there are certain condolements, certain vails. I


hope, sir, if you thrive, youll remember from


By your furtherance I am clothed in steel;


And, spite of all the rapture of the sea,


This jewel holds his building on my arm:


Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread.


Well sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to


make thee a pair; and Ill bring thee to the court myself.


This day Ill rise, or else add ill to ill.


SCENE II. The same. A public way or platform leading to the


lists. A pavilion by the side of it for the


reception of King, Princess, Lords,  and c.


Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, and Attendants


Are the knights ready to begin the triumph?


And stay your coming to present themselves.


Return them, we are ready; and our daughter,


In honour of whose birth these triumphs are,


Sits here, like beautys child, whom nature gat


It pleaseth you, my royal father, to express


My commendations great, whose merits less.


Its fit it should be so; for princes are


A model which heaven makes like to itself:


As jewels lose their glory if neglected,


So princes their renowns if not respected.


Tis now your honour, daughter, to explain


The labour of each knight in his device.


Which, to preserve mine honour, Ill perform.


Enter a Knight; he passes over, and his Squire presents his shield to the Princess


Who is the first that doth prefer himself?


He loves you well that holds his life of you.


Who is the second that presents himself?


Is an armd knight thats conquerd by a lady;


The motto thus, in Spanish, Piu por dulzura que por fuerza.


A burning torch thats turned upside down;


Which shows that beauty hath his power and will,


Which can as well inflame as it can kill.


The fifth, an hand environed with clouds,


Holding out gold thats by the touchstone tried;


The sixth and last, the which the knight himself


He seems to be a stranger; but his present is


A witherd branch, thats only green at top;


He hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish.


He had need mean better than his outward show


To have practised more the whipstock than the lance.


To an honourd triumph strangely furnished.


Until this day, to scour it in the dust.


But stay, the knights are coming: we will withdraw


Great shouts within and all cry The mean knight!


SCENE III. The same. A hall of state: a banquet prepared.


Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, Attendants, and Knights, from tilting


Were more than you expect, or more thans fit,


Since every worth in show commends itself.


Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast:


And crown you king of this days happiness.


Tis more by fortune, lady, than by merit.


Call it by what you will, the day is yours;


And here, I hope, is none that envies it.


In framing an artist, art hath thus decreed,


To make some good, but others to exceed;


And you are her labourd scholar. Come, queen o


For, daughter, so you are,--here take your place:


Marshal the rest, as they deserve their grace.


Your presence glads our days: honour we love;


For who hates honour hates the gods above.


That neither in our hearts nor outward eyes


By Jove, I wonder, that is king of thoughts,


These cates resist me, she but thought upon.


All viands that I eat do seem unsavoury.


Wishing him my meat. Sure, hes a gallant gentleman.


Has done no more than other knights have done;


Has broken a staff or so; so let it pass.


Yon kings to me like to my fathers picture,


Which tells me in that glory once he was;


Had princes sit, like stars, about his throne,


None that beheld him, but, like lesser lights,


Where now his sons like a glow-worm in the night,


The which hath fire in darkness, none in light:


Whereby I see that Times the king of men,


Hes both their parent, and he is their grave,


And gives them what he will, not what they crave.


Who can be other in this royal presence?


Here, with a cup thats stored unto the brim,--


As you do love, fill to your mistress lips,--


Had not a show might countervail his worth.


Princes in this should live like gods above,


And princes not doin g so are like to gnats,


Which make a sound, but killd are wonderd at.


Therefore to make his entrance more sweet,


Here, say we drink this standing-bowl of wine to him.


Since men take womens gifts for impudence.


[Aside]  Now, by the gods, he could not please me better.


And furthermore tell him, we desire to know of him,


Of whence he is, his name and parentage.


The king my father, sir, has drunk to you.


Wishing it so much blood unto your life.


I thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.


Of whence you are, your name and parentage.


Who, looking for adventures in the world,


Was by the rough seas reft of ships and men,


And after shipwreck driven upon this shore.


He thanks your grace; names himself Pericles,


Bereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.


Now, by the gods, I pity his misfortune,


Come, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,


And waste the time, which looks for other revels.


Even in your armours, as you are addressd,


I will not have excuse, with saying this


Loud music is too harsh for ladies heads,


Since they love men in arms as well as beds.


So, this was well askd,twas so well performd.


Here is a lady that wants breathing too:


And that their measures are as excellent.


In those that practise them they are, my lord.


Thanks, gentlemen, to all; all have done well.


But you the best. Pages and lights, to conduct


These knights unto their several lodgings!


Princes, it is too late to talk of love;


Therefore each one betake him to his rest;


To-morrow all for speeding do their best.


SCENE IV. Tyre. A room in the Governors house.


For which, the most high gods not minding longer


To withhold the vengeance that they had in store,


Even in the height and pride of all his glory,


Of an inestimable value, and his daughter with him,


A fire from heaven came and shrivelld up


Their bodies, even to loathing; for they so stunk,


That all those eyes adored them ere their fall


Scorn now their hand should give them burial.


This king were great, his greatness was no guard


To bar heavens shaft, but sin had his reward.


It shall no longer grieve without reproof.


And cursed be he that will not second it.


With me? and welcome: happy day, my lords.


Know that our griefs are risen to the top,


And now at length they overflow their banks.


Your griefs! for what? wrong not your prince you love.


Wrong not yourself, then, noble Helicane;


But if the prince do live, let us salute him,


Or know what grounds made happy by his breath.


If in the world he live, well seek him out;


If in his grave he rest, well find him there;


Or dead, gives cause to mourn his funeral,


Whose death indeeds the strongest in our censure:


And knowing this kingdom is without a head,--


Like goodly buildings left without a roof


That best know how to rule and how to reign,


For honours cause, forbear your suffrages:


If that you love Prince Pericles, forbear.


Wheres hourly trouble for a minutes ease.


A twelvemonth longer, let me entreat you to


If in which time expired, he not return,


I shall with aged patience bear your yoke.


Go search like nobles, like noble subjects,


And in your search spend your adventurous worth;


You shall like diamonds sit about his crown.


To wisdom hes a fool that will not yield;


Then you love us, we you, and well clasp hands:


When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands.


SCENE V. Pentapolis. A room in the palace.


Enter SIMONIDES, reading a letter, at one door: the Knights meet him


Knights, from my daughter this I let you know,


That for this twelvemonth shell not undertake


Which yet from her by no means can I get.


Faith, by no means; she has so strictly tied


Her to her chamber, that tis impossible.


One twelve moons more shell wear Dianas livery;


This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vowd


And on her virgin honour will not break it.


Loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves.


They are well dispatchd; now to my daughters letter:


She tells me here, shed wed the stranger knight,


Or never more to view nor day nor light.


Tis well, mistress; your choice agrees with mine;


I like that well: nay, how absolute shes int,


Soft! here he comes: I must dissemble it.


To you as much, sir! I am beholding to you


For your sweet music this last night: I do


The worst of all her scholars, my good lord.


Sir, my daughter thinks very well of you;


Ay, so well, that you must be her master,


And she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.


She thinks not so; peruse this writing else.


A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!


O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord,


That never aimd so high to love your daughter,


Thou hast bewitchd my daughter, and thou art


A deed might gain her love or your displeasure.


Even in his throat--unless it be the king--


That calls me traitor, I return the lie.


[Aside]  Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage.


I came unto your court for honours cause,


This sword shall prove hes honours enemy.


Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.


Who takes offence at that would make me glad?


Ill tame you; Ill bring you in subjection.


Therefore hear you, mistress; either frame


Your will to mine,--and you, sir, hear you,


Either be ruled by me, or I will make you--


Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too:


And being joind, Ill thus your hopes destroy;


And for a further grief,--God give you joy!--


Even as my life, or blood that fosters it.


It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you wed;


And then with what haste you can get you to bed.


Whats dumb in show Ill plain with speech.


Enter, PERICLES and SIMONIDES at one door, with  Attendants; a Messenger meets them, kneels, and  gives PERICLES a letter: PERICLES shows it  SIMONIDES; the Lords kneel to him. Then enter  THAISA with child, with LYCHORIDA a nurse. The  KING shows her the letter; she rejoices: she and  PERICLES takes leave of her father, and depart with  LYCHORIDA and their Attendants. Then exeunt SIMONIDES and the rest


Fame answering the most strange inquire,


Who dreamd, who thought of such a thing?


Thou god of this great vast, rebuke these surges,


Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that hast


Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,


Having calld them from the deep! O, still


Thy deafening, dreadful thunders; gently quench


Thy nimble, sulphurous flashes! O, how, Lychorida,


How does my queen? Thou stormest venomously;


Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seamans whistle


To those that cry by night, convey thy deity


Aboard our dancing boat; make swift the pangs


Here is a thing too young for such a place,


Am like to do: take in your arms this piece


Patience, good sir; do not assist the storm.


Heres all that is left living of your queen,


Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,


And snatch them straight away? We here below


Recall not what we give, and therein may


For a more blustrous birth had never babe:


Thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world


That ever was princes child. Happy what follows!


As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make,


To herald thee from the womb: even at the first


Thy loss is more than can thy portage quit,


With all thou canst find here. Now, the good gods


It hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the love


Of this poor infant, this fresh-new sea-farer,


Slack the bolins there! Thou wilt not, wilt thou?


But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss


Sir, your queen must overboard: the sea works high,


the wind is loud, and will not lie till the ship be


Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it hath been still


observed: and we are strong in custom. Therefore


briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight.


A terrible childbed hast thou had, my dear;


No light, no fire: the unfriendly elements


To give thee hallowd to thy grave, but straight


Must cast thee, scarcely coffind, in the ooze;


And eer-remaining lamps, the belching whale


And humming water must oerwhelm thy corpse,


Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,


My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander


A priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.


Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked


I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?


Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it?


Cannot hold out to Tyrus: there Ill leave it


At careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:


SCENE II. Ephesus. A room in CERIMONs house.


Enter CERIMON, with a Servant, and some Persons who have been shipwrecked


T has been a turbulent and stormy night.


I have been in many; but such a night as this,


Your master will be dead ere you return;


Theres nothing can be ministerd to nature


Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea,


And all-to topple: pure surprise and fear


That is the cause we trouble you so early;


But I much marvel that your lordship, having


Rich tire about you, should at these early hours


Nature should be so conversant with pain,


Virtue and cunning were endowments greater


Than nobleness and riches: careless heirs


Have studied physic, through which secret art,


Together with my practise, made familiar


That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;


That nature works, and of her cures; which doth give me


A more content in course of true delight


Than to be thirsty after tottering honour,


Your honour has through Ephesus pourd forth


Your charity, and hundreds call themselves


Your creatures, who by you have been restored:


And not your knowledge, your personal pain, but even


Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon


Such strong renown as time shall neer decay.


Enter two or three Servants with a chest


Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest:


Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight:


If the seas stomach be oercharged with gold,


Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us.


Soft! it smells most sweetly in my sense.


O you most potent gods! whats here? a corse!


Shrouded in cloth of state; balmd and entreasured


With full bags of spices! A passport too!


If thou livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart


That even cracks for woe! This chanced tonight.


For look how fresh she looks! They were too rough


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


The oerpressd spirits. I heard of an Egyptian


Re-enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire


Well said, well said; the fire and cloths.


The rough and woeful music that we have,


The viol once more: how thou stirrst, thou block!


The music there!--I pray you, give her air.


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


Through you, increase our wonder and set up


Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels


Begin to part their fringes of bright gold;


Do appear, to make the world twice rich. Live,


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


Where am I? Wheres my lord? What world is this?


Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her.


Get linen: now this matter must be lookd to,


SCENE III. Tarsus. A room in CLEONs house.


Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, and LYCHORIDA with MARINA in her arms


Most honourd 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


Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,


That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither,


The powers above us. Could 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, leaving her


To give her princely training, that she may be


Your grace, that fed my country with your corn,


For which the peoples prayers 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:


Your honour and your goodness teach me tot,


Without your vows. Till she be married, madam,


Unscissord shall this hair of mine remain,


Though I show ill int. So I take my leave.


Good madam, make me blessed in your care


Who shall not be more dear to my respect


Well bring your grace een to the edge o the shore,


Then give you up to the maskd Neptune and


Your offer. Come, dearest madam. O, no tears,


Look to your little mistress, on whose grace


You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord.


SCENE IV. Ephesus. A room in CERIMONs house.


Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels,


Lay with you in your coffer: which are now


At your command. Know you the character?


That I was shippd at sea, I well remember,


Even on my eaning time; but whether there


I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles,


Where you may abide till your date expire.


Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine


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


Which makes her both the heart and place


With fingers long, small, white as milk;


Or when she would with sharp needle wound


SCENE I. Tarsus. An open place near the sea-shore.


Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to dot:


Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.


Thou canst not do a thing in the world so soon,


To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience,


Which is but cold, inflaming love i thy bosom,


Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be


I will dot; but yet she is a goodly creature.


The fitter, then, the gods should have her. Here


she comes weeping for her only mistress death.


To strew thy green with flowers: the yellows, blues,


While summer-days do last. Ay me! poor maid,


This world to me is like a lasting storm,


How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not


Consume your blood with sorrowing: you have


A nurse of me. Lord, how your favours changed


Come, give me your flowers, ere the sea mar it.


Walk with Leonine; the air is quick there,


And it pierces and sharpens the stomach. Come,


Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her.


I love the king your father, and yourself,


With more than foreign heart. We every 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; reserve


That excellent complexion, which did steal


The eyes of young and old. Care not for me


Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least:


Ill leave you, my sweet lady, for a while:


Pray, walk softly, do not heat your blood:


My father, as nurse said, did never fear,


But cried Good seaman! to the sailors, galling


And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea


A canvas-climber. Ha! says one, wilt out?


From stem to stern: the boatswain whistles, and


The master calls, and trebles their confusion.


If you require a little space for prayer,


For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn


I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn


Wherein my death might yield her any profit,


Is not to reason of the deed, but do it.


You will not dot for all the world, I hope.


You are well favourd, 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 showd well in you: do so now:


Your lady seeks my life; come you between,


These roguing thieves serve the great pirate Valdes;


And they have seized Marina. Let her go:


Theres no hope she will return. Ill swear


And thrown into the sea. But Ill see further:


Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her,


Whom they have ravishd must by me be slain.


SCENE II. Mytilene. A room in a brothel.


Search the market narrowly; Mytilene is full of


gallants. We lost too much money this mart by being


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.


Therefore lets have fresh ones, whateer we pay for


them. If there be not a conscience to be used in


Thou sayest true: tis not our bringing up of poor


bastards,--as, I think, I have brought up some eleven--


Ay, to eleven; and brought them down again. But


What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong wind


will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully sodden.


Thou sayest true; theyre too unwholesome, o


conscience. The poor Transylvanian is dead, that


Ay, she quickly pooped him; she made him roast-meat


for worms. But Ill go search the market.


Three or four thousand chequins were as pretty a


proportion to live quietly, and so give over.


Why to give over, I pray you? is it a shame to get


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


As well as we! ay, and better too; we offend worse.


Neither is our profession any trade; its no


Re-enter BOULT, with the Pirates and MARINA


[To MARINA]  Come your ways. My masters, you say


Master, I have gone through for this piece, you see:


if you like her, so; if not, I have lost my earnest.


She has a good face, speaks well, and has excellent


good clothes: theres no further necessity of


I cannot be bated one doit of a thousand pieces.


Well, follow me, my masters, you shall have your


money presently. Wife, take her in; instruct her


what she has to do, that she may not be raw in her


Boult, take you the marks of her, the colour of her


hair, complexion, height, 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


Alack that Leonine was so slack, so slow!


He should have struck, not spoke; or that these pirates,


Not enough barbarous, had not oerboard thrown me


Come, the gods have done their part in you.


You are light into my hands, where you are like to live.


To scape his hands where I was like to die.


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?


What would you have me be, an I be not a woman?


Marry, whip thee, gosling: I think I shall have


something to do with you. Come, youre a young


foolish sapling, and must be bowed as I would have


If it please the gods to defend you by men, then men


must comfort you, men must feed you, men must stir


Now, sir, hast thou cried her through the market?


I have cried her almost to the number of her hairs;


And I prithee tell me, how dost thou find the


inclination of the people, especially of the younger sort?


Faith, they listened to me as they would have


hearkened to their fathers testament. There was a


Spaniards mouth so watered, that he went to bed to


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


To-night, to-night. But, mistress, do you know the


Ay, he: he offered to cut a caper at the


proclamation; but he made a groan at it, and swore


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


Well, if we had of every nation a traveller, we


[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.


O, take her home, mistress, take her home: these


blushes of hers must be quenched with some present practise.


Thou sayest true, i faith, so they must; for your


bride goes to that with shame which is her way to go


Faith, some do, and some do not. But, mistress, if


Who should deny it? Come, young one, I like the


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


Boult, spend thou that in the town: report what a


sojourner we have; youll 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.


I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake


the beds of eels as my giving out her beauty stir up


the lewdly-inclined. Ill bring home some to-night.


If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep,


Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.


What have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with us?


SCENE III. Tarsus. A room in CLEONs house.


Were I chief lord of all this spacious world,


Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess


I the justice of compare! O villain Leonine!


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?


That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,


She died at night; Ill say so. Who can cross it?


Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods


The petty wrens of Tarsus will fly hence,


To think of what a noble strain you are,


Though not his prime consent, he did not flow


Yet none does know, but you, how she came dead,


She did disdain my child, and stood between


Her and her fortunes: none would look on her,


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


What should he say? We wept after her hearse,


Which, to betray, dost, with thine angels face,


Doth swear to the gods that winter kills the flies:


Enter GOWER, before the monument of MARINA at Tarsus


Thus time we waste, and longest leagues make short;


Sail seas in cockles, have an wish but fort;


By you being pardond, 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,


Is now again thwarting the wayward seas,


To see his daughter, all his lifes delight.


Advanced in time 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 grow on,--


To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.


Like motes and shadows see them move awhile;


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


This borrowd passion stands for true old woe;


With sighs shot through, and biggest tears


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.


Reads the inscription on MARINAs monument


The fairest, sweetst, and best lies here,


On whom foul death hath made this slaughter;


Thetis, being proud, swallowd some part o the earth:


Therefore the earth, fearing to be oerflowd,


Hath Thetis birth-child on the heavens bestowd:


Wherefore she does, and swears shell never stint,


Make raging battery upon shores of flint.


Let Pericles believe his daughters dead,


By Lady Fortune; while our scene must play


SCENE V. Mytilene. A street before the brothel.


No, nor never shall do in such a place as this, she


But to have divinity preached there! did you ever


No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdy-houses:


Ill do any thing now that is virtuous; but I


SCENE VI. The same. A room in the brothel.


Well, I had rather than twice the worth of her she


Fie, fie upon her! shes 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,


Faith, I must ravish her, or shell disfurnish us


of all our cavaliers, and make our swearers priests.


Now, the pox upon her green-sickness for me!


Faith, theres no way to be rid ont but by the


way to the pox. Here comes the Lord Lysimachus disguised.


We should have both lord and lown, if the peevish


baggage would but give way to customers.


I am glad to see your honour in good health.


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


We have here one, sir, if she would--but there never


If sheld do the deed of darkness, thou wouldst say.


Your honour knows what tis to say well enough.


For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you shall


see a rose; and she were a rose indeed, if she had but--


That dignifies the renown of a bawd, no less than it


gives a good report to a number to be chaste.


Here comes that which grows to the stalk; never


Faith, she would serve after a long voyage at sea.


I beseech your honour, give me leave: a word, and


[To MARINA]  First, I would have you note, this is


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


Next, hes the governor of this country, and a man


If he govern the country, you are bound to him


indeed; but how honourable he is in that, I know not.


Pray you, without any more virginal fencing, will


you use him kindly? He will line your apron with gold.


What he will do graciously, I will thankfully receive.


My lord, shes 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.


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


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


How long have you been of this profession?


Did you go to t so young? Were you a gamester at


Why, the house you dwell in proclaims you to be a


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.


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


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:


If you were born to honour, show it now;


Hows this? hows this? Some more; be sage.


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,


Would set me free from this unhallowd place,


Though they did change me to the meanest bird


Thou couldst have spoke so well; neer dreamd thou couldst.


Thy speech had alterd it. Hold, heres gold for thee:


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.


That robs thee of thy goodness! If thou dost


I beseech your honour, one piece for me.


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


Hows 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


I must have your maidenhead taken off, or the common


hangman shall execute it. Come your ways. Well


have no more gentlemen driven away. Come your ways, I say.


Worse and worse, mistress; she has here spoken holy


She makes our profession as it were to stink afore


The nobleman would have dealt with her like a


nobleman, and she sent him away as cold as a


Boult, take her away; use her at thy pleasure:


crack the glass of her virginity, and make the rest malleable.


An if she were a thornier piece of ground than she


She conjures: away with her! Would she had never


come within my doors! Marry, hang you! Shes born


to undo us. Will you not go the way of women-kind?


Marry, come up, my dish of chastity with rosemary and bays!


To take from you the jewel you hold so dear.


Why, I could wish him to be my master, or rather, my mistress.


Neither of these are so bad as thou art,


Since they do better thee in their command.


Thou holdst a place, for which the painedst fiend


Coistrel that comes inquiring for his Tib;


As hath been belchd on by infected lungs.


What would you have me do? go to the wars, would


you? where a man may serve seven years for the loss


of a leg, and have not money enough in the end to


OLD receptacles, or common shores, of filth;


Serve by indenture to the common hangman:


Any of these ways are yet better than this;


For what thou professest, a baboon, could he speak,


Would own a name too dear. O, that the gods


Would safely deliver me from this place!


Proclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance,


With other virtues, which Ill keep from boast:


And I will undertake all these to teach.


But can you teach all this you speak of?


Prove that I cannot, take me home again,


Well, I will see what I can do for thee: if I can


Faith, my acquaintance lies little amongst them.


But since my master and mistress have bought you,


theres no going but by their consent: therefore I


will make them acquainted with your purpose, and I


doubt not but I shall find them tractable enough.


Come, Ill do for thee what I can; come your ways.


Marina thus the brothel scapes, and chances


She sings like one immortal, and she dances


Deep clerks she dumbs; and with her needle composes


Natures own shape, of bud, bird, branch, or berry,


That even her art sisters the natural roses;


Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied cherry:


That pupils lacks she none of noble race,


Who pour their bounty on her; and her gain


She gives the cursed bawd. Here we her place;


And to her father turn our thoughts again,


Where we left him, on the sea. We there him lost;


Whence, driven before the winds, he is arrived


Here where his daughter dwells; and on this coast


Suppose him now at anchor. The city strived


God Neptunes annual feast to keep: from whence


His banners sable, trimmd with rich expense;


And to him in his barge with fervor hies.


In your supposing once more put your sight


Where what is done in action, more, if might,


Shall be discoverd; please you, sit and hark.


SCENE I. On board PERICLES ship, off Mytilene. A close


pavilion on deck, with a curtain before it; PERICLES


within it, reclined on a couch. A barge lying


Enter two Sailors, one belonging to the Tyrian vessel, the other to the barge; to them HELICANUS


[To the Sailor of Mytilene]  Where is lord Helicanus?


Sir, theres a barge put off from Mytilene,


Who craves to come aboard. What is your will?


That he have his. Call up some gentlemen.


Gentlemen, theres some of worth would come aboard;