Per. I am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now My drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said Thou hast been godlike perfect, †The heir of kingdoms and another like To Pericles thy father. 210 Mar. Is it no more to be your daughter than To say my mother's name was Thaisa ? Thaisa was my mother, who did end The minute I began. Per. Now, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child. [canus ; Give me fresh garments. Mine own, HeliShe is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been, By savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all; When thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge She is thy very princess. Who is this? I embrace you. 220 Sir, lend me your arm. Per. Come, my Marina. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Enter GOWER, before the temple of DIANA at Ephesus. Gow. Now our sands are almost run; More a little, and then dumb. This, my last boon, give me, [ing. For such kindness must relieve me, That you aptly will suppose Per. Give me my robes. I am wild in my beholdO heavens bless my girl! But, hark, what music? Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him Hel. My lord, I hear none. Per. None! 230 The music of the spheres! List, my Marina. Lys. It is not good to cross him; give him way. Per. Rarest sounds! Do ye not hear? So, leave him all. Well, my companion friends, 240 [Exeunt all but Pericles. DIANA appears to PERICLES as in a vision. Dia. My temple stands in Ephesus: hie thee thither, And do upon mine altar sacrifice. [gether, There, when my maiden priests are met toBefore the people all, Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife : To mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call And give them repetition to the life. Or perform my bidding, or thou livest in woe; Do it, and happy; by my silver bow! What pageantry, what feats, what shows, 270 280 [Exit. SCENE III. The temple of Diana at Ephesus; THAISA standing near the altar, as high priestess; a number of Virgins on each side; CERIMON and other Inhabitants of Ephesus attending. Enter PERICLES, with his train; LYSIMACHUS, HELICANUS, MARINA, and a Lady. Per. Hail, Dian! to perform thy just command, I here confess myself the king of Tyre; At sea in childbed died she, but brought forth Thai. 'Twas Helicanus then. Per. Still confirmation: Embrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he. Now do I long to hear how you were found; How possibly preserved; and who to thank, Besides the gods, for this great miracle Thai. Lord Cerimon, my lord; this man, Through whom the gods have shown the r power; that can 60 From first to last resolve you. Per. Reverend sir, The gods can have no mortal officer More like a god than you. Will you deliver How this dead queen re-lives? Cer. How she came placed here in the temple; Per. Pure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! 1 Will offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa, 70 This prince, the fair-betrothed of your daugh ter, Shall marry her at Pentapolis. And now, Makes me look dismal will I clip to form ; Per. Heavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen, We'll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves Will in that kingdom spend our following days: CYMBELINE. (WRITTEN ABOUT 1609.) INTRODUCTION. Cymbeline interweaves with a fragment of British history taken from Holinshed, a story from Boccacio's Decameron (9th Novel of 2nd Day), the Genevra of the Italian novel corresponding to Shakespeare's Imogen. The story is told in a tract called Westward for Smelts, 1620 (stated by Steevens and Malone to have been published as early as 1603); but Shakespeare appears in some way, directly or indirectly, to have made acquaintance with it as given by Boccacio. The names of the two princes Shakespeare found, as well as the king's name, in Holinshed; but the incidents of their having been stolen, and their life, among the mountains of Wales, appear to have been invented by the dramatist. Dr. Forman records in his MS Booke of Plaies and Notes thereof that he saw Cymbeline acted; but he gives no date. His book, however, belongs to the years 1610-1611, and the metrical and other internal evidence point to that time as about the period when the drama must have been written. It is loosely constructed, and some passages possess little dramatic intensity. Several critics have questioned whether the vision of Posthumus (Act V. Sc. IV.) is of Shakespeare's authorship, and it is certainly poorly conceived and written. Nevertheless, the play is one of singular charm, and contains in Imogen one of the loveliest of Shakespeare's creations of female character. Except grandeur and majesty, which were reserved for Hermione and Queen Katherine, every thing that can make a woman lovely is given by the poet to Imogen: quick and exquisite feelings, brightness of intellect, delicate imagination, energy to hate evil and to right what was wrong, scorn for what is mean or rude, culture, dainty womanly accomplishments, the gift of song, a capacity for exquisite happiness and no less sensitiveness to the sharpness of sorrow, a power of quick recovery from disaster when the warmth of love breathes upon her once more, beauty of a type which is noble and refined. And her lost brothers are gallant youths, bred happily far from the court, in wilds where their generous instincts and love of freedom and activity find innocent if insufficient modes of gratification. As in all the works of this period, an open-air feeling pervades a great part of the drama; nature, itself joyous and free, ministers to what is beautiful, simple, or heroic in man, while yet by Shakespeare nature alone is never anywhere conceived as sufficient to satisfy the heart or the imagination of a human being. With reconciliation and reunion this, like the other Romances, closes. The faith of Posthumus in Imogen is of a half-romantic kind, unconfirmed by calm and deep acquaintance with her heart: that faith is not subtly poisoned, like the love of Othello, but suddenly, in one brief and desperate encounter, overthrown, His jealousy is not heroic, like Othello's; it shows something of grossness, unworthy of his true self. In due time penitential sorrow does its work, his nobler nature reasserts itself, and in the final reunion of parent and lost children, the erring husband is also restored to the quick-beating, joyous heart of his wife. Two British Captains. A Frenchman, friend to Philario. Queen, wife to Cymbeline. IMOGEN, daughter to Cymbeline by a former queen. HELEN, a lady attending on Imogen. Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, a Soothsayer, a Dutchman, a Spaniard, Musicians, Officers, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants. Apparitions. SCENE: Britain; Rome. Sec. Gent. But what's the matter? First Gent. His daughter, and the heir of's kingdom, whom He purposed to his wife's sole son-a widow That late he married-hath referr'd herself Unto a poor but worthy gentleman: she's wedded; Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd all Sec. Gent. That most desired the match; but not a courtier, Although they wear their faces to the bent Too bad for bad report: and he that hath her I mean, that married her, alack, good man! And therefore banish'd-is a creature such 19 As, to seek through the regions of the earth For one his like, there would be something failing In him that should compare. I do not think So fair an outward and such stuff within Endows a man but he. What's his name and birth? First Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: his father 30 Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honor Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow atus, 41 Breeds him and makes him of his bed-chamber, Puts to him all the learnings that his time Queen. Re-enter QUEEN. Be brief, I pray you: 101 If the king come, I shall incur I know not How much of his displeasure. [Aside] Yet I'll move him To walk this way: I never do him wrong, But he does buy my injuries, to be friends; Pays dear for my offences. [Exit. Post. Should we be taking leave As long a term as yet we have to live, The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu! Imo. Nay, stay a little : Were you but riding forth to air yourself, 110 But keep it till you woo another wife, Post. While sense can keep it on. And, sweetest, fairest, As I my poor self did exchange for you, I still win of you: for my sake wear this; Imo. 120 [Putting a bracelet upon her arm. O the gods! When shall we see again? What, art thou mad? Imo. Almost, sir: heaven restore me! Would I were A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus Thou foolish thing! 150 They were again together: you have done Queen. Beseech your patience. Peace, Dear lady daughter, peace! Sweet sovereign, Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some comfort Out of your best advice. Сут. Nay, let her languish A drop of blood a day; and, being aged, Die of this folly! Queen. [Exeunt Cymbeline and Lords. Fie! you must give way. Enter PISANIO. Here is your servant. How now, sir! What news? Pis. My lord your son drew on my master. Queen. No harm, I trust, is done? Ha! 160 Pis. Queen. To draw upon an exile! O brave sir! I would they were in Afric both together; |