My lord, that maybe hath endured a grief
Might equal yours, if both were justly weighed.
Though wayward fortune did malign my state,
My derivation was from ancestors
Who stood equivalent with mighty kings,
But time hath rooted out my parentage,
And to the world and awkward casualties
Bound me in servitude. (Aside) I will desist.
But there is something glows upon my cheek,
And whispers in mine ear ‘Stay till he speak.’
PERICLES
My fortunes, parentage, good parentage,
To equal mine? Was it not thus? What say you?
MARINA
I said if you did know my parentage,
My lord, you would not do me violence.
PERICLES
I do think so. Pray you, turn your eyes upon me.
You’re like something that—what countrywoman?
Here of these shores?
MARINA No, nor of any shores,
Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am
No other than I seem.
PERICLES ⌈aside⌉
I am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping.
My dearest wife was like this maid, and such
My daughter might have been. My queen’s square
brows,
Her stature to an inch, as wand-like straight,
As silver-voiced, her eyes as jewel-like,
And cased as richly, in pace another Juno,
Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them
hungry
The more she gives them speech.—Where do you live?
MARINA
Where I am but a stranger. From the deck
You may discern the place.
PERICLES
Where were you bred, And how achieved you these endowments which You make more rich to owe?
MARINA If I should tell My history, it would seem like lies Disdained in the reporting.
PERICLES Prithee speak.
Falseness cannot come from thee, for thou look‘st
Modest as justice, and thou seem’st a palace
For the crowned truth to dwell in. I will believe thee,
And make my senses credit thy relation
To points that seem impossible. Thou show‘st
Like one I loved indeed. What were thy friends?
Didst thou not say, when I did push thee back—
Which was when I perceived thee—that thou cam’st
From good descending?
MARINA So indeed I did.
PERICLES
Report thy parentage. I think thou said‘st
Thou hadst been tossed from wrong to injury,
And that thou thought’st thy griefs might equal mine,
If both were opened.
MARINA Some such thing I said,
And said no more but what my circumstance
Did warrant me was likely.
PERICLES Tell thy story.
If thine considered prove the thousandth part
Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I
Have suffered like a girl. Yet thou dost look
Like patience gazing on kings’ graves, and smiling
Extremity out of act. What were thy friends?
How lost thou them? Thy name, my most kind virgin?
Recount, I do beseech thee. Come, sit by me.
She sits
MARINA
My name, sir, is Marina.
PERICLES
O, I am mocked,
And thou by some incensed god sent hither
To make the world to laugh at me.
MARINA Patience, good sir,
Or here I’ll cease.
PERICLES
Nay, I’ll be patient.
Thou little know’st how thou dost startle me
To call thyself Marina.
MARINA
The name
Was given me by one that had some power:
My father, and a king.
PERICLES
How, a king’s daughter, And called Marina?
MARINA
You said you would believe me, But not to be a troubler of your peace I will end here.
PERICLES
But are you flesh and blood?
Have you a working pulse and are no fairy?
Motion as well? Speak on. Where were you born,
And wherefore called Marina?
MARINA
Called Marina
For I was born at sea.
PERICLES At sea? What mother?
MARINA
My mother was the daughter of a king,
Who died when I was born, as my good nurse
Lychorida hath oft recounted weeping.
PERICLES
O, stop there a little! ⌈Aside⌉ This is the rarest dream
That e’er dulled sleep did mock sad fools withal.
This cannot be my daughter, buried. Well.
(To Marina) Where were you bred? I’ll hear you more
to th’ bottom
Of your story, and never interrupt you.
MARINA
You will scarce believe me. ‘Twere best I did give o’er.
PERICLES
I will believe you by the syllable
Of what you shall deliver. Yet give me leave.
How came you in these parts? Where were you bred?
MARINA
The King my father did in Tarsus leave me,
Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,
Did seek to murder me, and wooed a villain
To attempt the deed; who having drawn to do’t,
A crew of pirates came and rescued me.
To Mytilene they brought me. But, good sir,
What will you of me? Why do you weep? It may be
You think me an impostor. No, good faith,
I am the daughter to King Pericles,
If good King Pericles be.
PERICLES
HELICANUS (coming forward) Calls my lord?
PERICLES
Thou art a grave and noble counsellor,
Most wise in gen’ral. Tell me if thou canst
What this maid is, or what is like to be,
That thus hath made me weep.
HELICANUS
I know not.
But here’s the regent, sir, of Mytilene
Speaks nobly of her.
LYSIMACHUS She would never tell
Her parentage. Being demanded that,