180 230 some canse 186 191 sure. 240 198 245 901 Duke. Why, you are nothing then: neither maid, widow, nor wife? Lucio. My lord, she may be a punk; for many of them are neither maid, widow, nor wife. Duke. Silence that fellow. I would he had To prattle for himself. Lucio. Well, my lord. Mari. My lord, I do confess I ne'er was mar ried; And I confess besides I am no maid. I have known my husband ; yet my husband Knows not that ever he knew me. Lucio. He was drunk then, my lord; it can be no better. Duke. For the benefit of silence, would thou wert so too! Lucio. Well, my lord. Ang. Charges she moe than me? Not that I know. gelo, Who thinks he knows that he ne'er knew my body, But knows he thinks that he knows Isabel's. Ang. This is a strange abuse. Let's see thy face. Mari. My husband bids me; now I will unmask. (Unveiling.) This is that face, thou cruel Angelo, Which once thou swor'st was worth the looking on ; Know you this woman? Sirrah, no more! woman; And five years since there was some speech of marriage Betwixt myself and her ; which was broke off, Partly for that her promised proportions Came short of composition, but in chief For that her reputation was disvalued In levity: since which time of five years I never spake with her, saw her, nor heard from her, Upon my faith and honour. Mari. Noble Prince, As there comes light from heaven and words from breath, As there is sense in truth and truth in virtue, I am affianc'd this man's wife as strongly lord, I did but smile till now, Now, good my lord, give me the scope of jus. tice. My patience here is touch'd. I do perceive 286 These poor informal women are no more But instruments of some more mightier mem ber That sets them on. Let me have way, my lord, To find this practice out. Duke. Ay, with my heart; And punish them unto your height of pleaThou foolish friar, and thou pernicious woman, Compact with her that's gone, think'st thon thy oaths, Though they would swear own each particular saint, Were testimonies against his worth and credit That 's seal'd in approbation? You, Lord Escalus, Sit with my cousin. Lend him your kind pains To find out this abuse, whence 't is deriv'd. There is another friar that set them on; Let him be sent for. Fri. P. Would he were here, my lord, for he indeed Hath set the women on to this complaint. Your provost knows the place where he abides, And he may fetch him. Duke. Go, do it instantly. [Exit Provost.] And you, my noble and well-warranted cousin, Whom it concerns to hear this matter forth, 256 Do with your injuries as seems you best, In any chastisement. I for a while will leave you; But stir not you till you have well determin'd Upon these slanderers. Escal. My lord, we 'll do it throughly. (Exit Duke. Signior Lucio, did not you say you knew that Friar Lodowick to be a dishonest person ? Lucio. Cucullus non facit monachum : honest in nothing but in his clothes ; and one that hath spoke most villanous speeches of the Duke. Escal. We shall entreat you to abide here till he come and enforce them against him. We shall find this friar a notable fellow. Lucio. As any in Vienna, on my word. Escal. Call that same Isabel here once again; I would speak with her. [Exit an attendant.} Pray you, my lord, give me leave to question ; you shall see how l’'ll handle her. Lucio. Not better than he, by her own report. Escal. Say you ? Lucio. Marry, sir, I think, if you handled her privately, she would sooner confess. Perchance, publicly, she 'll be asham'd. 260 208 311 216 966 220 281 285 worse. 291 847 298 Re-enter [Officers with) ISABELLA; and Provost with the DUKE (in his friar's habit). Escal. I will go darkly to work with her. Lucio. That's the way, for women are light at midnight. Escal. Come on, mistress. Here's a gentle woman denies all that you have said. Lucio. My lord, here comes the rascal I spoke of ; here with the Provost. Escal. In very good time. Speak not you to him till we call upon you. Lucio. Mum. Escal. Come, sir, did you set these women on to slander Lord Angelo? They have confess'd you did. Duke. "T is false. the devil Be sometime honour'd for his burning throne ! Where is the Duke? 'T is he should hear me speak. Escal. The Duke's in us; and we will hear you speak. Look you speak justly. Duke. Boldly, at least. But, 0, poor souls, Come you to seek the lamb here of the fox? 300 Good night to your redress I Is the Duke gone ? Then is your cause gone too. The Duke's un just Thus to retort your manifest appeal, And put your trial in the villain's mouth Which here you come to accuse. Lucio. This is the rascal; this is he I spoke of. Escal. Why, thou unreverend and unhal lowed friar, Is 't not enough thou hast suborn'd these woTo accuse this worthy man, but, in foul mouth And in the witness of his proper ear, To call him villain, and then to glance from him To the Duke himself, to tax him with injustice ? Take him hence; to the rack with him! We'll touse you Joint by joint, but we will know his purpose. What, "unjust”! Duke. Be not so hot. The Duke 315 Dare no more stretch this finger of mine than he Dare rack his own. His subject am I not, Nor here provincial. My business in this state Made me a looker on here in Vienna, Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble Till it o'er-run the stew ; laws for all faults, 321 But faults so countenanc'd, that the strong statutes Stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop, As much in mock as mark. Escal. Slander to the state! Away with him to prison ! Ang. What can you vouch against him, Sig nior Lucio ? Is this the man that you did tell us of ? Lucio. 'Tis he, my lord. Come hither, goodman bald-pate. Do you know me ? Duke. I remember you, sir, by the sound of 806 your voice. I met you at the prison, in the absence of the Duke. Lucio. O, did you so ? And do you remember what you said of the Duke ? Duke. Most notedly, sir. Lucio. Do you so, sir ? And was the Duke a fleshmonger, a fool, and a coward, as you then reported him to be ? Duke. You must, sir, change persons with me, ere you make that my report. Yon, indeed, spoke so of him, and much more, much Lucio. O thou damnable fellow! Did not I pluck thee by the nose for thy speeches ? Duke. I protest I love the Duke as I love myself. Ang. Hark, how the villain would close now. after his treasonable abuses! Escal. Such a fellow is not to be talk'd withal. Away with him to prison! Where is the Pro vost? Away with him to prison ! Lay bolts enough upon him. Let him speak no more. Away with those giglots too, and with the other confederate companion ! (The Provost lays hands on the Duke.) Duke. Stay, sir; stay awhile. Ang. What, resists he? Help him, Lucio. Lucio. Come, sir ; come, sir ; come, sir; foh, sir ! Why, you bald-pated, lying rascal, you must be hooded, must you ? 'Show your knave's visage, with a pox to you! Show your sheepbiting face, and be hang'd an hour! Will 't not off ? (Pulls off the friar's hood.) *** Duke. Thou art the first knave that e'er mad'st a duke. First Provost, let me bail these gentle three. (To Lucio.] Sneak not away, sir; for the friar Must have a word anon. Lay hold on him. Lucio. This may prove worse than hanging. Duke. (To Escalus.] What you have spoke I pardon. Sit you down; lo's seat] by your leave. O my dread lord, Prince, No longer session hold upon my shame, But let my trial be mine own confession. Immediate sentence, then, and sequent death Is all the grace I beg. Duke. Come hither, Mariana. Say, wast thou e'er contracted to this woman? Ang. I was, my lord. stantly. Do you the office, friar; which consummate, Return him here again. Go with him, Provost. (Exeunt (Angelo, Mariana, Friar Peter, and Provost). and you men $10 373 325 320 385 431 435 441 460 Escal. My lord, I am more amaz'd at his dishonour Than at the strangeness of it. Duke. Come hither, Isabel. Your friar is now your prince. As I was then Advertising and holy to your business, Not changing heart with habit, I am still Attorney'd at your service. Isab. O, give me pardon, 390 That I, your vassal, have employ'd and pain'd Your unknown sovereignty ! Duke. You are pardon'd, Isabel ; And now, dear maid, be you as free to us. Your brother's death, I know, sits at your heart; And you may marvel why I obscur'd myself, Labouring to save his life, and would not rather Make rash remonstrance of my hidden power Than let him so be lost. O most kind maid, It was the swift celerity of his death, Which I did think with slower foot came on, 400 That brain'd my purpose. But, peace be with him ! That life is better life, past fearing death, Than that which lives to fear. Make it your comfort, So happy is your brother. Re-enter ANGELO, MARIANA, FRIAR PETER, and Provost. Isab. I do, my lord. Duke. For this new-married man approach ing here, brother, - An Angelo for Claudio, death for death !'” Haste still pays haste,' and leisure answers leisure; Like doth quit like, and Measure still for MeaThen, Angelo, thy fault's thus manifested; Which, though thou wouldst deny, denies thee vantage. We do condemn thee to the very block Where Claudio stoop'd to death, and with like haste. Away with him! Mari. O my most gracious lord, I hope you will not mock me with a husband. Duke. It is your husband mock'd you with a husband. Consenting to the safeguard of your honour, I thought your marriage fit; else imputation, 126 For that he knew you, might reproach your life And choke your good to come. For his posses sions, 405 Mari, O my dear lord, I crave no other, nor no better man. Duke. Never crave him ; we are definitive. You do but lose your labour. Away with him to death! [To Lucio.] Now, sir, to you. Mari. O my good lord ! Sweet Isabel, take my part! Lend me your knees, and all my life to come I'll lend you all my life to do you service. Duke. Against all sense you do importune her. Should she kneel down in mercy of this fact, Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break, And take her hence in horror. Mari. Isabel, Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me. Hold up your hands, say nothing; 1 'll speak all. They say, best men are moulded out of faults, And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad; so may my husband. 446 O Isabel, will you not lend a knee? Duke. 'He dies for Claudio's death. Isab. [Kneeling.] Most bounteous sir, Look, if it please you, on this man condemn'd, As if my brother liv'd. I partly think A due sincerity governed his deeds, Till he did look on me. Since it is so, Let him not die. My brother had but justice, In that he did the thing for which he died ; For Angelo, His act did not o'ertake his bad intent, And must be buried but as an intent That perish'd by the way. Thoughts are no subjects; Intents, but merely thoughts. Mari. Merely, my lord. Duke. Your suit's unprofitable ; stand up, I say. It was commanded so. Duke. Had you a special warrant for the deed ? Prov. No, my good lord ; it was by private message. Duke. For which I do discharge you of your office : Pardon me, noble lord. What's he? His name is Barnardine. Duke. I would thou hadst done so by Claudio. Go fetch him hither; let me look upon him. [Exit Provost.) Escal. I am sorry, one so learned and so wise As you, Lord Angelo, have still appear'd, Should slip so grossly, both in the heat of blood, And lack of temper'd judgement afterward. 410 400 415 sure. 405 490 470 476 480 Ang. I am sorry that such sorrow I procure ; And so deep sticks it in my penitent heart That I crave death more willingly than mercy. 'T is my deserving, and I do entreat it. Re-enter Provost, with BARNARDINE, CLAUDIO (muffied), and JULJET. Duke. Which is that Barnardine ? Prov. This, my lord. Duke. There was a friar told me of this man. Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul, 485 That apprehends no further than this world, And squar'st thy life according. Thou 'rt con demn'd; But, for those earthly faults, I quit them all; And pray thee take this mercy to provide For better times to come. Friar, advise him ; 490 I leave him to your hand. What mufi'd fel low's that? Prov. This is another prisoner that I sav'd, Who should have died when Claudio lost his head; As like almost to Claudio as himself. JUnmuffles Claudio.) Duke. (To Isabella.) If he be like your brother, for his sake Is he pardon'd; and, for your lovely sakeGive me your hand and say you will be mine He is my brother too. But fitter time for that. By this Lord Angelo perceives he 's safe ; Methinks I see a quickening in his eye. Well, Angelo, your evil quits you well. Look that you love your wife; her worth worth yours. I find an apt remission in myself ; And yet here's one in place I cannot pardon. [To Lucio.) You, sirrah, that knew me for a fool, a coward, Lucio. Faith, my lord, I spoke it but according to the trick. If you will hang me for it, you may; but I had rather it would please you I might be whipp'd. Duke. Whipp'd first, sir, and hang'd after. Proclaim it, Provost, round about the city, Is any woman wrong'd by this lewd fellow, 515 As I have heard him swear himself there's one Whom he begot with child, let her appear, And he shall marry her. The nuptial finish'd, Let him be whipp'd and hang'd. Lucio. I beseech your Highness do not marry me to a whore. Your Highness said even now, I made you a duke; good my lord, do not recompense me in making me a cuckold. Duke. Upon mine honour, thou shalt marry her. Thy slanders I forgive; and therewithal Remit thy other forfeits. Take him to prison; And see our pleasure herein executed. Lucio. Marrying a punk, my lord, is pressing to death, whipping, and hanging. Duke. Slandering a prince deserves it. Ereunt Officers with Lucio.] She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you re store. Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo! I have confess'd her and I know her virtue. Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness; There's more behind that is more gratulate, 585 Thanks, Provost, for thy care and secrecy; We shall employ thee in a worthier place. Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home The head of 'Ragozine for Claudio's; The offence pardons itself. Dear Isabel, I have a motion much imports your good; Whereto if you 'll a willing ear incline, What's mine is yours and what is yours is mine. So, bring us to our palace, where we'll show What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know. (Exeunt.) 555 495 600 605 BOS PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE PERICLES is first mentioned in an entry to Edward Blount in the Stationers' Register, May 20, 1608. Blount does not seem to have issued the play, but in the following year a pirated quarto was published with Shakespeare's name on the title-page, and this was reprinted in 1609, 1611, 1619, 1630, and 1635. It was not included in the First or the Second Folio, but appeared with six other additional plays, all of which were spurious, in the second impression of the Third Folio in 1664, the text following that of the Sixth Quarto. The text of the First Quarto is the original authority for all succeeding editions, and, though very corrupt, is here followed, with many corrections from later editors, especially Malone. Owing, however, to the doubtful anthenticity of much of the play, it has been thought advisable to be more than usually conservative in the treatment of the text. The story of Apollonius of Tyre, of which the play is a dramatized version, is one of the most widely diffused themes in fiction. The earliest extant form is a Latin prose Historia, supposed to have been compiled from Greek sources about the fifth century, and found in many MSS., the earliest belonging to the ninth or tenth century. The versions used in the play are that of Gower in his Confessio Amantis, book viiI, and that of Laurence Twine in his Patterne of Painful Adventures (Stationers' Register, 1576); but the diffusion of the story throughout all Europe makes it possible that details from other versions may have reached the authors. The chief features appearing for the first time in the play are the substitution of a tournament for the ball game in which the hero distinguishes himself at Pentapolis ; the playful trickery of Simonides in the scene where the marriage is arranged; the details of the scenes in the brothel; and the omission of the revenges of the hero npon the bawds and the treacherous fosterparents of Marina. Only the last of these changes occurs in the part generally ascribed to Shakespeare. The absence of Pericles from the first two Folios, the inequality of workmanship, and the differences in metrical style in the play as we have it, account for the general opinion that it is only in part Shakespeare's. The parts most generally suspected are Acts 1 and 11, Scenes ii, v, and vi of Act iv, and all the Choruses spoken by Gower. The remaining parts are almost unanimously attributed to Shakespeare. There is, however, no general agreement as to the manner in which these elements came to be united. Some have held that Shakespeare revised an older play, rewriting the later acts ; while the more recent tendency is to regard Pericles as the completion by two minor authors of a play on Marina which Shakespeare had left anfinished. But the occurrence even in the earlier acts of passages and phrases with a Shakespearean ring points to the more subtle and, judging by modern practice, more usual method of collaboration, by which joint authors each discuss and retouch the whole play. It is widely accepted that the author mainly responsible for Acts 1 and 11 and the Choruses was that George Wilkins who, in 1608, published a novel, “ The Painful Adventures of Pericles Prince of Tyre. Being the true History of the Play of Pericles, as it was lately presented by the worthy and ancient poet Iohn Gower." While there is nothing unlikely in this, it can hardly be regarded as absolutely proved. Still less certain is the conjecture that the prose scenes in Act Iy are the work of W. Rowley, elsewhere a collaborator with Wilkins. Indeed, the evidence against the Shakespearean authorship of these scenes is by no means complete, and it cannot be denied that without them the conception of the character and spirit of Marina is much less definite. The absence of allusion to these scenes in the dialogue after the meeting of Pericles and Marina is the most significant point in favor of the theory of a third author. It is to be noted that the Choruses are not all in the same class. The first three and that occurring in v. ü. are in eight-syllabled verse, and the earlier ones have occasional archaisms to fit them to Gower. Those in Act iv and the beginning and end of Act v are in ten-syllabled verse, and are somewhat less crnde in style. All this points, as before indicated, to a much less absolute division f parts among the collaborators than is usually made out. |