The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)

Home > Fiction > The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) > Page 346
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 346

by William Shakespeare


  It's like a coffin, sir.

  CERIMON

  Whate'er it be,

  'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight:

  If the sea's stomach be o'ercharged with gold,

  'Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us.

  Whatever it is,

  it's amazingly heavy. Tear it open at once:

  if the sea has too much gold in its stomach,

  it's a bit of luck that it's belched some up for us.

  Second Gentleman

  'Tis so, my lord.

  That's right, my lord.

  CERIMON

  How close 'tis caulk'd and bitumed!

  Did the sea cast it up?

  How tightly it's waterproofed!

  Did the sea throw it up?

  First Servant

  I never saw so huge a billow, sir,

  As toss'd it upon shore.

  I never saw such a great wave, sir,

  as the one which threw it onto the shore.

  CERIMON

  Wrench it open;

  Soft! it smells most sweetly in my sense.

  Tear it open;

  well! It smells very sweet to me.

  Second Gentleman

  A delicate odour.

  A delicate odour.

  CERIMON

  As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it.

  O you most potent gods! what's here? a corse!

  As sweet as I ever smelt. So, off with the lid.

  Oh you powerful gods! What's this? A corpse!

  First Gentleman

  Most strange!

  Very strange!

  CERIMON

  Shrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and entreasured

  With full bags of spices! A passport too!

  Apollo, perfect me in the characters!

  Reads from a scroll

  'Here I give to understand,

  If e'er this coffin drive a-land,

  I, King Pericles, have lost

  This queen, worth all our mundane cost.

  Who finds her, give her burying;

  She was the daughter of a king:

  Besides this treasure for a fee,

  The gods requite his charity!'

  If thou livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart

  That even cracks for woe! This chanced tonight.

  Wrapped in royal robes; embalmed and packed round

  with full bags of spices! A passport too!

  Apollo, help me read what it says!

  ‘I would like you to understand,

  if this coffin ever reaches land,

  I, King Pericles, have lost

  this priceless queen.

  If you find her then bury her;

  she was the daughter of a king.

  Take this treasure as your fee,

  and may the gods bless you for your charity!’

  If you are alive, Pericles, your heart

  must be broken with sorrow! This happened last night.

  Second Gentleman

  Most likely, sir.

  Very probably, sir.

  CERIMON

  Nay, certainly to-night;

  For look how fresh she looks! They were too rough

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

  Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet.

  Exit a Servant

  Death may usurp on nature many hours,

  And yet the fire of life kindle again

  The o'erpress'd spirits. I heard of an Egyptian

  That had nine hours lien dead,

  Who was by good appliance recovered.

  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,

  Cause it to sound, beseech you.

  The viol once more: how thou stirr'st, thou block!

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

  Gentlemen.

  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

  Into life's flower again!

  Yes, it was certainly last night;

  look how fresh she looks! They were too hasty

  when they threw her into the sea. Light a fire indoors;

  bring me all the boxes from my cupboard.

  Death can overcome a person for many hours,

  and yet the sufferer can still

  be brought back to life. I heard of an Egyptian

  who lay dead for nine hours,

  who was brought back to life with good treatment.

  Well done, well done; the fire and cloths.

  I beg you, play what quiet

  and sad music we have.

  The violin again; you thickheaded slowcoach!

  Play the music! Please, give her room.

  Gentlemen, this queen will live.

  The warm breath of life comes from her.

  She has not been in a coma for more than five hours;

  look, she's starting to breathe again!

  First Gentleman

  The heavens,

  Through you, increase our wonder and set up

  Your fame forever.

  The gods,

  acting through you, astonish us and make you

  famous forever.

  CERIMON

  She is alive; behold,

  Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels

  Which Pericles hath lost,

  Begin to part their fringes of bright gold;

  The diamonds of a most praised water

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

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

  Rare as you seem to be.

  She moves

  She is alive; look,

  her eyelids, covers for those heavenly jewels

  which Pericles has lost,

  begin to open their bright gold edges;

  the most wonderful diamonds

  appear, and the world is twice as rich. Live,

  and make us weep to hear your story, fair creature,

  unique as you seem to be.

  THAISA

  O dear Diana,

  Where am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?

  Oh dear Diana,

  where am I? Where's my lord? What world am I in?

  Second Gentleman

  Is not this strange?

  Isn't this strange?

  First Gentleman

  Most rare.

  Very unusual.

  CERIMON

  Hush, my gentle neighbours!

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

  Get linen: now this matter must be look'd to,

  For her relapse is mortal. Come, come;

  And AEsculapius guide us!

  Exeunt, carrying her away

  Quiet, my gentle neighbours!

  Give me a hand; carry her to the next room.

  Get sheets: we must treat her at once,

  for a relapse would be fatal. Come on, come on;

  and let the God of healing guide us.

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

  PERICLES

  Most honour'd 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

  Make up the rest upon you!

  Most honoured Cleon, I have to go;

  my twelve months are up, and the peace of Tyre

  is disturbed with constant bickering. I thank you

  and your lady from the bottom of my heart! May the gods

  make up what I'm not fit to give!

  CLEON

  Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,

  Yet glance full wanderingly on us.

  The arrows of
fate, although they have fatally wounded you,

  have also wounded us as they rebound.

  DIONYZA

  O your sweet queen!

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

  To have bless'd mine eyes with her!

  Oh your sweet queen!

  I wish the stern fates have allowed you to bring her here,

  to have delighted my sight!

  PERICLES

  We cannot but obey

  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

  The infant of your care; beseeching you

  To give her princely training, that she may be

  Manner'd as she is born.

  We can only obey

  the will of the gods. I could rage and roar

  like the sea she is buried in, but in the end

  nothing would change. My gentle baby Marina,

  whom I have named after the fact that she was born at sea,

  I ask you to show your kindness to; I will leave

  the child in your care; I beg you

  to bring her up as a princess, so that she can

  have manners which fit with the status she is born to.

  CLEON

  Fear not, my lord, but think

  Your grace, that fed my country with your corn,

  For which the people's 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:

  But if to that my nature need a spur,

  The gods revenge it upon me and mine,

  To the end of generation!

  Do not worry, my lord; be assured

  that you are still remembered in the people's prayers

  for feeding my country with your corn,

  and they will remember your child too. If I

  was horrible enough to neglect her the common people,

  whom you saved, would force me to do my duty:

  but if I should ever need such a reminder,

  may the gods punish me and my family for it

  to the end of time!

  PERICLES

  I believe you;

  Your honour and your goodness teach me to't,

  Without your vows. Till she be married, madam,

  By bright Diana, whom we honour, all

  Unscissor'd shall this hair of mine remain,

  Though I show ill in't. So I take my leave.

  Good madam, make me blessed in your care

  In bringing up my child.

  I believe you;

  your honour and goodness show me you will do it,

  without your promises. Until she is married, madam,

  I swear by Diana, whom we worship, that my

  hair shall remain uncut,

  although it makes me look bad. And so I must leave.

  Good madam, give me blessings through your care

  as you bring up my child.

  DIONYZA

  I have one myself,

  Who shall not be more dear to my respect

  Than yours, my lord.

  I have a child myself,

  and yours will be treated exactly

  the same, my lord.

  PERICLES

  Madam, my thanks and prayers.

  Madam, I give you my thanks and prayers.

  CLEON

  We'll bring your grace e'en to the edge o' the shore,

  Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune and

  The gentlest winds of heaven.

  We'll go with your grace up to the edge of the sea,

  where we'll hand you over to the now calm Neptune and

  the gentlest winds of heaven.

  PERICLES

  I will embrace

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

  Lychorida, no tears:

  Look to your little mistress, on whose grace

  You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord.

  Exeunt

  I will accept

  your offer gladly. Come, dearest madam. Oh, don't cry,

  Lychordia, don't cry:

  look after your little mistress, who will look after

  you in the future. Come, my lord.

  Enter CERIMON and THAISA

  CERIMON

  Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels,

  Lay with you in your coffer: which are now

  At your command. Know you the character?

  Madam, this letter, and some very good jewels,

  were in your coffin with you: these are now

  yours. Do you know the handwriting?

  THAISA

  It is my lord's.

  That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember,

  Even on my eaning time; but whether there

  Deliver'd, by the holy gods,

  I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles,

  My wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again,

  A vestal livery will I take me to,

  And never more have joy.

  It is my husband's.

  I can definitely remember going on a boat,

  even though I was pregnant; but whether I gave

  birth there, I swear

  I cannot say for sure. But since I shall never again see

  King Pericles, my beloved husband,

  I shall live the life of a handmaiden in the temple,

  and never know happiness again.

  CERIMON

  Madam, if this you purpose as ye speak,

  Diana's temple is not distant far,

  Where you may abide till your date expire.

  Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine

  Shall there attend you.

  Madam, if you mean to do as you say,

  Diana's temple is not far off,

  and you can live there until your life is over.

  Furthermore, if you wish it, a niece of mine

  will serve you there.

  THAISA

  My recompense is thanks, that's all;

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

  Exeunt

  All I can give you in return is my thanks;

  but my gratitude is great, though the gift is small.

  Enter GOWER

  GOWER

  Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre,

  Welcomed and settled to his own desire.

  His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,

  Unto Diana there a votaress.

  Now to Marina bend your mind,

  Whom our fast-growing scene must find

  At Tarsus, and by Cleon train'd

  In music, letters; who hath gain'd

  Of education all the grace,

  Which makes her both the heart and place

  Of general wonder. But, alack,

  That monster envy, oft the wrack

  Of earned praise, Marina's life

  Seeks to take off by treason's knife.

  And in this kind hath our Cleon

  One daughter, and a wench full grown,

  Even ripe for marriage-rite; this maid

  Hight Philoten: and it is said

  For certain in our story, she

  Would ever with Marina be:

  Be't when she weaved the sleided silk

  With fingers long, small, white as milk;

  Or when she would with sharp needle wound

  The cambric, which she made more sound

  By hurting it; or when to the lute

  She sung, and made the night-bird mute,

  That still records with moan; or when

  She would with rich and constant pen

  Vail to her mistress Dian; still

  This Philoten contends in skill />
  With absolute Marina: so

  With the dove of Paphos might the crow

  Vie feathers white. Marina gets

  All praises, which are paid as debts,

  And not as given. This so darks

  In Philoten all graceful marks,

  That Cleon's wife, with envy rare,

  A present murderer does prepare

  For good Marina, that her daughter

  Might stand peerless by this slaughter.

  The sooner her vile thoughts to stead,

  Lychorida, our nurse, is dead:

  And cursed Dionyza hath

  The pregnant instrument of wrath

  Prest for this blow. The unborn event

  I do commend to your content:

  Only I carry winged time

  Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;

  Which never could I so convey,

  Unless your thoughts went on my way.

  Dionyza does appear,

  With Leonine, a murderer.

  Exit

  Now imagine Pericles has arrived at Tyre,

  welcomed and following his destiny.

  We leave his sad queen at Ephesus,

  devoted to the worship of Diana.

  Now turn your mind to Marina,

  whom our quick moving show discovers

  at Tarsus, trained in the study of music

  by Cleon; she has taken on

  all the grace she has been taught,

  which makes her the very centre

  of heartfelt wonder. But, alas,

  the monster jealousy, which often attacks

  well earned praise, tries to take

  Marina's life through treason;

  Cleon has another of the same kind,

  one daughter, a full-grown lass, ready for marriage.

  This girl is called Philoten; and our story

  tells us for certain, that she

  was always with Marina:

  whether when she weaved the threads of silk

 

‹ Prev