She was of Tyrus, the king's daughter,

On whom foul death hath made this slaughter;
Marina was she call'd; and at her birth,

Thetis 21, being proud, swallow'd some part o' the earth:
Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,

Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd:
Wherefore she does (and swears she'll never stint 22),
Make raging battery upon shores of flint.
No visor does become black villainy,
So well as soft and tender flattery.
Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,
And bear his courses to be ordered

By lady fortune; while our scene must play 23
His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day,
In her unholy service. Patience then,
And think you now are all in Mitylen.

[Exit.

SCENE V. Mitylene. A Street before the Brothel. Enter, from the Brothel, Two Gentlemen.

1 Gent. Did you ever hear the like?

2 Gent. No, nor never shall do in such a place as this, she being once gone.

1 Gent. But to have divinity preached there! did you ever dream of such a thing?

2 Gent. No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdyhouses: shall we go hear the vestals sing?

21 The inscription alludes to the violent storm which accompanied the birth of Marina; at which time the sea, proudly overswelling its bounds, swallowed, as is usual in such hurricanes, some part of the earth. The poet ascribed the swelling of the sea to the pride which Thetis felt at the birth of Marina in her element; and supposes that the earth, being afraid to be overflowed, bestowed this birth-child of Thetis on the heavens; and that Thetis in revenge, makes raging battery against the shores.—Mason. 22 i. e. never cease.

23 The old copy-" while our steare must play." Mr. Knight reads tears.

1 Gent. I'll do any thing now that is virtuous; but I am out of the road of rutting, for ever.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. The same. A Room in the Brothel.

Enter Pander, Bawd, and BoULT.

Pand. Well, I had rather than twice the worth of her, she had ne'er come here.

Bawd. Fye, fye upon her: she is 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, if he should cheapen a kiss of her."

Boult. 'Faith, I must ravish her, or she'll disfurnish us of all our cavaliers, and make all our swearers priests.

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

the

Bawd. 'Faith, there's no way to be rid on't, but by way to the

disguised.

pox. Here comes the Lord Lysimachus,

Boult. We should have both lord and lown, if the peevish baggage would but give way to customers.

Enter LYSIMACHUS.

Lys. How now? How1 a dozen of virginities? Bawd. Now, the gods to-bless your honour! Boult. I am glad to see your honour in good health.

This is Justice Shallow's mode of asking the price of a different kind of commodity ::

"How a score of ewes now?"

2 The use of to in composition with verbs is Gower and Chaucer. See also vol. i. p. 273, n

you that your

How

now, wholedeal withal,

Lys. You may so; 'tis the better for resorters stand upon sound legs.

some iniquity? Have you that a man may and defy the surgeon?

Bawd. We have here one, sir, if she wouldthere never came her like in Mitylene.

-but

Lys. If she'd do the deed of darkness, thou would'st

say.

Bawd. Your honour knows what 'tis to say, well enough.

Lys. Well; call forth, call forth.

Boult. For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you shall see a rose; and she were a rose indeed, if she had but

Lys. What, pr'ythee?

Boult. O, sir, I can be modest.

Lys. That dignifies the renown of a bawd, no less than it gives a good report to an anchor3 to be chaste.

Enter MARINA.

Bawd. Here comes that which grows to the stalk; -never plucked yet, I can assure you. Is she not a fair creature?

Lys. 'Faith, she would serve after a long voyage at sea. Well, there's for you ;-leave us.

Bawd. I beseech your honour, give me leave: a word, and I'll have done presently.

3 The old copy, which both Steevens and Malone considered corrupt in this place, reads, "That dignifies the renown of a bawd, no less than it gives good report to a number to be chaste," which, in my mind has little meaning. I have ventured to substitute an anchor, i. e. A HERMIT or anchoret. The word being formerly written ancher, anchor, and even anker, it is evident that in old MSS. it might readily be mistaken for a number. The word is used by the Player Queen in Hamlet, Act iii. Sc. 2:"An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope." It is evident that some character contrasted to bawd is required by the context.

Lys. I beseech you, do

Bawd. First, I would have you note, this is an honourable man. [To MAR. whom she takes aside. Mar. I desire to find him so, that I may worthily note him.

Bawd. Next, he's the governour of this country, and a man whom I am bound to.

Mar. If he govern the country, you are bound to him indeed; but how honourable he is in that, I know

not.

4

Bawd. 'Pray you, without any more virginal fencing, will you use him kindly? He will line your apron with gold.

Mar. What he will do graciously, I will thankfully receive.

Lys. Have you done?

Bawd. My lord, she's not paced 5 yet; you must take some pains to work her to your manage. Come, we will leave his honour and her together.

[Exeunt Bawd, PANDER, and BOULT. Lys. Go thy ways.-Now, pretty one, how long have you been at this trade?

Mar. What trade, sir?

Lys. What I cannot name but I shall offend. Mar. I cannot be offended with my trade. Please you to name it.

Lys. How long have you been of this profession? Mar. Ever since I can remember.

Lys. Did you go to it so young? Were you a gamester at five, or at seven?

Mar. Earlier too, sir, if now I be one.

This uncommon adjective is again used in Coriolanus:-
"The virginal palms of your daughters."

5 A term from the equestrian art; but still in familiar language applied to persons chiefly in a bad sense with its compound thorough-paced.

6

i. e. a wanton. See vol. iii. p. 338, note 22.

Lys. Why, the house you dwell in, proclaims you to be a creature of sale.

Mar. Do you know this house to be a place of such resort, and will come into it? I hear say, you are of honourable parts, and are the governour of this place. Lys. Why, hath your principal made known unto who I am?

you

Mar. Who is my principal?

Lys. 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. Come,

come.

Mar. If you were born to honour, show it now; If put upon you, make the judgment good That thought you worthy of it.

Lys. How's this? how's this?-Some more ;-be sage7.

Mar. For me,

That am a maid, though most ungentle fortune
Hath plac'd me here within this loathsome stie,
Where, since I came, diseases have been sold
Dearer than physick,-O that the good gods
Would set me free from this unhallow'd place,
Though they did change me to the meanest bird
That flies i' the purer air!

I did not think

Lys. Thou could'st have spoke so well; ne'er dream'd thou could'st.

Had I brought hither a corrupted mind,

Thy speech had alter'd it. Hold, here's gold for thee:

7 Lysimachus must be supposed to say this sneeringly,—" Proceed with your fine moral discourse."