CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER IX.PERIOD OF SHAKSPEARE'S COMMENCEMENT AS A DRAMATIC POETâ€”CHRONOLOGICAL ARRANGEMENT OF HIS GENUINE PLAYSâ€”OBSERVATIONS ONPERICLES; ON THECOMEDY OF ERRORS; ONLOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST; ONHENRY THE SIXTH, PART THE FIRST; ONHENRY THE SIXTH, PART THE SECOND, AND ONA MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAMâ€”DISSERTATION ON THE FAIRY MYTHOLOGY, AND ON THE MODIFICATIONS WHICH IT RECEIVED FROM THE GENIUS OF SHAKSPEARE.

PERIOD OF SHAKSPEARE'S COMMENCEMENT AS A DRAMATIC POETâ€”CHRONOLOGICAL ARRANGEMENT OF HIS GENUINE PLAYSâ€”OBSERVATIONS ONPERICLES; ON THECOMEDY OF ERRORS; ONLOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST; ONHENRY THE SIXTH, PART THE FIRST; ONHENRY THE SIXTH, PART THE SECOND, AND ONA MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAMâ€”DISSERTATION ON THE FAIRY MYTHOLOGY, AND ON THE MODIFICATIONS WHICH IT RECEIVED FROM THE GENIUS OF SHAKSPEARE.

We have, in a former portion of this work[256:A], assigned our reasons for concluding that, on Shakspeare's arrival in London, about the year 1586 or 1587, hisimmediateemployment was that of an actor; and we now proceed to consider the much agitated question as to the era of hisfirstattempts indramaticpoetry. That this was subsequent to the production of hisVenus and Adonis, we possess his own authority, when he informs us that the poem just mentioned wasthe first heir of his invention; and though we enjoy no testimony of a like kind, or emanating from a similar source, as to the period of his earliest effort in dramatic literature, yet, if we be correct in referring the composition of his Venus and Adonis to the interval elapsing between the years 1587 and 1590[256:B], the epoch of hisfirst playcannot, with any probability, be placed either much anterior or subsequent to the year 1590. That it occurrednotbefore this date, may be presumed from recollecting, that, in the first place, theprosecutionof his amatory poem and theacquirementof his profession as an actor, might be sufficient to occupy an interval of two years; and, in the second place, that no contemporary previous to 1592, neither Webbe in 1586[256:C], nor Puttenham in 1589[256:D], nor Harrington in February,1591[257:A], has noticed or even alluded to any theatrical production of our author.

That it took place, either in 1590, or very soon after that year, must be inferred both from tradition, and from written testimony. Aubrey tells us, from the former source, that "he beganearlytomake essays in dramatique poetry, which at that time was very lowe, and his plays took well[257:B];" and from the nature and extent of the allusions in the following passage from Robert Greene'sGroatsworth of Witte bought with a Million of Repentance, there can be no doubt that, not only one play, but that several had been written and prepared for the stage by our poet, anterior to September, 1592.

It appears that this tract of Greene's was completed a very short time previous to his death, which happened on the third of the month of the year just mentioned, and that Henry Chettle, "upon whoseperill"[257:C]it had been entered in the Stationers' register on September the 20th, 1592, became editor and publisher of it before the ensuing December.[257:D]

Greene had been the intimate associate ofMarlowe,Lodge, andPeele,and he concludes hisGroatsworth of Wittewith an address to these bards, the object of which is, to dissuade them from any further reliance on the stage for support, and to warn them against the ingratitude and selfishness of players: "trust them not;" he exclaims, "for there is anupstart croweBEAUTIFIED WITH OUR FEATHERS, that with histygres heart wrapt in a player's hide, supposes hee is as well able to bombaste out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absoluteJohannes fac-totum, is in his own conceit the onlyShake-scenein a countrey."[257:E]

To Mr. Tyrwhit we are indebted for the first application of thispassage to Shakspeare, who, as might naturally be expected, feeling himself hurt at Greene's unmerited sarcasm, clearly pointing to him by the designation ofthe only Shake-scene in a country, and not well pleased with Chettle's officious publication of it, expressed his sentiments so openly as to draw forth from the repentant editor, about three months after his edition of the Groatsworth of Witte, an apology, which adds further weight to the inferences which we wish to deduce from the language of Greene. In this interesting little pamphlet which, under the title ofKind Harts Dreame, we have had occasion to quote more at large in an earlier part of the volume[258:A], the author, after slightly noticing Marlowe, one of the offended parties, and speaking highly of the demeanour, professional ability, and moral integrity of Shakspeare, closes the sentence and the eulogium by mentioning "HIS FACETIOUS GRACE OF WRITING, THAT APPROVES HIS ART."

From these passages in Greene and Chettle, combined with the traditionary relation of Aubrey, we may legitimately infer, first, thathe had written for the stage before the year 1592; secondly, thathe had written during this period with considerable success, for Aubrey tells us, thathis plays took well, and Chettle that hisgrace in writing approved his art; thirdly, thathe had written both tragedy and comedy, Greene reporting, that he waswell able to bombast out a blank verse, and Chettle speaking of his "facetiousgrace in writing;" fourthly, thathe had altered and brought on the stage some of the separate or joint productions of Marlowe, Greene, Lodge, and Peele; the words of Greene, where he terms Shakspeare a "crowe beautified withOURfeathers, that with his tygres heart wrapt in a player's hide, supposes," &c. implying, not only that he had furtively acquired fame by appropriating their productions, but referring to a particular play, through the medium of quotation, as a proof of the assertion, the wordstygres heart wrapt in a player's hidebeing a parody of a line in theThirdPart of King Henry the Sixth: or what we, for reasons which will be speedily assigned, have thought proper to call theSecond Part,â€”

"O, tiger's heart, wrapp'd in a woman's hide;"[259:A]

fifthly,that he had already excited, as the usual consequence of success, no small degree of jealousy and envy; hence Greene has querelously bestowed upon him the appellation ofupstart, and has taxed him with a monopolising spirit, an accusation which leads us to believe, sixthly,that he had written or prepared for the stageSEVERAL PLAYSanterior to September, 1592; this last inference, which we conceive to be fairly deduced from the description of our poet asan absolute Johannes fac-totumwith regard to the stage, will immediately bring forward again the question as to the precise era of our author's earliest drama.

Now to warrant the charge implied by the expression,an absolute fac-totum, we must necessarily allow a sufficient lapse of time before September, 1592, in order to admit, not only of Shakspeare's altering a play for the stage, but of his composing either altogether, or in part, bothtragedyandcomedyon a basis of his own choice, so that he might, as he actually did, appear to Greene, in the capacities ofcorrector,improver, andoriginal writerof plays, to be a perfectfac-totum.

And, if we further reflect, that the composition of theGroatsworth of Wittemost probably, from indisposition, occupied its author one month, as he complains ofweakness scarce suffering him to writetowards the conclusion of his tract, and that we cannot reasonably conclude less thantwo yearsto have been employed by Shakspeare in the execution of the functions assigned him by Greene; the period for the production of his first drama, will necessarily be thrown back to the August of the year 1590; an era to which no objection, from contradictory testimony, can with any show of probability apply; for,though Harrington, whoseApologie for Poetriewas entered on the Stationers' books in February, 1591, has not noticed Shakspeare, yet, if we consider that this treatise was, in all likelihood, completed previous to the close of 1590, we shall not wonder that a play, performed but three or four months before the critic finished his labours, unappropriated too, there is reason to think, by the public at that time, and unacknowledged by the author, should be passed over in silence.

Having thus endeavoured to fix the era of our poet's commencement as a dramatic writer, it remains to ascertain which was thefirst dramathat, eitherwhollyor ingreat part, issued from his pen; a subject, like the former, certainly surrounded with many difficulties, liable to many errors, and only to be illustrated by a patient investigation of, and a well-weighed deduction from, minute circumstances and conflicting probabilities.

The reasons which have induced us to fix uponPericles, as the result of a laborious, if not a successful, enquiry, will be offered, with much diffidence, under the first article of the following Chronological Arrangement, which, though deviating, in several instances, from the chronologies of both Chalmers and Malone, will not, it is hoped, on that account be found needlessly singular, nor unproductive of a closer approximation to probability, and, perchance, to truth.

For the sake of perspicuity, it has been thought eligible to prefix, in a tabular form, theorderwhich has been adopted, the observations confirmatory of its arrangement being classed according to the series thus drawn out; and here it may be necessary to premise, that the substance of our commentary, with the exception of what may be requisite to establish a few new dates, will be chiefly confined to critical remarks on each play, relieved by intervening dissertations on the super-human agency of the poet.

Chronological Table.

1.Pericles, 1590. That thegreater part, if not the whole, of this drama, was thecomposition of Shakspeare, and that it is to be considered as hisearliestdramatic effort, are positions, of which the first has been rendered highly probable by the elaborate disquisitions of Messrs. Steevens and Malone, and may possibly be placed in a still clearer point of view by a more condensed and lucid arrangement of the testimony already produced, and by a further discussion of the merits and peculiarities of the play itself; while the second will, we trust, receive additional support by inferences legitimately deduced from a comprehensive survey of scattered and hitherto insulated premises.

The evidence required for the establishment of a high degree of probability under the first of these positions necessarily divides itself into two parts; theexternaland theinternalevidence. The former commences with the original edition ofPericles, which was entered on the Stationers' books by Edward Blount, one of the printers of the first folio edition of Shakspeare's plays, on the 20th of May[262:A], 1608, but did not pass the press until the subsequent year, when it was published, not, as might have been expected, by Blount, but by one Henry Gosson, who placed Shakspeare's name at full length in the title-page.

It is worthy of remark, also, that this edition was entered at Stationers' Hall together withAntony and Cleopatra, and that it, and the three following editions, which were also in quarto, were styled in the title-page,the much admired play of Pericles. As the entry, however, was by Blount, and the edition by Gosson, it is probable, as Mr. Malone has remarked, that the former had been anticipated by the latter, through the procurance of a play-house copy.[263:A]It may also be added, thatPericleswas performed at Shakspeare's own theatre,The Globe. The next ascription of this play to our author, is found in a poem entitledThe Times Displayed in Six Sestyads, by S. Sheppard, 4to. 1646, dedicated to Philip Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, and containing, in the ninth stanza of the sixth Sestiad, a positive assertion of Shakspeare's property in this drama:â€”

"See him whose tragick sceans EuripidesDoth equal, and with Sophocles we mayComparegreat Shakspear; AristophanesNever like him his fancy could display,Witnessthe Prince of Tyre,HISPericles."[263:B]

"See him whose tragick sceans Euripides

Doth equal, and with Sophocles we may

Comparegreat Shakspear; Aristophanes

Never like him his fancy could display,

Witnessthe Prince of Tyre,HISPericles."[263:B]

This high eulogium onPericlesreceived a direct contradiction very shortly afterwards from the pen of an obscure poet named Tatham, who bears, however, an equally strong testimony as to Shakspeare being the author of the piece, which he thus presumes to censure:â€”

"But Shakespeare, the plebeian driller, wasFounder'd inHISPericles, and must not pass."[263:C]

"But Shakespeare, the plebeian driller, was

Founder'd inHISPericles, and must not pass."[263:C]

To these testimonies in 1646 and 1652, full and unqualified, and made at no distant period from the death of the bard to whom they relate, we have to add the still more forcible and striking declarationof Dryden, who tells us, in 1677, and in words as strong and as decisive as he could select, that

"Shakspeare'sown muse,HISPericlesfirst bore."[264:A]

The only drawback on this accumulation of external evidence is the omission ofPericlesin the first edition of our author's works; a negative fact which can have little weight when we recollect, that both the memory and judgment of Heminge and Condell, the poet's editors, were so defective, that they hadforgotten Troilus and Cressida, until the entire folio and the table of contents had been printed, and admittedTitus Andronicus, and theHistorical Play of King Henry the Sixth, probably for no other reasons, than that the former had been, from its unmerited popularity, brought forward by Shakspeare on his own theatre, though, there is sufficient internal evidence to prove, without the addition of a single line; and because the latter, with a similar predilection of the lower orders in its favour, had, on that account, obtained a similar, though not a more laboured attention from our poet, and was therefore deemed by his editors, though very unnecessarily, a requisite introduction to the two plays on the reign of that monarch which Shakspeare had really new-modelled.

It cannot, consequently, be surprising that, as they had forgottenTroilus and Cressidauntil the folio had been printed, they should have also forgottenPericlesuntil the same folio had been in circulation, and when it was too late to correct the omission; an error which the second folio has, without doubt or examination, blindly copied.

If the external evidence in support of Shakspeare being the author of the greater part of this play be striking, theinternalmust be pronounced still more so, and, indeed, absolutely decisive of the question; for, whether we consider the style and phraseology, or theimagery, sentiment, and humour, the approximation to our author's uncontested dramas appears so close, frequent, and peculiar, as to stamp irresistible conviction on the mind.

The result has accordingly been such as might have been predicted under the assumption of the play being genuine; for the more it has been examined, the more clearly has Shakspeare's large property in it been established. It is curious, indeed, to note the increased tone of confidence which each successive commentator has assumed in proportion as he has weighed the testimony arising from the piece itself.Rowe, in his first edition, says, "it isownedthat some part ofPericlescertainlywas written by him, particularly the last act;"Dr. Farmerobserves that the hand of Shakspeare may beseenin the latter part of the play;Dr. Percyremarks, that "more of the phraseology used in the genuine dramas of Shakspeare prevails inPericles, than in any of the other six doubted plays[265:A]," and, of the two rival restorers of this drama,SteevensandMalone, the former declares;â€”"I admit without reserve that Shakspeare,

â€”â€”â€” "whose hopeful coloursAdvancea half-fac'd sun, striving to shine,"

â€”â€”â€” "whose hopeful colours

Advancea half-fac'd sun, striving to shine,"

is visible inmany scenes throughout the play;â€”thepurpurei panniare Shakspeare's, and the rest the productions of some inglorious and forgotten play-wright;"â€”adding, in a subsequent paragraph, thatPericlesis valuable, "as the engravings ofMark Antonioare valuable not only on account of their beauty, but because they are supposed to have been executed under the eye ofRaffaelle[265:B];" while the latter gives it as his corrected opinion, that "the congenial sentiments, the numerous expressions bearing a striking similitude to passages in his undisputed plays, some of the incidents, the situation of many of the persons, and in various places the colour of the style, all these combine to set the seal of Shakspeare on the play before us, andfurnish us with internal and irresistible proofs, that a considerable portion of this piece, as it now appears, was written by him. The greater part of the three last acts may, I think, on this ground be safely ascribed to him; and his hand may be traced occasionally in the other two divisions."[266:A]Lastly, Mr. Douce asserts, that "many will be of opinion that it contains more thathe might have writtenthan eitherLove's Labour's Lost, orAll's Well that Ends Well."[266:B]

For satisfactory proof that the style, phraseology, and imagery of the greater part of this play are truly Shakspearean, the reader is referred to the commentators, who have noticed, with unwearied accuracy, all the numerous coincidences which, in these respects, occur betweenPericlesand the poet's subsequent productions; similitudes so striking, as to leave no doubt that they originated from one and the same source.

If we attend, however, a little further to thedramatic constructionofPericles, to itshumour,sentiment, andcharacter, not only shall we find additional evidence in favour of its being, in a great degree, the product of our author, but fresh cause, it is expected, for awarding it a higher estimation than it has hitherto obtained.

However wild and extravagant the fable ofPericlesmay appear, if we consider its numerous chorusses, its pageantry, and dumb shows, its continual succession of incidents, and the great length of time which they occupy, yet is it, we may venture to assert, the most spirited and pleasing specimen of the nature and fabric of our earliest romantic drama which we possess, and the more valuable, as it is the only one with which Shakspeare has favoured us. We should therefore welcome this play, an admirable example of "the neglected favourites of our ancestors, with something of the same feeling that is experienced in the reception of an old and valued friend of our fathers or grandfathers. Nay, we should like "it" the better for "its" gothic appendages of pageants and chorusses, to explain theintricacies of the fable; and we can see no objection to the dramatic representation even of a series of ages in a single night, that does not apply to every description of poem which leads in perusal from the fire-side at which we are sitting, to a succession of remote periods and distant countries. In these matters, faith is all-powerful; and, without her influence, the most chastely cold and critically correct of dramas is precisely as unreal as theMidsummer-Night's Dream, or theWinter's Tale."[267:A]

Perfectly coinciding in opinion with this ingenious critic, and willing to give an indefinite influence to the illusion of the scene, we have found inPericlesmuch entertainment from its uncommon variety and rapidity of incident, qualities which peculiarly mark the genius of Shakspeare, and which rendered this drama so successful on its first appearance, that the poets of the time quote its reception as a remarkable instance of popularity.[267:B]

A still more powerful attraction inPericlesis, that the interest accumulates as the story proceeds; for, though many of the characters in the earlier part of the piece, such asAntiochusand hisDaughter,SimonidesandThaisa,CleonandDionyza, disappear and drop into oblivion, their places are supplied by more pleasing and efficient agents, who are not only less fugacious, but better calculated for theatric effect. The inequalities of this production are, indeed, considerable, and only to be accounted for, with probability, on the supposition, that Shakspeare either accepted a coadjutor, or improved on the rough sketch of a previous writer; the former, for reasons which will be assigned hereafter, seems entitled to a preference, and will explain why, in compliment to his dramatic friend, he has suffered a few passages, and one entire scene, of a character totallydissimilar to his own style and mode of composition, to stand uncorrected; for who does not perceive that of the closing scene of the second act, not a sentence or a word escaped from the pen of Shakspeare, and yet, that the omission of a few lines would have rendered that blameless and consistent, which is now, with reference to the character of Simonides, a tissue of imbecillity, absurdity, and falsehood.[268:A]

No play, in fact, more openly discloses the hand of Shakspeare thanPericles, and fortunately his share in its composition appears to have been very considerable; he may be distinctly, though notfrequently, traced, in the first and second acts; after which, feeling the incompetency of his fellow-labourer, he seems to have assumed almost the entire management of the remainder, nearly the whole of the third, fourth, and fifth acts bearing indisputable testimony to the genius and execution of the great master.

The truth of these affirmations will be evident, if we give a slight attention to the sentiment and character which are developed in the scenes before us. It has been repeatedly declared, thatPericles, though teeming with incident, is devoid of character, an assertion which a little scrutiny is alone sufficient to refute.

Shakspeare has ever delighted in drawing the broad humour of inferior life, and in this, which we hold to be, thefirst heir of hisDRAMATICinvention, no opportunity is lost for the introduction of such sketches; accordingly, the first scene of the second act, and the third and sixth scenes of the fourth act, are occupied by delineations of this kind, coloured with the poet's usual strength and verisimilitude, and painting the shrewd but honest mirth of laborious fishermen, and the viciousbadinageof the inhabitants of a brothel. Leaving these traits, however, which sufficiently speak for themselves, let us turn our view on the more serious persons of the drama.

Of theminorcharacters belonging to this groupe, none, exceptHelicanusandCerimon, are, it must be confessed, worthy of consideration; the former is respectable for his fidelity and integrity, though not individualised by any peculiar attribution, but in Cerimon, who exhibits the rare union of the nobleman and the physician, the most unwearied benevolence, the most active philanthropy, are depicted in glowing tints, and we have only to regret that he fills not a greater space in the business of the drama. He is introduced in the second scene of the third act, as having

"Shaken off the golden slumber of repose,"

to assist, in a dreadfully inclement night, some shipwrecked mariners:

"Cer.Get fire and meat for these poor men;It has been a turbulent and stormy night.Serv.I have been in many; but such a night as this,Till now, I ne'er endur'd."

"Cer.Get fire and meat for these poor men;It has been a turbulent and stormy night.

"Cer.Get fire and meat for these poor men;

It has been a turbulent and stormy night.

Serv.I have been in many; but such a night as this,Till now, I ne'er endur'd."

Serv.I have been in many; but such a night as this,

Till now, I ne'er endur'd."

His prompt assistance on this occasion calls forth the eulogium of some gentlemen who had been roused from their slumbers by the violence of the tempest:

"Your honour has through Ephesus pour'd forthYour charity, and hundreds call themselvesYour creatures, who by you have been restor'd:And not your knowledge, personal pain, but evenYour purse, still open, hath built lord CerimonSuch strong renown as time shall neverâ€”"

"Your honour has through Ephesus pour'd forth

Your charity, and hundreds call themselves

Your creatures, who by you have been restor'd:

And not your knowledge, personal pain, but even

Your purse, still open, hath built lord Cerimon

Such strong renown as time shall neverâ€”"

They are here interrupted by two servants bringing in a chest which had been washed on shore, and which is found to contain the body of Thaisa, the wife of Pericles, on a survey of which, Cerimon pronounces, from the freshness of its appearance, that it had been too hastily committed to the sea, adding an observation which would form an excellent motto to an Essay on the means of restoring suspended animation:

"Death may usurp on nature many hours,And yet the fire of life kindle againThe overpressed spirits."

"Death may usurp on nature many hours,

And yet the fire of life kindle again

The overpressed spirits."

The disinterested conduct and philosophic dignity of Cerimon cannot be placed in a more amiable and striking light, than in that which they receive from the following declaration, worthy of being inscribed in letters of gold in the library of every liberal cultivator of medical science:

"Cerimon.I held it everVirtue and "knowledge"[271:A]were endowments greaterThan nobleness and riches: careless heirsMay the two latter darken and expend;But immortality attends the former,Making a man a god. 'Tis known, I everHave studied physick, through which secret art,By turning o'er authorities, I have(Together with my practice) made familiarTo me and to my aid, the blest infusionsThat dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;And I can speak of the disturbancesThat nature works, and of her cures; which give meA more content in course of true delightThan to be thirsty after tottering honour,Or tie my treasure up in silken bags."

"Cerimon.I held it ever

Virtue and "knowledge"[271:A]were endowments greater

Than nobleness and riches: careless heirs

May the two latter darken and expend;

But immortality attends the former,

Making a man a god. 'Tis known, I ever

Have studied physick, through which secret art,

By turning o'er authorities, I have

(Together with my practice) made familiar

To me and to my aid, the blest infusions

That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;

And I can speak of the disturbances

That nature works, and of her cures; which give me

A more content in course of true delight

Than to be thirsty after tottering honour,

Or tie my treasure up in silken bags."

If we now contemplate the two chief personages of the play,PericlesandMarina; and if it can be proved that these occupy, as they should do, the fore ground of the picture, are well relieved, and characteristically sustained, nothing can be wanting, when combined with the other marks of authenticity collected by the commentators, to substantiate the genuine property of Shakspeare.

Buoyant with hope, ardent in enterprise, and animated by the keenest sensibility,Periclesis brought forward as a model of knighthood. Chivalric in his habits, romantic in his conceptions, and elegant in his accomplishments, he is represented as the devoted servant of glory and of love. His failings, however, are not concealed; for the enthusiasm and susceptibility of his character lead him into many errors; he is alternately the sport of joy and grief, at one time glowing with rapture, at another plunged into utter despair. Not succeeding in his amatory overture at the court of Antiochus, and shocked at the criminality of that monarch and his daughter, he becomes a prey to the deepest despondency:â€”

"The sad companion, dull-eye'd melancholy,By me so us'd a guest is, not an hour,In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night,The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed me quiet."[272:A]

"The sad companion, dull-eye'd melancholy,

By me so us'd a guest is, not an hour,

In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night,

The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed me quiet."[272:A]

Affliction, however, of a more unequivocal kind soon assails him; he is shipwrecked on the coast of Greece, and compelled to solicitsupport from the benevolence of some poor fishermen. His address to these honest creatures is truly pathetic:â€”

"Per.He asks of you, that never us'd to beg.â€”What I have been, I have forgot to know;But what I am, want teaches me to think on;A man shrunk up with cold: my veins are chill,And have no more of life, than may sufficeTo give my tongue that heat, to ask your help."[273:A]

"Per.He asks of you, that never us'd to beg.â€”

What I have been, I have forgot to know;

But what I am, want teaches me to think on;

A man shrunk up with cold: my veins are chill,

And have no more of life, than may suffice

To give my tongue that heat, to ask your help."[273:A]

From this state of dejection he is suddenly raised to the most sanguine pitch of hope, on perceiving the fishermen dragging in their net to shore a suit of rusty armour. Enveloped in this, he determines to appear at Pentapolis the neighbouring capital of Simonides, as a knight and gentleman; to purchase a steed with a jewel yet remaining on his arm, and to enter the lists of a tournament then in preparation, as a candidate for the hand of Thaisa, the daughter of the king. His exultation on the prospect, he thus expresses to his humble friends:

"Now, by your furtherance, I am cloth'd in steel;And, spite of all the rupture of the sea,This jewel holds his biding on my arm;Unto thy value will I mount myselfUpon a courser, whose delightful stepsShall make the gazer joy to see him tread."[273:B]

"Now, by your furtherance, I am cloth'd in steel;

And, spite of all the rupture of the sea,

This jewel holds his biding on my arm;

Unto thy value will I mount myself

Upon a courser, whose delightful steps

Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread."[273:B]

The same rapid transition of the passions, and the same subjection to uncontrolled emotions mark his future course; the supposed deaths of his wife and daughter immerse him in the deepest abstraction and gloom; he is represented, in consequence of these events, as

"A man, who for this three months hath not spokenTo any one, nor taken sustenanceBut to prorogue his grief."[273:C]

"A man, who for this three months hath not spoken

To any one, nor taken sustenance

But to prorogue his grief."[273:C]

We are prepared therefore to expect, that the discovery of the existence of these dear relatives should have a proportionate effect on feelings thus constituted, so sensitive and so acute; and, accordingly, the tide of rapture rolls in with overwhelming force. Nothing, indeed, can be more impressively conducted than therecognitionofMarina; it is Shakspeare, not in the infancy of his career, but approaching to the zenith of his glory.â€”Conviction on the part of Pericles is accompanied by a flood of tears; why, says his daughter,

â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€” "Why do you weep? It may beYou think me an impostor.â€”â€”Per.O Helicanus, strike me, honour'd sir;Give me a gash, put me to present pain;Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me,O'erbear the shores of my mortality,And drown me with their sweetness. O, come hither,â€”Thou that was born at sea, buried at Tharsus,And found at sea again!â€”O Helicanus,Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods."[274:A]

â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€” "Why do you weep? It may beYou think me an impostor.â€”â€”

â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€” "Why do you weep? It may be

You think me an impostor.â€”â€”

Per.O Helicanus, strike me, honour'd sir;Give me a gash, put me to present pain;Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me,O'erbear the shores of my mortality,And drown me with their sweetness. O, come hither,â€”Thou that was born at sea, buried at Tharsus,And found at sea again!â€”O Helicanus,Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods."[274:A]

Per.O Helicanus, strike me, honour'd sir;

Give me a gash, put me to present pain;

Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me,

O'erbear the shores of my mortality,

And drown me with their sweetness. O, come hither,â€”

Thou that was born at sea, buried at Tharsus,

And found at sea again!â€”O Helicanus,

Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods."[274:A]

Nature appeals here to the heart in a tone not to be misunderstood.

Ecstasy, however, cannot long be borne, the feeble powers of man soon sink beneath the violence of the emotion, and mark how Shakspeare closes the conflict:

"Per.â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€” I embrace you, sir.Give me my robes; I am wild in my beholding.O heavens bless my girl! But hark, what musick?â€”Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell himâ€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€” for yet he seems to doubt,How sure you are my daughter.â€”But what musick?Her.My lord, I hear none.Per.None?The musick of the spheres: list, my Marina.â€”Most heavenly musick:It nips me unto list'ning, and thick slumberHangs on mine eye-lids; let me rest.(He sleeps.)"[274:B]

"Per.â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€” I embrace you, sir.

Give me my robes; I am wild in my beholding.

O heavens bless my girl! But hark, what musick?â€”

Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him

â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€”â€” for yet he seems to doubt,

How sure you are my daughter.â€”But what musick?

Her.My lord, I hear none.

Per.None?The musick of the spheres: list, my Marina.â€”Most heavenly musick:It nips me unto list'ning, and thick slumberHangs on mine eye-lids; let me rest.(He sleeps.)"[274:B]

Per.None?

The musick of the spheres: list, my Marina.â€”

Most heavenly musick:

It nips me unto list'ning, and thick slumber

Hangs on mine eye-lids; let me rest.

(He sleeps.)"[274:B]

It might be imagined that the above scene would almost necessarily preclude any chance of success in the immediately subsequent detail of the discovery ofThaisa; but the poet has contrived, notwithstanding, to throw both novelty and interest into this the final dÃ©nouement of the play. Pericles, aided by the evidence of Cerimon, recognises his wife in the character of high Priestess of the Temple of Diana at Ephesus; the acknowledgment is thus pathetically painted:â€”

"Per.â€”â€”â€” No more, you gods! your present kindnessMakes my past miseries sport: You shall do well,That on the touching of her lips I mayMelt, and no more be seen. O come, be buriedA second time within these arms.Marina.My heartLeaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.(Kneels toThaisa.Per.Look, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;Thy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina,For she was yielded there.Thaisa.Bless'd and mine own!"[275:A]

"Per.â€”â€”â€” No more, you gods! your present kindness

Makes my past miseries sport: You shall do well,

That on the touching of her lips I may

Melt, and no more be seen. O come, be buried

A second time within these arms.

Marina.My heartLeaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.(Kneels toThaisa.

Marina.My heart

Leaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.

(Kneels toThaisa.

Per.Look, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;Thy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina,For she was yielded there.

Per.Look, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;

Thy burden at the sea, and call'd Marina,

For she was yielded there.

Thaisa.Bless'd and mine own!"[275:A]

To the many amiable and interesting female characters with which the undisputed works of our poet abound, may be added theMarinaof this drama, who, like Miranda, Imogen, and Perdita, pleases by the gentleness, and artless tenderness of her disposition; though it must be allowed thatMarinacan only be considered as asketchwhen compared with the more highly finished designs of our author's maturer pencil; it is a sketch, however, from the hand of a master, and cannot be mistaken.

Pericles commits his infant daughter, accompanied by her nurse Lychorida, to the protection of Cleon and Dionyza:â€”

Back to Index Next