MARINA: A PLAY OF THREE ACTS. As it is Acted at the THEATRE ROYAL IN CONVENT-GARDEN. Taken from PERICLES PRINCE of TYRE.
By Mr. LILLO.
LONDON: Printed for JOHN GRAY, at the Cross-Keys in the Poultry, near Cheapside. M.DCC.XXXVIII. [Price One Shilling.]
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE the Countess of Hertford.
PErmit me to hope that you will pardon the honest ambition which has encourag'd me to seek a proper Patroness for Marina in your Ladyship; whose real character gives countenance to the imaginary one, and whose constant practice is a living example of that steady virtue, and exalted piety, which the Author of the old Play from whence this is taken, has happily described in his Princess of Tyre.
Conscious of no mean views, and secur'd by the universal acknowledgment [Page iv] of your merit from the imputation of flattery, I approach your Ladyship, though a stranger, and without any previous application, with the less diffidence: If this Play should appear on perusal to be designed to promote something better than meer amusement, that will effectually recommend it to the favour of the Countess of Hertford.
To place merit in the gifts of fortune, and happiness in what an hour may, and a few years certainly will bring to an end, is the folly and misery of too many who are reputed wise and great. To be truly so is with your Ladyship to regard the finest understanding, the most fruitful invention, the happiest elocution, talents far superior to wealth and dignity, but as they subserve the interest of truth and virtue, and render the possessors of them, in the midst of affluence, moderate even in the use of lawful pleasures, humble in the [Page v] most exalted stations, and capable of living above the world, even in the possession of all it can bestow. I am afraid and unwilling to offend. But as universal benevolence is the perfection of virtue, your Ladyship must suffer your own to be spoken of, however painful it may be to you, that others may not want a pattern for their encouragement or reprehension, as they shall improve or neglect it. A truly great mind discovers it self by nothing more than by a benign and well plac'd condescension; of which your Ladyship's known esteem for the late excellent Mrs. Rowe, is a noble instance, and an undoubted proof, amongst many others which you daily give, of the goodness of your heart and understanding, and cannot be mentioned but to your honour.
I can affirm, and I hope I shall be thought sincere, that what I have said doth not proceed from custom as a [Page vi] Dedicator, but from a mind fully convinc'd of its truth in every circumstance, and a heart touch'd with a character so very amiable.
That you may long live an ornament and a support of those excellent principles which you profess and practice, and that your influence and example may do all the good that you your self can wish, is the earnest desire of,
PROLOGUE.
Dramatis Personae.
- PERICLES, King of Tyre.
- Mr. Stephens.
- LYSIMACHUS, Governor of Ephesus.
- Mr. Hallam.
- ESCANES, Chief Attendant on Pericles.
- Mr. Shelton.
- LEONINE, A young Lord of Tharsus.
- Mr. Stevens.
- VALDES, Captain of a Crew of Pirates.
- Mr. Bowman.
- BOLT, A Pander.
- Mr. Penkethman.
- THAISA, Queen of Tyre.
- Mrs. Marshall.
- PHILOTEN, Queen of Tharsus.
- Mrs. Hamilton.
- MARINA, Daughter to Pericles and Thaisa.
- Mrs. Vincent.
- MOTHER COUPLER, A Bawd.
- Mr. W. Hallam.
Gentlemen, Two Priestesses, Ladies, Officers, Guards, Pirates, and Attendants.
[Page 9]MARINA.
ACT I.
SCENE I. A Grove, with a Prospect of a calm Sea, near the City of Tharsus.
I'm determin'd.
I hope you're not offended.
Fear not, she ne'er shall vex your quiet more.
That she's nor well, nor gentle.
I'm sorry for't. Is the wind westerly?
South-west.
When I was born the wind was north.
And when was this?
Never. Come, say your prayers.
What do you mean?
Why will you kill me, Sir?
T' obey the Queen.
I'm not to reason of the deed, but do it.
Hold villain. Fear not, fair one, I'll defend thee.
A man, fool. Alexander the Great was no more. You are a poltron, a coward, and a rascal, to draw cold iron on a woman.
A prize! A prize!
Half part, Mate, half part.
Hands off. I found her first.
That's no claim amongst us.
No, none at all. Every man is to have his share of all the prizes we take.
Nay, if you come to that, she belongs to the whole ship's company.
Who denies that? But I will not quit my part in her to the Captain himself: sink me if I do.
Nor I, by Neptune.
This is no place to dispute in. We shall have the city rise upon us: therefore we must have her aboard suddenly.
Ay; bear a hand, bear a hand.
Come, sweet Lady.
None shall hurt you.
We'll lose our lives before we'll see you wrong'd.
A rare prize, if a man cou'd have her to himself. A pox of all ill fortune, say I.
SCENE II. A House in Ephesus.
Sad times, Bolt.
Ay, very sad times, Mistress.
This new order, so much talk'd of, for suppressing publick lewdness, will be the ruin of us. All our business will fall into private hands. I must shut up my doors, I must quit my house, unless we can find some way to evade it.
Whip Bawds and Panders! fine doings! rare Magistrates! Let 'em whip their own lubberly Sons and dough-bak'd Daughters for their idleness, and not punish people for their industry and service to the publick.
Nay, nay, if they will turn iniquity out of the high-ways, they must expect to find it in their families. Let them keep their Wives and Daughters honest if they can. The necessities of Gentlemen must be supply'd.
There are abundance of foreign Merchants and Travellers here in Ephesus, that us'd to be our customers.
And old Batchelors.
And younger Brothers.
And disconsolate Widowers.
And Husbands that have old Wives.
And Philosophers, Lawyers, and Soldiers that have none at all; and all these must be serv'd.
And will, while Women are to be had for money, love, or importunity.
Ay, let the Citizens, who spirited up this prosecution against our useful vocation, think of the consequence, and tremble.
Yet, after all, these threats may come to nothing. You have weather'd many such a storm, Mother Coupler.
Ay, Bolt, I have had my ups and my downs— no Woman more— But I will not be discourag'd, I will not neglect business for a rumour neither. The mart will fill the town, and we are but meanly furnish'd.
Never worse. Three poor wenches are all our store, and they can do no more than they can.
Thou say'st true. And those so stale, so sunk, and so diseas'd, that a strong wind would blow 'em all to pieces. I must have others, whatever they cost me.
Shall I search the slave market?
Those we buy there, are mostly half worn out before we have them. There was the little Transilvanian you bought last, did not live above three months, and never brought in half the money she cost.
Ay, she was quickly made meat for worms. But there are losses in all trades, and ours not being honest —
Marry come up; I pray, what trades are honest, as they are us'd? We are no worse than others.
Where's Mother Coupler? Where are you, Bawd?
Why, how now, Roister? How now, Captain Thief? Use your Tarpaulin language to thy own natural Mother; do, Brawn and Bristle, do, Iron face.
Let any one be judge, whether my chin, somewhat black and rough I must confess, or thine, that's cover'd with grey down, like a goose's rump, be the more comely. Thy face is a memento mori for thy own sex, and to ours an antidote against the sin you live by. But, see what we have brought you: Here's a Paragon.
Mark the colour of her hair, complection, shape and age.
I have noted them all. When Nature form'd this piece, she meant me a good turn.
Here's that will repair your decay'd arras, and set you up for a Bawd of condition.
I was just saying, what stale, worn out creatures are daily brought to market; and those who buy of Pirates, must expect as bad, or worse: And then I have choice enough, and those not blown on.
Nay, nay, use your pleasure: You have the first proffer of her. If she's not for your turn, there's no harm done: She's any one's money.
You don't consider the dulness of the times. If men were as they have been —
A virgin too.
A likely matter, coming from the hands of such a lawless crew!
You are deceived. We have laws amongst our selves, or I would not have parted with her. However we are distinguish'd by titles and office, each man hath a right to his proportion of every prize we take; which all claiming on the sight of her, and refusing to compound with, or give place to any other, there ensued such jealousy, such fury and contention, that we were obliged, by common consent, to leave her untouch'd, and dispose of her, as soon as possible, to prevent the cutting of one anothers throats.
Well, what's your price?
What do you mean ready rigg'd? She has excellent cloaths you see.
If I deal for her, I take her altogether.
I won't bate one doit of a thousand pieces.
What shall I give you for your conscience, Valdes?
Your honesty, Mother Coupler: We won't differ for a trifle.
Five hundred pieces, Sir!
Four times told, Madam.
Why, what the Devil, you said but a thousand e'en now.
I thought you cou'dn't hear but by halves, and was willing to come up to your understanding.
You'll stand haggling till you lose her.
Look you, I am at a word. But for the reason I just now spoke of, you shou'd not have had her for twice the sum.
Follow me, and you shall have your money. Bolt, take care of my purchase.
Never fear, Mistress, never fear.
Immortal Gods! to what am I reserv'd?
Come hither, child. You are but young, and may want some instructions. Tho' she who has bought you, your Mistress and mine, knows as much as a woman can know; yet there's nothing like a man to teach you the practical part of business, take my word for it.
What are you, Sir?
A middle aged person, as you see; and in perfect health, that you may depend upon.
Is your mind sound?
She's mighty simple. Ay, ay, as sound as my body.
The Gods preserve it so. Yet you talk strangely.
I thank you heartily for your good wishes. Nay, I am the principal person in this family, after our Mistress: It may be well worth your while to make a friend of me.
I know not, but am sure I want a friend. I am of maids most wretched.
I'll quickly ease you of the wretchedness of being a maid. Yet you must pass for one, and often.
I understand you not.
Such things are common here. But of that, and other needful arts in our profession, my Mistress will inform you.
Not to be touch'd! Ha, ha, in troth a pretty jest, and will do rarely with some young gulls. To seem most fearful when you are most willing, and weep as you do now, will move the pity of your Inamoratos, and strain their purses to shower down gold upon you. Your striving will not save you: This is no place for squeamish modesty: We live by lewdness here, and you were bought to carry on the trade.
Hence, thou detested slave, thou shameless villain.
You powers that favour chastity, defend me.
Why how now? what's the matter here? what have you been doing with her?
Nothing, Mistress, and I am afraid there is nothing to be done with her. She fights like a she Tyger.
Out, you rascal. Is this a morsel for your chaps?
Why not? Do you think I'll serve up a delicate dish without tasting it?
In your turn, sirrah, in your turn. Let your betters be serv'd before you.
Ay, but a bit of the spit, you know—
About your business, and let Gentlemen know how we are provided for their entertainment.
Don't cry, pretty one: He shall be made to know his distance, and his time. While [Page 21] you behave discreetly, child, you shall be reserv'd for the better sort of men only. You are fallen into good hands, depend upon it.
Come, come, my rose-bud, my sprig of Jessamin, you are all beauty and sweetness— you have no cause to grieve— Heaven has done its part by you.
I accuse not Heaven.
Here you may live, and shall.
And live with pleasure.
No.
You shall not want variety: you shall have men, and men of all complexions.
Are you a woman?
A woman! pray, what do you take me for, Madam? I have been thought a woman, and an handsome woman in my time.
O the Devil!
And modest, and religious.
You're a sapling to talk so to one of my experience. Honest, modest, and religious, with a pox to you! I'll make you know, before I've done [Page 22] with you, that I won't have any such thing mention'd in my house.
The gracious Gods defend me.
What, do you offer to say your prayers in my hearing! Is this a place to pray in? Don't provoke me, don't. I find I shall have something to do with you. But you shall bend or break, I can tell you that for your comfort.
Mistress, here's the lean French Knight, he that cowers in the hams, and the fat German Count.
In good time. Here, take this stubborn fool, and carry her to them.
To which of them?
To him that will give most first, and to the other afterwards. She cost me a round sum, but don't refuse money. Her blushes must be quench'd with present practice: She's good for nothing as she is.
Diana, aid my purpose.
Come your ways. What have we to do with Diana?
Ay, troop, follow your Leader. We'll teach you honesty, modesty, and religion with a vengeance.
ACT II.
SCENE I. An Apartment adjoining to a Temple at the Court of Tharsus.
I deserve them both.
What! wed a murtherer!
O woful, woful hour! Where shall we go?
Hah!
You come too late: The slave has pierc'd my heart.
Tear out his tongue, let not the traytor speak.
It need not, Madam; he has spoke his last.
SCENE II. A House in Ephesus.
Where are the Gentlemen?
Gone.
Gone!
Ay, gone away, and left her untouch'd. With her holy speeches, kneeling, prayers, and tears, she has converted 'em to chastity.
The Devil she has!
They vow never to enter a bawdy-house again, but turn religious, and frequent the Temples: They are gone to hear the Vestals sing already.
What will become of me? O the wicked jade, to study the ruin of a poor Gentlewoman!
I'd rather than twice the worth of her she had never come here.
She's enough to undo all the Panders and Bawds in Ephesus.
Pox of her green sickness.
Ay, if she wou'd but change one for the other, there were some hopes of her. But I have good intelligence that the Lord Lysimachus will be here presently.
The Governor?
Ay, but he's a great persecutor of persons of our profession.
Pho, those are our best customers and surest friends in private. If the peevish baggage wou'd but hear reason now, we were made for ever. Fetch her. We'll try once more.
She must be marble if she don't melt at the sight of [Page 33] so great, so rich, so young and handsome a man as the Lord Lysimachus.
I'm proud to see your Lordship here, and glad your honour is so chearfully dispos'd. Venus forbid a Gentleman shou'd receive an injury in my house. No, Sir, we defy the Surgeons. And for temptation, I have such an one, if she would but—
Prythee, what?
Your Honour knows what I mean well enough.
Well, let me see her.
Such flesh and blood, Sir!— For red and white— Well, you shall see a flower, and a flower she were indeed, had she but—
Why dost not speak? What is there wanting in her?
O, Sir, I can be modest.
I pray your Honour let me have a word with her: I'll have done presently.
Do, I beseech you.
First I wou'd have you take notice that this is a man of Honour.
Grant, Heav'n, I find him so!
And next, that he's a great man and Governor of this country; and lastly, one I'm bound to.
Pray use him kindly, or—
Have you yet done?
I'm afraid your Lordship must take some pains with her, but there's nothing to be done with these unexperienc'd things without it. Come, we'll leave his Honour and her together.
What course d'ye mean, my Lord?
I cannot be offended at the truth.
How long have you been what you now profess?
E'er since I can remember.
I ne'er was other—if I am so now.
Dare not come near me.
Then view my last defence.
What dost thou mean!
I beseech your Honour, one piece for me.
I see we must take another course with you; or your peevish chastity, which is not worth a breakfast in the cheapest country in the universe, will undo a whole family. Come your ways.
How now! what's the matter?
Worse and worse, Mistress. She has been talking religion to my Lord Lysimachus.
O abominable!
She makes our profession stink, as it were, in the nostrels of all who come near her.
Marry hang her.
My Lord wou'd have us'd her as a Lord shou'd use a gentlewoman, for I over heard 'em; but she sent him away as cold as a snow-ball; saying his Prayers too.
Take her away: use her at your pleasure.
Hark, hark, you Gods!
Come, mistress, you shall along with me.
O wither wou'd you have me?
Into the next room, to take from you by force the jewel you are so unwilling to part with.
Pray tell me one thing first.
Propose your Question.
What wou'd you wish to your worst enemies?
Why I wou'd wish 'em as infamous as my mistress.
What wou'd you have me do? Go to the wars! Where a man may serve seven years for the loss of a leg, and not have money enough in the end to buy him a wooden one.
Nay, I don't see why a man mayn't as well do a good deed as a bad one, especially when he's paid for it. And to say the truth, I think you wou'd freeze the blood of a Satyr, and make a Puritan of the Devil, if they were to cheapen a kiss of thee. Come, give me the money.
No, first conduct me to some place of safety.
But shall I have it then?
Well, I'll trust you. I'll see you plac'd—
But among honest women.
Troth, I've but little acquaintance amongst them. But there is one who is known to all Ephesus by fame, the holy priestess of Diana's temple: She will be proud of such a chaste companion, and has besides the power to protect you.
O the good Gods direct me how to find her!
But, hark, I hear my mistress. We must be gone: This way we may avoid her.
Bolt, Bolt, Where are you? Secure Marina. The Governor's officers are searching the [Page 41] house for her: we shall have her forc'd away. Why Bolt—O the Devil! the back door is open: The villain is run away with my slave, and all the money I paid for her will be lost.
She's no where to be found.
No, no, she's gone. My man had stole her away before you came, a pox confound him and you too: I am likely to be brought to a fine pass betwixt you.
Then we must execute our other orders, which are to turn this Beldame out of doors, and then shut up the house.
Turn me out of doors! how must I live?
Do you take care of that. It is a favour, and a great one too, that you are not sent to prison.
Such Governors are enough to make a woman do what she never thought of.
Ay, do— work— that's what I dare be sworn you never thought of.
No, nor ever will. A Gentlewoman, and work! I'll see you all hang'd first.
Chuse, and be hang'd your self: You have long deserv'd it.
Have I so, scoundrel? And yet you have been glad of a cast of my office before now. While such as you are trusted with authority, as sure as thieves are honest, strumpets chaste,
ACT III.
SCENE I. A Street in Ephesus.
IF I could but recover Marina, and make her pliable, I shou'd do very well still: I cou'd make an handsome living of her in any ground in Asia.
Hah, Mother Coupler! How is it with thee, old flesh-monger? thou quondam retailer of stale carrion, and propagator of diseases. What, quite broke! no private practice!— I know you hate to be idle— Though your house is shut up, you have some properties, I hope. Why, you'll make a good stroling bawd still. What never a new vamped up wench, just come out of an hospital, to accommodate a friend with?
Villain, traitor, thief, runaway, how dare you look me in the face?
I am too well acquainted with your face to be afraid of it— ugly as it is.
You have the impudence of old Nick.
Then I did not converse with you so long without learning something.
You seduced my slave.
That's a lye; for she seduced me.
You deserve to be hang'd for robbing me of my property. What have you done with her?
If I had done with her what you wou'd have had me, we shou'd both have been hang'd: So take the matter right, and you are oblig'd to me.
Not at all: For though it happen'd as you say, you intended me no good.
And pray whom did you ever intend any good to?
Where have you put Marina?
No where: She was taken from me before we had gone the length of the street by the Governor's servants.
This is your praying Lord, plague rot him for a cheating hypocrite. And so after all my cost and pains about her to no manner of purpose, he has her for nothing.
No, he has n't her neither.
That's some comfort yet: Then perhaps I may have her again.
When she turns strumpet, and you repent.
Where is she?
Where the air is as disagreeable to a bawd, as the air of a bawdy-house is to her— in the Temple of Diana.
I'm a ruin'd woman.
You can never be long at a loss for a living: It is but removing your quarters, and beginning your trade again where you are n't known— if you can find such a place.
You're a sneering rascal. But I hope you did not let Marina go off with the money the Governor gave her?
No, no, I took care to lighten her of that burthen.
And where is it?
Very safe, very safe.
Why, you don't intend to cheat me of that too?
I don't well understand what you mean by cheating, but am sure I shou'd deceive you most egregiously if I were to part with a single stiver. No, no, I shall take care of my self: I shall keep what I have got, depend upon it.
But what a conscience must you have in the mean time!
Don't you and I know one another, Mother Coupler? Measure my conscience exactly by your own, and you'll find its dimensions to the breadth of a hair.
If I ben't reveng'd, may I die of the pip without the comfort of an hospital to hide my shame and misery from the world.
Or the pleasure of deserving it.
SCENE II. The Temple of Diana, with her statue and altar. Near them Thaisa is discover'd, sleeping; two Priestesses attending, who come forward.
Sleeps the high Priestess yet?
You must have known her long?
'Tis strange none e'er discover'd who she is.
O Pericles!
Did she not speak? Attend.
Madam, How fare you?
Cou'd our best service help you, we were happy.
The Gods forbid.
'Twas wond'rous strange.
He's ever welcome.
I wish I knew.
That he have his: I pray you greet him fairly.
Hail, reverend Sir: The gracious Gods preserve you.
You greet me well.
And may she prove propitious.
Upon what ground is his distemperance?
Good Sir, all hail: The Gods preserve you, hail.
Say, we wish to see her.
She's a gallant Lady.
Mark, she will try the force of musick first.
SONG.
Mark'd he your musick?
No, nor look'd upon me.
She'll speak to him.
I am what I appear, a simple Maid.
My name, Sir, is Marina.
I will, I will have patience.
That name was giv'n me by a King and Father.
How! a King's daughter too! and call'd Marina!
'Twere best I did give o'er.
But one thing more: Tell me, who was thy mother?
She was the daughter of the King of Cyprus.
O let me hear the rest.
My royal Father!—
What! ho! help here: The holy Priestess dies.
The heav'nly pow'rs forbid.
I pray who is this Lady?
Hark, what musick's that?
Where, O where's my Lord?
Thaisa's voice!
But dare we trust?—
Hail, royal master.
Happy monarch, hail.
EPILOGUE.
Printed for J. GRAY, at the Cross Keys in the Poultry, near Cheapside.
I. GEORGE BARNWELL. A Tragedy. Sixth Edition.
II. The Christian Hero. A Tragedy. Second Edition.
III. Fatal Curiosity. A true Tragedy of Three Acts. All three by Mr. Lillo.
IV. The Life and Character of Scanderbeg. Inscrib'd to the Spectators of the Christian Hero.
V. A Journey to Bristol: Or, the Honest Welchman. A Farce. By John Hippesly.