Like one I loved indeed. What were thy friends?
Didst thou not say, when I did push thee back-
Which was when I perceived thee-that thou camest
From good descending?

Per. Report thy parentage. I think thou saidst
Thou hadst been toss'd from wrong to injury,

And that thou thought'st thy griefs might equal mine,
If both were open'd.

Mar.

Some such thing

I said and said no more but what my thoughts

Did warrant me was likely.

Fer.
Tell thy story;
If thine consider'd prove the thousandth part
Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I

Have suffer'd like a girl: yet thou dost look

Like Patience gazing on king's graves, and smiling
Extremity out of act.

What were thy friends?

How lost thou them? Thy name, my most kind virgin? Recount, I do beseech thee: come, sit by me.

Per. O, stop there a little!

(Aside.) This is the rarest dream that e'er dull sleep
Did mock sad fools withal: this cannot be :

My daughter's buried. Well where were you bred?
I'll hear you more, to the bottom of your story,

And never interrupt you.

Mar. You scorn: believe me, 'twere best I did give o'er. Per. I will believe you by the syllable

Of what you shall deliver. Yet, give me leave:

How came you in these parts ? where were you bred?
Mar. The king my father did in Tarsus leave me ;
Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,

Did seek to murder me: and having woo'd

A villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do't,
A crew of pirates came and rescued me;
Brought me to Mytilene. But, now, good sir,
Whither will you have me?

Why do you weep? It may be,

You think me an impostor: no, good faith;

I am the daughter to King Pericles,

If good King Pericles be.

Per. Ho, Helicanus !

Hel. Calls my lord?

Per. Thou art a grave and noble counsellor, Most wise in general: tell me, if thou canst, What this maid is, or what is like to be,

That thus hath made me weep?

Hel.

Here is the regent, sir, of Mytilene

Speaks nobly of her.

Lysimachus.

I know not; but

She would never tell

Her parentage; being demanded that,

She would sit still and weep.

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,

Thou that beget'st him that did thee beget;

Thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus,

And found at sea again! O Helicanus,

Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods as loud

As thunder threatens us: this is Marina.

What was thy mother's name? tell me but that,
For truth can never be confirm'd enough

Though doubts did ever sleep.

Mar.
What is your title?

First, sir, I pray,

Per. I am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now
My drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said
Thou hast been godlike perfect,

The heir of kingdoms and another like

To Pericles thy father.

Mar. Is it no more to be your daughter than

To say my mother's name was Thaisa?

Thaisa was my mother, who did end

The minute I began.

Per. Now, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child.

Give me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus ;

She is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,

By savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all;

When thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge
She is thy very princess. Who is this?

Hel. Sir, 'tis the governor of Mytilene,
Who, hearing of your melancholy state,
Did come to see you.

It is impossible to doubt the hand of the master in this scene, and Marina may fearlessly join the noble circle of Shakespeare's women. The evil-minded Dionyza conforms less to the profound psychological conception we admire in the mature poet. Simple envy of Marina's superiority to her own daughter is a very petty motive when it concerns so foul a deed as the murder of a lovely and innocent being, who has been confided to her by a parent as a pledge of the highest confidence and the truest friendship. A woman capable of resolving suddenly on such a murderous action,

of giving such an order in cold blood, must have been naturally filled with hate and evil passion. We turn with absolute horror from the heartless hypocrite who, with flattering words and skilfully feigned cheerfulness, lures the harmless confiding victim into the net. Nor can we clearly explain the indulgence extended by the worthy but weak and undecided Cleon to his criminal wife. The two other female characters of the play do not call for extended remark. The daughter of King Antiochus passes through the first scene like a baleful spectre. The mysterious riddle she propounds to her suitors, and to which Pericles finds the terrible answer that betrays the horrible connection between her and her father, thereby calling down the unquenchable wrath of Antiochus, is the starting-point of the play, since Pericles begins his wanderings to escape their fury. They lead him to Pentapolis, where he wins for his wife Thaisa, the daughter of King Simonides. He puts to sea with her after living some time at his father-in-law's court. She gives birth to a daughter during a fierce storm, and is supposed to have died in childbirth. Her body is committed to the waves. But lucky fate drives the chest which contains her to land at Ephesus. Thaisa awakes once more to life. The noble lady, who despairs of ever again meeting husband and child, renounces all worldly joys, and leads a secluded and cloistered life in the Temple of Diana. Through a dream brought about by the goddess, Pericles with his newly discovered daughter comes to the city, and the husband and wife, who had never thought to meet again in this world, recognise cach other after their long and painful separation. In blissful delight the sorely tried lady embraces her husband and the daughter, now grown a lovely girl.

In absolute contradiction to the Shakespearian spirit as expressed in his other dramas, is the Epilogue, which, like the numerous prologues that fill the gaps in the action of this play, aided by pantomimic performers, is placed in the

mouth of the old English poet John Gower. In this Epilogue poetical and pedantic justice is declaimed in a manner nowhere else employed by Shakespeare. Great and eternal truths shine out from every line he wrote, but he never gives them formal application. He shows in the catastrophes of his plays how passion and crime lead to destruction, but he never, abandoning the objective rôle of the poet, sits subjectively in judgment. Here rewards and punishments are formally portioned out, and the spectator is called upon to observe how Antiochus and his daughter have been punished for their wickedness; how Cleon and Dionyza have been burned alive in their own. palace by their subjects for the intended murder of Marina; how, on the contrary, Pericles with his wife and child, after much suffering, have received great good fortune as the reward of their virtue. If this Epilogue be the work of Shakespeare, we can only explain it in one way, viz., that as the young poet was also part owner of the theatre, in view of the material interest of the house he was obliged to conform to the taste of a public that loved such mechanically poctical morality.

"HENRY VI."

Queen Margaret-Eleanor, Duchess of Gloster-Elizabeth,
Queen to Edward IV.

It lies beyond the province of this book, which aims at describing the female characters of Shakespeare, to discuss the important critical questions connected with certain plays of the first period-questions which turn upon doubts as to whether Shakespeare wrote them himself or merely worked over older pieces, and how large a part, in the latter case, may be assigned to him. The question only concerns us in so far as it aids us in judging to what degree the female characters in such plays conform in character and nature