Marina Monologue from Pericles

From Pericles by William Shakespeare

female · anguished · 48 sec

I am a maid, My lord, that ne’er before invited eyes, But have been gazed on like a comet: she speaks, My lord, that, may be, hath endured a grief Might equal yours, if both were justly weigh’d. Though wayward Fortune did malign my state, My derivation was from ancestors Who stood equivalent with mighty kings: But time hath rooted out my parentage, And to the world and awkward casualties Bound me in servitude. I will desist; But there is something glows upon my cheek, And whispers in mine ear ‘Go not till he speak.’

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