Pericles: Prince of Tyre

I am no viper, yet I feed
On mother’s flesh which did me breed.
I sought a husband, in which labor
I found that kindness in a father.
He’s father, son, and husband mild;
I mother, wife, and yet his child.
How they may be, and yet in two,
As you will live resolve it you.

This is the riddle posed before the Greek prince Pericles seeking the hand of the daughter of king Antiochus (of Antioch, Syria, modern-day Turkey). Pericles has been shown the heads of the men who tried their luck before him, who were decapitated because they could not solve the riddle.

Upon reading the riddle, Pericles instantly understands that the king is in an incestuous relationship with his daughter, and that his life is just as much in danger for grasping the meaning as it would be be if he could never guess.

This Shakespearian play amply addresses the reality that incest and child trafficking are common among the elite, and that leaders will go to any and all lengths to keep their dirty secrets safe, including starting wars to distract from the truth of their own actions.

Pericles expresses his astonishment over something that I often experienced among my perpetrators, that they love to brag about their misdeeds, only to then use all their might to keep those misdeeds secret.

In his reply to the king, Pericles says:

“Great king,
Few love to hear the sins they love to act.
’Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.
Who has a book of all that monarchs do,
He’s more secure to keep it shut than shown.
For vice repeated is like the wand’ring wind,
Blows dust in others’ eyes to spread itself.”

Pericles tries to convey that he has no desire to spread the king’s secret:

“Kings are Earth’s gods; in vice their law’s their will;
And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill?
It is enough you know; and it is fit,
What being more known grows worse, to smother it.”

Even though the king invites Pericles to remain and consider becoming part of the family, Pericles refuses, calling out the crime and the hypocrisy. And after that, he knows he has to run for his life:

“One sin, I know, another doth provoke;
Murder’s as near to lust as flame to smoke.
Poison and treason are the hands of sin,
Ay, and the targets to put off the shame.
Then, lest my life be cropped to keep you clear,
By flight I’ll shun the danger which I fear.”

The king, of course, immediately calls for the death of Pericles, because most important to him now is to save his reputation:

“He hath found the meaning,
For which we mean to have his head.
He must not live to trumpet forth my infamy,
Nor tell the world Antiochus doth sin
In such a loathèd manner.
And therefore instantly this prince must die,
For by his fall my honor must keep high.”

I admit that it is quite a thrill re-reading these lines written in the early 17th Century, beautifully, rhythmically spelling out the truths I’ve been trying to share based on my own experiences in childhood, which are still so difficult for most people to believe. I first read this play when I was 19 years old, when I lived in Paris. From the very first verse, I was riveted, seeing vital elements of my own story in print. Though the subject informed my entire life, it was completely taboo. At that time, I had never received either verbal or written validation for anything I had lived through. It was as if Shakespeare was reaching out across the ages, speaking directly to my soul. He was one who could understand me. From that moment on, I took comfort in the knowledge that Shakespeare, whose work's depth and breath touched on the truth of my experience, would have been able to hold the full weight of my story.

After Pericles has safely fled Antioch, he muses:

“Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun them;
And danger, which I feared, is at Antioch,
Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here.
Yet neither pleasure’s art can joy my spirits,
Nor yet the other’s distance comfort me.”

In thinking of the king’s fear of being found out and how this fear will evolve, Shakespeare lays out the psychology of powerful leaders who transpose the fears that initially have them fall for the temptations of evil, to being exposed for their evil, that then has them focus entirely on preventing exposure. Pericles says:

”Then it is thus: the passions of the mind
That have their first conception by misdread
Have after-nourishment and life by care;
And what was first but fear what might be done
Grows elder now, and cares it be not done.”

Pericles has no intention to speak out, but realizes that king Antiochus’ fear that he might, will definitely gain the upperhand in the reasoning of a man of power. He even briefly considers flattering king Antiochus, and realizes that, also, will do no good:

“And so with me. The great Antiochus,
’Gainst whom I am too little to contend,
Since he’s so great can make his will his act,
Will think me speaking though I swear to silence;
Nor boots it me to say I honor him
If he suspect I may dishonor him.”

Following is what is perhaps the most crucial moment in the history of plays, revealing that powerful men will do anything to distract from the truth of their sexual perversions; they will start wars so that their subjects will remain traumatized and divided, too preoccupied with hatred and sorrow to look beyond and consider the source of the problem - which is the leaders themselves. Here are Pericles’ words:

“And what may make him blush in being known,
He’ll stop the course by which it might be known.
With hostile forces he’ll o’er-spread the land,
And with th’ ostent of war will look so huge
Amazement shall drive courage from the state,
Our men be vanquished ere they do resist,
And subjects punished that ne’er thought offense.”

This play was written four centuries ago and features an Athenian statesman who lived about 2,500 years ago. When will we accept this reality?

Pericles proves his own worth as a man of power when one lord of his court refuses, like the others, to flatter him:

“Peace, peace, and give experience tongue.
They do abuse the King that flatter him,
For flattery is the bellows blows up sin;
The thing the which is flattered, but a spark
To which that wind gives heat and stronger glowing;
Whereas reproof, obedient and in order,
Fits kings as they are men, for they may err.
When Signior Sooth here does proclaim peace,
He flatters you, makes war upon your life.”

This lord understands he could be killed for his impunity, but Pericles praises him, and asks for his counsel:

“Thou art no flatterer.
I thank thee for ’t; and heaven forbid
That kings should let their ears hear their faults hid.
Fit counselor and servant for a prince,
Who by thy wisdom makes a prince thy servant,
What wouldst thou have me do?”

After the lord advises patience, Pericles bares his soul, telling the lord what happened during his visit to Antioch, his interaction with the king, and adding the wisdom gained by whistleblowers everywhere:

“I knew him tyrannous, and tyrants’ fears
Decrease not but grow faster than the years;
And should he doubt, as no doubt he doth,
That I should open to the list’ning air
How many worthy princes’ bloods were shed
To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,
To lop that doubt he’ll fill this land with arms,
And make pretense of wrong that I have done him;
When all, for mine—if I may call ’t—offense,
Must feel war’s blow, who spares not innocence.”

Indeed, no innocence, no children are spared when it comes to wars waged because of tyrants fears that their dirty secrets will be uncovered.

Pericles Act I involves the incestuous king Antiochus and his unnamed daughter, the princess and incest victim. Later in the play, Pericles’ daughter Marina appears. Believing his wife has died in childbirth during a terrible storm at sea, Pericles leaves his infant daughter with a couple in the city of Tarsus (Turkey) to raise her. When he returns to fetch her when she is fourteen years old, he is told she is dead. In reality, she has been kidnapped by pirates and trafficked to a brothel in Mytilene (Lesbos, Greece).

There her first John is the local governor, lord Lysimachus. The 14-year old virgin appeals to his honor and protests with such clarity and eloquence that lord Lysimachus refrains from raping her, and instead gives her money so she can escape.

I identified with Marina. I also protested the first time I was taken to be used, at six years old, in a castle ballroom full of costumed guests. I yelled:

“You can’t do this to me. I am going to tell on all of you. You will all go to jail.”

Perhaps my speech was not sophisticated enough for the nobles present. Interesting, that three years later an American billionaire did notice me for what he thought of as sophistication. He, however, also did not think me too good and pure for the sex trade. He only wanted to make me his personal slave.

In our times, it is highly unlikely that a girl about to be raped by a governor would be spared because she eloquently entreats him. In my childhood among highly placed politicians, I was hated and abused more sadistically for speaking up.

Marina ends up convincing even the brothel owner to save her from being sold. He frees her so she can find honorable work in town. To boot it all, she ultimately reunites with her mother whom she believed dead, and loving father, Pericles.

Having read Pericles over 40 years ago, I began to trust that my experiences could see the light of day. The good ending to my story is still in process, and very different to that of the play. Shakespeare opened the door to my personal growth, which is one and the same as the spiritual path. I was able to enter therapy, because I possessed a blueprint of my healed self - fully heard, seen and understood. My conviction carried me all the way to the faith I have today, continuing to heal, and doing my share to help erase this stain as old as history on the fabric of Western culture.

Anneke LucasJuly 16, 2017