APDL Eductation Resources/APDL Eductation Resources.iso/text/shakespear/pericles/PERICLES

Text File | 1994-08-29 | 125.6 KB | 3,872 lines

        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


        DRAMATIS PERSONAE


ANTIOCHUS       king of Antioch.

PERICLES        prince of Tyre.


HELICANUS       |
        |  two lords of Tyre.
ESCANES |


SIMONIDES       king of Pentapolis.

CLEON   governor of Tarsus.

LYSIMACHUS      governor of Mytilene.

CERIMON a lord of Ephesus.

THALIARD        a lord of Antioch.

PHILEMON        servant to Cerimon.

LEONINE servant to Dionyza.

        Marshal. (Marshal:)

        A Pandar. (Pandar:)

BOULT   his servant.

        The Daughter of Antiochus. (Daughter:)

DIONYZA wife to Cleon.

THAISA  daughter to Simonides.

MARINA  daughter to Pericles and Thaisa.

LYCHORIDA       nurse to Marina.

        A Bawd. (Bawd:)

        Lords, Knights, Gentlemen, Sailors, Pirates,
        Fishermen, and Messengers. (Lord:)
        (First Lord:)
        (Second Lord:)
        (Third Lord:)
        (First Knight:)
        (Second Knight:)
        (Third Knight:)
        (First Gentleman:)
        (Second Gentleman:)
        (First Sailor:)
        (Second Sailor:)
        (First Pirate:)
        (Second Pirate:)
        (Third Pirate:)
        (First Fisherman:)
        (Second Fisherman:)
        (Third Fisherman:)
        (Messenger:)

DIANA:

GOWER   as Chorus.



SCENE   Dispersedly in various countries.




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT I


        [Enter GOWER]

        [Before the palace of Antioch]

        To sing a song that old was sung,
        From ashes ancient Gower is come;
        Assuming man's infirmities,
        To glad your ear, and please your eyes.
        It hath been sung at festivals,
        On ember-eves and holy-ales;
        And lords and ladies in their lives
        Have read it for restoratives:
        The purchase is to make men glorious;
        Et bonum quo antiquius, eo melius.
        If you, born in these latter times,
        When wit's more ripe, accept my rhymes.
        And that to hear an old man sing
        May to your wishes pleasure bring
        I life would wish, and that I might
        Waste it for you, like taper-light.
        This Antioch, then, Antiochus the Great
        Built up, this city, for his chiefest seat:
        The fairest in all Syria,
        I tell you what mine authors say:
        This king unto him took a fere,
        Who died and left a female heir,
        So buxom, blithe, and full of face,
        As heaven had lent her all his grace;
        With whom the father liking took,
        And her to incest did provoke:
        Bad child; worse father! to entice his own
        To evil should be done by none:
        But custom what they did begin
        Was with long use account no sin.
        The beauty of this sinful dame
        Made many princes thither frame,
        To seek her as a bed-fellow,
        In marriage-pleasures play-fellow:
        Which to prevent he made a law,
        To keep her still, and men in awe,
        That whoso ask'd her for his wife,
        His riddle told not, lost his life:
        So for her many a wight did die,
        As yon grim looks do testify.
        What now ensues, to the judgment of your eye
        I give, my cause who best can justify.

        [Exit]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT I



SCENE I Antioch. A room in the palace.


        [Enter ANTIOCHUS, Prince PERICLES, and followers]

ANTIOCHUS       Young prince of Tyre, you have at large received
        The danger of the task you undertake.

PERICLES        I have, Antiochus, and, with a soul
        Embolden'd with the glory of her praise,
        Think death no hazard in this enterprise.

ANTIOCHUS       Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride,
        For the embracements even of Jove himself;
        At whose conception, till Lucina reign'd,
        Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence,
        The senate-house of planets all did sit,
        To knit in her their best perfections.

        [Music. Enter the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS]

PERICLES        See where she comes, apparell'd like the spring,
        Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king
        Of every virtue gives renown to men!
        Her face the book of praises, where is read
        Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence
        Sorrow were ever razed and testy wrath
        Could never be her mild companion.
        You gods that made me man, and sway in love,
        That have inflamed desire in my breast
        To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree,
        Or die in the adventure, be my helps,
        As I am son and servant to your will,
        To compass such a boundless happiness!

ANTIOCHUS       Prince Pericles,--

PERICLES        That would be son to great Antiochus.

ANTIOCHUS       Before thee stands this fair Hesperides,
        With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch'd;
        For death-like dragons here affright thee hard:
        Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view
        Her countless glory, which desert must gain;
        And which, without desert, because thine eye
        Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die.
        Yon sometimes famous princes, like thyself,
        Drawn by report, adventurous by desire,
        Tell thee, with speechless tongues and semblance pale,
        That without covering, save yon field of stars,
        Here they stand martyrs, slain in Cupid's wars;
        And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist
        For going on death's net, whom none resist.

PERICLES        Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught
        My frail mortality to know itself,
        And by those fearful objects to prepare
        This body, like to them, to what I must;
        For death remember'd should be like a mirror,
        Who tells us life's but breath, to trust it error.
        I'll make my will then, and, as sick men do
        Who know the world, see heaven, but, feeling woe,
        Gripe not at earthly joys as erst they did;
        So I bequeath a happy peace to you
        And all good men, as every prince should do;
        My riches to the earth from whence they came;
        But my unspotted fire of love to you.

        [To the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS]

        Thus ready for the way of life or death,
        I wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus.

ANTIOCHUS       Scorning advice, read the conclusion then:
        Which read and not expounded, 'tis decreed,
        As these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed.

Daughter        Of all say'd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous!
        Of all say'd yet, I wish thee happiness!

PERICLES        Like a bold champion, I assume the lists,
        Nor ask advice of any other thought
        But faithfulness and courage.

        [He reads the riddle]

        I am no viper, yet I feed
        On mother's flesh which did me breed.
        I sought a husband, in which labour
        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.

        Sharp physic is the last: but, O you powers
        That give heaven countless eyes to view men's acts,
        Why cloud they not their sights perpetually,
        If this be true, which makes me pale to read it?
        Fair glass of light, I loved you, and could still,

        [Takes hold of the hand of the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS]

        Were not this glorious casket stored with ill:
        But I must tell you, now my thoughts revolt
        For he's no man on whom perfections wait
        That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate.
        You are a fair viol, and your sense the strings;
        Who, finger'd to make man his lawful music,
        Would draw heaven down, and all the gods, to hearken:
        But being play'd upon before your time,
        Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime.
        Good sooth, I care not for you.

ANTIOCHUS       Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life.
        For that's an article within our law,
        As dangerous as the rest. Your time's expired:
        Either expound now, or receive your sentence.

PERICLES        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 wandering wind.
        Blows dust in other's eyes, to spread itself;
        And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,
        The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear:
        To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts
        Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is throng'd
        By man's oppression; and the poor worm doth die for't.
        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.
        All love the womb that their first being bred,
        Then give my tongue like leave to love my head.

ANTIOCHUS       [Aside]  Heaven, that I had thy head! he has found
        the meaning:
        But I will gloze with him.--Young prince of Tyre,
        Though by the tenor of our strict edict,
        Your exposition misinterpreting,
        We might proceed to cancel of your days;
        Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree
        As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise:
        Forty days longer we do respite you;
        If by which time our secret be undone,
        This mercy shows we'll joy in such a son:
        And until then your entertain shall be
        As doth befit our honour and your worth.

        [Exeunt all but PERICLES]

PERICLES        How courtesy would seem to cover sin,
        When what is done is like an hypocrite,
        The which is good in nothing but in sight!
        If it be true that I interpret false,
        Then were it certain you were not so bad
        As with foul incest to abuse your soul;
        Where now you're both a father and a son,
        By your untimely claspings with your child,
        Which pleasure fits an husband, not a father;
        And she an eater of her mother's flesh,
        By the defiling of her parent's bed;
        And both like serpents are, who though they feed
        On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed.
        Antioch, farewell! for wisdom sees, those men
        Blush not in actions blacker than the night,
        Will shun no course to keep them from the light.
        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 lie be cropp'd to keep you clear,
        By flight I'll shun the danger which I fear.

        [Exit]

        [Re-enter ANTIOCHUS]

ANTIOCHUS       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 loathed manner;
        And therefore instantly this prince must die:
        For by his fall my honour must keep high.
        Who attends us there?

        [Enter THALIARD]

THALIARD        Doth your highness call?

ANTIOCHUS       Thaliard,
        You are of our chamber, and our mind partakes
        Her private actions to your secrecy;
        And for your faithfulness we will advance you.
        Thaliard, behold, here's poison, and here's gold;
        We hate the prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him:
        It fits thee not to ask the reason why,
        Because we bid it. Say, is it done?

THALIARD        My lord,
        'Tis done.

ANTIOCHUS                Enough.

        [Enter a Messenger]

        Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.

Messenger       My lord, prince Pericles is fled.

        [Exit]

ANTIOCHUS       As thou
        Wilt live, fly after: and like an arrow shot
        From a well-experienced archer hits the mark
        His eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return
        Unless thou say 'Prince Pericles is dead.'

THALIARD        My lord,
        If I can get him within my pistol's length,
        I'll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness.

ANTIOCHUS       Thaliard, adieu!

        [Exit THALIARD]

        Till Pericles be dead,
        My heart can lend no succor to my head.

        [Exit]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT I



SCENE II        Tyre. A room in the palace.


        [Enter PERICLES]

PERICLES        [To Lords without]  Let none disturb us.--Why should
        this change of thoughts,
        The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy,
        Be my so used a guest as not an hour,
        In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night,
        The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed me quiet?
        Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun them,
        And danger, which I fear'd, is at Antioch,
        Whose aim 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.
        Then it is thus: the passions of the mind,
        That have their first conception by mis-dread,
        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.
        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 honour him.
        If he suspect I may dishonour him:
        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'erspread the land,
        And with the ostent of war will look so huge,
        Amazement shall drive courage from the state;
        Our men be vanquish'd ere they do resist,
        And subjects punish'd that ne'er thought offence:
        Which care of them, not pity of myself,
        Who am no more but as the tops of trees,
        Which fence the roots they grow by and defend them,
        Makes both my body pine and soul to languish,
        And punish that before that he would punish.

        [Enter HELICANUS, with other Lords]

First Lord      Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast!

Second Lord     And keep your mind, till you return to us,
        Peaceful and comfortable!

HELICANUS       Peace, peace, and give experience tongue.
        They do abuse the king that flatter him:
        For flattery is the bellows blows up sin;
        The thing which is flatter'd, but a spark,
        To which that blast 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 a peace,
        He flatters you, makes war upon your life.
        Prince, pardon me, or strike me, if you please;
        I cannot be much lower than my knees.

PERICLES        All leave us else; but let your cares o'erlook
        What shipping and what lading's in our haven,
        And then return to us.

        [Exeunt Lords]

                 Helicanus, thou
        Hast moved us: what seest thou in our looks?

HELICANUS       An angry brow, dread lord.

PERICLES        If there be such a dart in princes' frowns,
        How durst thy tongue move anger to our face?

HELICANUS       How dare the plants look up to heaven, from whence
        They have their nourishment?

PERICLES        Thou know'st I have power
        To take thy life from thee.

HELICANUS       [Kneeling]

                     I have ground the axe myself;
        Do you but strike the blow.

PERICLES        Rise, prithee, rise.
        Sit down: thou art no flatterer:
        I thank thee for it; and heaven forbid
        That kings should let their ears hear their
        faults hid!
        Fit counsellor and servant for a prince,
        Who by thy wisdom makest a prince thy servant,
        What wouldst thou have me do?

HELICANUS       To bear with patience
        Such griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself.

PERICLES        Thou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus,
        That minister'st a potion unto me
        That thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself.
        Attend me, then: I went to Antioch,
        Where as thou know'st, against the face of death,
        I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty.
        From whence an issue I might propagate,
        Are arms to princes, and bring joys to subjects.
        Her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder;
        The rest--hark in thine ear--as black as incest:
        Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father
        Seem'd not to strike, but smooth: but thou
        know'st this,
        'Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.
        Such fear so grew in me, I hither fled,
        Under the covering of a careful night,
        Who seem'd my good protector; and, being here,
        Bethought me what was past, what might succeed.
        I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants' fears
        Decrease not, but grow faster than the years:
        And should he doubt it, as no doubt he doth,
        That I should open to the listening 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 pretence of wrong that I have done him:
        When all, for mine, if I may call offence,
        Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence:
        Which love to all, of which thyself art one,
        Who now reprovest me for it,--

HELICANUS       Alas, sir!

PERICLES        Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks,
        Musings into my mind, with thousand doubts
        How I might stop this tempest ere it came;
        And finding little comfort to relieve them,
        I thought it princely charity to grieve them.

HELICANUS       Well, my lord, since you have given me leave to speak.
        Freely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,
        And justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,
        Who either by public war or private treason
        Will take away your life.
        Therefore, my lord, go travel for a while,
        Till that his rage and anger be forgot,
        Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.
        Your rule direct to any; if to me.
        Day serves not light more faithful than I'll be.

PERICLES        I do not doubt thy faith;
        But should he wrong my liberties in my absence?

HELICANUS       We'll mingle our bloods together in the earth,
        From whence we had our being and our birth.

PERICLES        Tyre, I now look from thee then, and to Tarsus
        Intend my travel, where I'll hear from thee;
        And by whose letters I'll dispose myself.
        The care I had and have of subjects' good
        On thee I lay whose wisdom's strength can bear it.
        I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath:
        Who shuns not to break one will sure crack both:
        But in our orbs we'll live so round and safe,
        That time of both this truth shall ne'er convince,
        Thou show'dst a subject's shine, I a true prince.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT I



SCENE III       Tyre. An ante-chamber in the palace.


        [Enter THALIARD]

THALIARD        So, this is Tyre, and this the court. Here must I
        kill King Pericles; and if I do it not, I am sure to
        be hanged at home: 'tis dangerous. Well, I perceive
        he was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, that,
        being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired
        he might know none of his secrets: now do I see he
        had some reason for't; for if a king bid a man be a
        villain, he's bound by the indenture of his oath to
        be one! Hush! here come the lords of Tyre.

        [Enter HELICANUS and ESCANES, with other Lords of Tyre]

HELICANUS       You shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre,
        Further to question me of your king's departure:
        His seal'd commission, left in trust with me,
        Doth speak sufficiently he's gone to travel.

THALIARD        [Aside]  How! the king gone!

HELICANUS       If further yet you will be satisfied,
        Why, as it were unlicensed of your loves,
        He would depart, I'll give some light unto you.
        Being at Antioch--

THALIARD        [Aside]          What from Antioch?

HELICANUS       Royal Antiochus--on what cause I know not--
        Took some displeasure at him; at least he judged so:
        And doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd,
        To show his sorrow, he'ld correct himself;
        So puts himself unto the shipman's toil,
        With whom each minute threatens life or death.

THALIARD        [Aside]  Well, I perceive
        I shall not be hang'd now, although I would;
        But since he's gone, the king's seas must please:
        He 'scaped the land, to perish at the sea.
        I'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!

HELICANUS       Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.

THALIARD        From him I come
        With message unto princely Pericles;
        But since my landing I have understood
        Your lord has betook himself to unknown travels,
        My message must return from whence it came.

HELICANUS       We have no reason to desire it,
        Commended to our master, not to us:
        Yet, ere you shall depart, this we desire,
        As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT I



SCENE IV        Tarsus. A room in the Governor's house.


        [Enter CLEON, the governor of Tarsus, with DIONYZA,
        and others]

CLEON   My Dionyza, shall we rest us here,
        And by relating tales of others' griefs,
        See if 'twill teach us to forget our own?

DIONYZA That were to blow at fire in hope to quench it;
        For who digs hills because they do aspire
        Throws down one mountain to cast up a higher.
        O my distressed lord, even such our griefs are;
        Here they're but felt, and seen with mischief's eyes,
        But like to groves, being topp'd, they higher rise.

CLEON   O Dionyza,
        Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it,
        Or can conceal his hunger till he famish?
        Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep
        Our woes into the air; our eyes do weep,
        Till tongues fetch breath that may proclaim them louder;
        That, if heaven slumber while their creatures want,
        They may awake their helps to comfort them.
        I'll then discourse our woes, felt several years,
        And wanting breath to speak help me with tears.

DIONYZA I'll do my best, sir.

CLEON   This Tarsus, o'er which I have the government,
        A city on whom plenty held full hand,
        For riches strew'd herself even in the streets;
        Whose towers bore heads so high they kiss'd the clouds,
        And strangers ne'er beheld but wondered at;
        Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn'd,
        Like one another's glass to trim them by:
        Their tables were stored full, to glad the sight,
        And not so much to feed on as delight;
        All poverty was scorn'd, and pride so great,
        The name of help grew odious to repeat.

DIONYZA O, 'tis too true.

CLEON   But see what heaven can do! By this our change,
        These mouths, who but of late, earth, sea, and air,
        Were all too little to content and please,
        Although they gave their creatures in abundance,
        As houses are defiled for want of use,
        They are now starved for want of exercise:
        Those palates who, not yet two summers younger,
        Must have inventions to delight the taste,
        Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it:
        Those mothers who, to nousle up their babes,
        Thought nought too curious, are ready now
        To eat those little darlings whom they loved.
        So sharp are hunger's teeth, that man and wife
        Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life:
        Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping;
        Here many sink, yet those which see them fall
        Have scarce strength left to give them burial.
        Is not this true?

DIONYZA Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it.

CLEON   O, let those cities that of plenty's cup
        And her prosperities so largely taste,
        With their superfluous riots, hear these tears!
        The misery of Tarsus may be theirs.

        [Enter a Lord]

Lord    Where's the lord governor?

CLEON   Here.
        Speak out thy sorrows which thou bring'st in haste,
        For comfort is too far for us to expect.

Lord    We have descried, upon our neighbouring shore,
        A portly sail of ships make hitherward.

CLEON   I thought as much.
        One sorrow never comes but brings an heir,
        That may succeed as his inheritor;
        And so in ours: some neighbouring nation,
        Taking advantage of our misery,
        Hath stuff'd these hollow vessels with their power,
        To beat us down, the which are down already;
        And make a conquest of unhappy me,
        Whereas no glory's got to overcome.

Lord    That's the least fear; for, by the semblance
        Of their white flags display'd, they bring us peace,
        And come to us as favourers, not as foes.

CLEON   Thou speak'st like him's untutor'd to repeat:
        Who makes the fairest show means most deceit.
        But bring they what they will and what they can,
        What need we fear?
        The ground's the lowest, and we are half way there.
        Go tell their general we attend him here,
        To know for what he comes, and whence he comes,
        And what he craves.

Lord    I go, my lord.

        [Exit]

CLEON   Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist;
        If wars, we are unable to resist.

        [Enter PERICLES with Attendants]

PERICLES        Lord governor, for so we hear you are,
        Let not our ships and number of our men
        Be like a beacon fired to amaze your eyes.
        We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre,
        And seen the desolation of your streets:
        Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears,
        But to relieve them of their heavy load;
        And these our ships, you happily may think
        Are like the Trojan horse was stuff'd within
        With bloody veins, expecting overthrow,
        Are stored with corn to make your needy bread,
        And give them life whom hunger starved half dead.

All     The gods of Greece protect you!
        And we'll pray for you.

PERICLES        Arise, I pray you, rise:
        We do not look for reverence, but to love,
        And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men.

CLEON   The which when any shall not gratify,
        Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought,
        Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves,
        The curse of heaven and men succeed their evils!
        Till when,--the which I hope shall ne'er be seen,--
        Your grace is welcome to our town and us.

PERICLES        Which welcome we'll accept; feast here awhile,
        Until our stars that frown lend us a smile.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT II


        [Enter GOWER]

GOWER   Here have you seen a mighty king
        His child, I wis, to incest bring;
        A better prince and benign lord,
        That will prove awful both in deed and word.
        Be quiet then as men should be,
        Till he hath pass'd necessity.
        I'll show you those in troubles reign,
        Losing a mite, a mountain gain.
        The good in conversation,
        To whom I give my benison,
        Is still at Tarsus, where each man
        Thinks all is writ he speken can;
        And, to remember what he does,
        Build his statue to make him glorious:
        But tidings to the contrary
        Are brought your eyes; what need speak I?

        DUMB SHOW.

        [Enter at one door PERICLES talking with CLEON; all
        the train with them. Enter at another door a
        Gentleman, with a letter to PERICLES; PERICLES
        shows the letter to CLEON; gives the Messenger a
        reward, and knights him. Exit PERICLES at one
        door, and CLEON at another]

        Good Helicane, that stay'd at home,
        Not to eat honey like a drone
        From others' labours; for though he strive
        To killen bad, keep good alive;
        And to fulfil his prince' desire,
        Sends word of all that haps in Tyre:
        How Thaliard came full bent with sin
        And had intent to murder him;
        And that in Tarsus was not best
        Longer for him to make his rest.
        He, doing so, put forth to seas,
        Where when men been, there's seldom ease;
        For now the wind begins to blow;
        Thunder above and deeps below
        Make such unquiet, that the ship
        Should house him safe is wreck'd and split;
        And he, good prince, having all lost,
        By waves from coast to coast is tost:
        All perishen of man, of pelf,
        Ne aught escapen but himself;
        Till fortune, tired with doing bad,
        Threw him ashore, to give him glad:
        And here he comes. What shall be next,
        Pardon old Gower,--this longs the text.

        [Exit]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT II



SCENE I Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.


        [Enter PERICLES, wet]

PERICLES        Yet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!
        Wind, rain, and thunder, remember, earthly man
        Is but a substance that must yield to you;
        And I, as fits my nature, do obey you:
        Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks,
        Wash'd me from shore to shore, and left me breath
        Nothing to think on but ensuing death:
        Let it suffice the greatness of your powers
        To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes;
        And having thrown him from your watery grave,
        Here to have death in peace is all he'll crave.

        [Enter three FISHERMEN]

First Fisherman What, ho, Pilch!

Second Fisherman        Ha, come and bring away the nets!

First Fisherman What, Patch-breech, I say!

Third Fisherman What say you, master?

First Fisherman Look how thou stirrest now! come away, or I'll
        fetch thee with a wanion.

Third Fisherman Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that
        were cast away before us even now.

First Fisherman Alas, poor souls, it grieved my heart to hear what
        pitiful cries they made to us to help them, when,
        well-a-day, we could scarce help ourselves.

Third Fisherman Nay, master, said not I as much when I saw the
        porpus how he bounced and tumbled? they say
        they're half fish, half flesh: a plague on them,
        they ne'er come but I look to be washed. Master, I
        marvel how the fishes live in the sea.

First Fisherman Why, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the
        little ones: I can compare our rich misers to
        nothing so fitly as to a whale; a' plays and
        tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at
        last devours them all at a mouthful: such whales
        have I heard on o' the land, who never leave gaping
        till they've swallowed the whole parish, church,
        steeple, bells, and all.

PERICLES        [Aside]  A pretty moral.

Third Fisherman But, master, if I had been the sexton, I would have
        been that day in the belfry.

Second Fisherman        Why, man?

Third Fisherman Because he should have swallowed me too: and when I
        had been in his belly, I would have kept such a
        jangling of the bells, that he should never have
        left, till he cast bells, steeple, church, and
        parish up again. But if the good King Simonides
        were of my mind,--

PERICLES        [Aside]  Simonides!

Third Fisherman We would purge the land of these drones, that rob
        the bee of her honey.

PERICLES        [Aside]  How from the finny subject of the sea
        These fishers tell the infirmities of men;
        And from their watery empire recollect
        All that may men approve or men detect!
        Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.

Second Fisherman        Honest! good fellow, what's that? If it be a day
        fits you, search out of the calendar, and nobody
        look after it.

PERICLES        May see the sea hath cast upon your coast.

Second Fisherman        What a drunken knave was the sea to cast thee in our
        way!

PERICLES        A man whom both the waters and the wind,
        In that vast tennis-court, have made the ball
        For them to play upon, entreats you pity him:
        He asks of you, that never used to beg.

First Fisherman No, friend, cannot you beg? Here's them in our
        country Greece gets more with begging than we can do
        with working.

Second Fisherman        Canst thou catch any fishes, then?

PERICLES        I never practised it.

Second Fisherman        Nay, then thou wilt starve, sure; for here's nothing
        to be got now-a-days, unless thou canst fish for't.

PERICLES        What I have been I have forgot to know;
        But what I am, want teaches me to think on:
        A man throng'd 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;
        Which if you shall refuse, when I am dead,
        For that I am a man, pray see me buried.

First Fisherman Die quoth-a? Now gods forbid! I have a gown here;
        come, put it on; keep thee warm. Now, afore me, a
        handsome fellow! Come, thou shalt go home, and
        we'll have flesh for holidays, fish for
        fasting-days, and moreo'er puddings and flap-jacks,
        and thou shalt be welcome.

PERICLES        I thank you, sir.

Second Fisherman        Hark you, my friend; you said you could not beg.

PERICLES        I did but crave.

Second Fisherman        But crave! Then I'll turn craver too, and so I
        shall 'scape whipping.

PERICLES        Why, are all your beggars whipped, then?

Second Fisherman        O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your
        beggars were whipped, I would wish no better office
        than to be beadle. But, master, I'll go draw up the
        net.

        [Exit with Third Fisherman]

PERICLES        [Aside]  How well this honest mirth becomes their labour!

First Fisherman Hark you, sir, do you know where ye are?

PERICLES        Not well.

First Fisherman Why, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and
        our king the good Simonides.

PERICLES        The good King Simonides, do you call him.

First Fisherman Ay, sir; and he deserves so to be called for his
        peaceable reign and good government.

PERICLES        He is a happy king, since he gains from his subjects
        the name of good by his government. How far is his
        court distant from this shore?

First Fisherman Marry, sir, half a day's journey: and I'll tell
        you, he hath a fair daughter, and to-morrow is her
        birth-day; and there are princes and knights come
        from all parts of the world to just and tourney for her love.

PERICLES        Were my fortunes equal to my desires, I could wish
        to make one there.

First Fisherman O, sir, things must be as they may; and what a man
        cannot get, he may lawfully deal for--his wife's soul.

        [Re-enter Second and Third Fishermen, drawing up a net]

Second Fisherman        Help, master, help! here's a fish hangs in the net,
        like a poor man's right in the law; 'twill hardly
        come out. Ha! bots on't, 'tis come at last, and
        'tis turned to a rusty armour.

PERICLES        An armour, friends! I pray you, let me see it.
        Thanks, fortune, yet, that, after all my crosses,
        Thou givest me somewhat to repair myself;
        And though it was mine own, part of my heritage,
        Which my dead father did bequeath to me.
        With this strict charge, even as he left his life,
        'Keep it, my Pericles; it hath been a shield
        Twixt me and death;'--and pointed to this brace;--
        'For that it saved me, keep it; in like necessity--
        The which the gods protect thee from!--may
        defend thee.'
        It kept where I kept, I so dearly loved it;
        Till the rough seas, that spare not any man,
        Took it in rage, though calm'd have given't again:
        I thank thee for't: my shipwreck now's no ill,
        Since I have here my father's gift in's will.

First Fisherman What mean you, sir?

PERICLES        To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of worth,
        For it was sometime target to a king;
        I know it by this mark. He loved me dearly,
        And for his sake I wish the having of it;
        And that you'ld guide me to your sovereign's court,
        Where with it I may appear a gentleman;
        And if that ever my low fortune's better,
        I'll pay your bounties; till then rest your debtor.

First Fisherman Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady?

PERICLES        I'll show the virtue I have borne in arms.

First Fisherman Why, do 'e take it, and the gods give thee good on't!

Second Fisherman        Ay, but hark you, my friend; 'twas we that made up
        this garment through the rough seams of the waters:
        there are certain condolements, certain vails. I
        hope, sir, if you thrive, you'll remember from
        whence you had it.

PERICLES        Believe 't, I will.
        By your furtherance I am clothed in steel;
        And, spite of all the rapture of the sea,
        This jewel holds his building on my arm:
        Unto thy value I will mount myself
        Upon a courser, whose delightful steps
        Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread.
        Only, my friend, I yet am unprovided
        Of a pair of bases.

Second Fisherman        We'll sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to
        make thee a pair; and I'll bring thee to the court myself.

PERICLES        Then honour be but a goal to my will,
        This day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT II



SCENE II        The same. A public way or platform leading to the
        lists. A pavilion by the side of it for the
        reception of King, Princess, Lords, &c.


        [Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, and Attendants]

SIMONIDES       Are the knights ready to begin the triumph?

First Lord      They are, my liege;
        And stay your coming to present themselves.

SIMONIDES       Return them, we are ready; and our daughter,
        In honour of whose birth these triumphs are,
        Sits here, like beauty's child, whom nature gat
        For men to see, and seeing wonder at.

        [Exit a Lord]

THAISA  It pleaseth you, my royal father, to express
        My commendations great, whose merit's less.

SIMONIDES       It's fit it should be so; for princes are
        A model which heaven makes like to itself:
        As jewels lose their glory if neglected,
        So princes their renowns if not respected.
        'Tis now your honour, daughter, to explain
        The labour of each knight in his device.

THAISA  Which, to preserve mine honour, I'll perform.

        [Enter a Knight; he passes over, and his Squire
        presents his shield to the Princess]

SIMONIDES       Who is the first that doth prefer himself?

THAISA  A knight of Sparta, my renowned father;
        And the device he bears upon his shield
        Is a black Ethiope reaching at the sun
        The word, 'Lux tua vita mihi.'

SIMONIDES       He loves you well that holds his life of you.

        [The Second Knight passes over]

        Who is the second that presents himself?

THAISA  A prince of Macedon, my royal father;
        And the device he bears upon his shield
        Is an arm'd knight that's conquer'd by a lady;
        The motto thus, in Spanish, 'Piu por dulzura que por fuerza.'

        [The Third Knight passes over]

SIMONIDES       And what's the third?

THAISA  The third of Antioch;
        And his device, a wreath of chivalry;
        The word, 'Me pompae provexit apex.'

        [The Fourth Knight passes over]

SIMONIDES       What is the fourth?

THAISA  A burning torch that's turned upside down;
        The word, 'Quod me alit, me extinguit.'

SIMONIDES       Which shows that beauty hath his power and will,
        Which can as well inflame as it can kill.

        [The Fifth Knight passes over]

THAISA  The fifth, an hand environed with clouds,
        Holding out gold that's by the touchstone tried;
        The motto thus, 'Sic spectanda fides.'

        [The Sixth Knight, PERICLES, passes over]

SIMONIDES       And what's
        The sixth and last, the which the knight himself
        With such a graceful courtesy deliver'd?

THAISA  He seems to be a stranger; but his present is
        A wither'd branch, that's only green at top;
        The motto, 'In hac spe vivo.'

SIMONIDES       A pretty moral;
        From the dejected state wherein he is,
        He hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish.

First Lord      He had need mean better than his outward show
        Can any way speak in his just commend;
        For by his rusty outside he appears
        To have practised more the whipstock than the lance.

Second Lord     He well may be a stranger, for he comes
        To an honour'd triumph strangely furnished.

Third Lord      And on set purpose let his armour rust
        Until this day, to scour it in the dust.

SIMONIDES       Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan
        The outward habit by the inward man.
        But stay, the knights are coming: we will withdraw
        Into the gallery.

        [Exeunt]

        [Great shouts within and all cry 'The mean knight!']




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT II



SCENE III       The same. A hall of state: a banquet prepared.


        [Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, Attendants, and
        Knights, from tilting]

SIMONIDES       Knights,
        To say you're welcome were superfluous.
        To place upon the volume of your deeds,
        As in a title-page, your worth in arms,
        Were more than you expect, or more than's fit,
        Since every worth in show commends itself.
        Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast:
        You are princes and my guests.

THAISA  But you, my knight and guest;
        To whom this wreath of victory I give,
        And crown you king of this day's happiness.

PERICLES        'Tis more by fortune, lady, than by merit.

SIMONIDES       Call it by what you will, the day is yours;
        And here, I hope, is none that envies it.
        In framing an artist, art hath thus decreed,
        To make some good, but others to exceed;
        And you are her labour'd scholar. Come, queen o'
        the feast,--
        For, daughter, so you are,--here take your place:
        Marshal the rest, as they deserve their grace.

KNIGHTS We are honour'd much by good Simonides.

SIMONIDES       Your presence glads our days: honour we love;
        For who hates honour hates the gods above.

Marshal Sir, yonder is your place.

PERICLES        Some other is more fit.

First Knight    Contend not, sir; for we are gentlemen
        That neither in our hearts nor outward eyes
        Envy the great nor do the low despise.

PERICLES        You are right courteous knights.

SIMONIDES       Sit, sir, sit.

PERICLES        By Jove, I wonder, that is king of thoughts,
        These cates resist me, she but thought upon.

THAISA  By Juno, that is queen of marriage,
        All viands that I eat do seem unsavoury.
        Wishing him my meat. Sure, he's a gallant gentleman.

SIMONIDES       He's but a country gentleman;
        Has done no more than other knights have done;
        Has broken a staff or so; so let it pass.

THAISA  To me he seems like diamond to glass.

PERICLES        Yon king's to me like to my father's picture,
        Which tells me in that glory once he was;
        Had princes sit, like stars, about his throne,
        And he the sun, for them to reverence;
        None that beheld him, but, like lesser lights,
        Did vail their crowns to his supremacy:
        Where now his son's like a glow-worm in the night,
        The which hath fire in darkness, none in light:
        Whereby I see that Time's the king of men,
        He's both their parent, and he is their grave,
        And gives them what he will, not what they crave.

SIMONIDES       What, are you merry, knights?

Knights Who can be other in this royal presence?

SIMONIDES       Here, with a cup that's stored unto the brim,--
        As you do love, fill to your mistress' lips,--
        We drink this health to you.

KNIGHTS We thank your grace.

SIMONIDES       Yet pause awhile:
        Yon knight doth sit too melancholy,
        As if the entertainment in our court
        Had not a show might countervail his worth.
        Note it not you, Thaisa?

THAISA  What is it
        To me, my father?

SIMONIDES                         O, attend, my daughter:
        Princes in this should live like gods above,
        Who freely give to every one that comes
        To honour them:
        And princes not doing so are like to gnats,
        Which make a sound, but kill'd are wonder'd at.
        Therefore to make his entrance more sweet,
        Here, say we drink this standing-bowl of wine to him.

THAISA  Alas, my father, it befits not me
        Unto a stranger knight to be so bold:
        He may my proffer take for an offence,
        Since men take women's gifts for impudence.

SIMONIDES       How!
        Do as I bid you, or you'll move me else.

THAISA  [Aside]  Now, by the gods, he could not please me better.

SIMONIDES       And furthermore tell him, we desire to know of him,
        Of whence he is, his name and parentage.

THAISA  The king my father, sir, has drunk to you.

PERICLES        I thank him.

THAISA  Wishing it so much blood unto your life.

PERICLES        I thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.

THAISA  And further he desires to know of you,
        Of whence you are, your name and parentage.

PERICLES        A gentleman of Tyre; my name, Pericles;
        My education been in arts and arms;
        Who, looking for adventures in the world,
        Was by the rough seas reft of ships and men,
        And after shipwreck driven upon this shore.

THAISA  He thanks your grace; names himself Pericles,
        A gentleman of Tyre,
        Who only by misfortune of the seas
        Bereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.

SIMONIDES       Now, by the gods, I pity his misfortune,
        And will awake him from his melancholy.
        Come, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,
        And waste the time, which looks for other revels.
        Even in your armours, as you are address'd,
        Will very well become a soldier's dance.
        I will not have excuse, with saying this
        Loud music is too harsh for ladies' heads,
        Since they love men in arms as well as beds.

        [The Knights dance]

        So, this was well ask'd,'twas so well perform'd.
        Come, sir;
        Here is a lady that wants breathing too:
        And I have heard, you knights of Tyre
        Are excellent in making ladies trip;
        And that their measures are as excellent.

PERICLES        In those that practise them they are, my lord.

SIMONIDES       O, that's as much as you would be denied
        Of your fair courtesy.

        [The Knights and Ladies dance]

                 Unclasp, unclasp:
        Thanks, gentlemen, to all; all have done well.

        [To PERICLES]

        But you the best. Pages and lights, to conduct
        These knights unto their several lodgings!

        [To PERICLES]

                         Yours, sir,
        We have given order to be next our own.

PERICLES        I am at your grace's pleasure.

SIMONIDES       Princes, it is too late to talk of love;
        And that's the mark I know you level at:
        Therefore each one betake him to his rest;
        To-morrow all for speeding do their best.

        [Exeunt]



        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT II



SCENE IV        Tyre. A room in the Governor's house.


        [Enter HELICANUS and ESCANES]

HELICANUS       No, Escanes, know this of me,
        Antiochus from incest lived not free:
        For which, the most high gods not minding longer
        To withhold the vengeance that they had in store,
        Due to this heinous capital offence,
        Even in the height and pride of all his glory,
        When he was seated in a chariot
        Of an inestimable value, and his daughter with him,
        A fire from heaven came and shrivell'd up
        Their bodies, even to loathing; for they so stunk,
        That all those eyes adored them ere their fall
        Scorn now their hand should give them burial.

ESCANES 'Twas very strange.

HELICANUS       And yet but justice; for though
        This king were great, his greatness was no guard
        To bar heaven's shaft, but sin had his reward.

ESCANES 'Tis very true.

        [Enter two or three Lords]

First Lord      See, not a man in private conference
        Or council has respect with him but he.

Second Lord     It shall no longer grieve without reproof.

Third Lord      And cursed be he that will not second it.

First Lord      Follow me, then. Lord Helicane, a word.

HELICANUS       With me? and welcome: happy day, my lords.

First Lord      Know that our griefs are risen to the top,
        And now at length they overflow their banks.

HELICANUS       Your griefs! for what? wrong not your prince you love.

First Lord      Wrong not yourself, then, noble Helicane;
        But if the prince do live, let us salute him,
        Or know what ground's made happy by his breath.
        If in the world he live, we'll seek him out;
        If in his grave he rest, we'll find him there;
        And be resolved he lives to govern us,
        Or dead, give's cause to mourn his funeral,
        And leave us to our free election.

Second Lord     Whose death indeed's the strongest in our censure:
        And knowing this kingdom is without a head,--
        Like goodly buildings left without a roof
        Soon fall to ruin,--your noble self,
        That best know how to rule and how to reign,
        We thus submit unto,--our sovereign.

All     Live, noble Helicane!

HELICANUS       For honour's cause, forbear your suffrages:
        If that you love Prince Pericles, forbear.
        Take I your wish, I leap into the seas,
        Where's hourly trouble for a minute's ease.
        A twelvemonth longer, let me entreat you to
        Forbear the absence of your king:
        If in which time expired, he not return,
        I shall with aged patience bear your yoke.
        But if I cannot win you to this love,
        Go search like nobles, like noble subjects,
        And in your search spend your adventurous worth;
        Whom if you find, and win unto return,
        You shall like diamonds sit about his crown.

First Lord      To wisdom he's a fool that will not yield;
        And since Lord Helicane enjoineth us,
        We with our travels will endeavour us.

HELICANUS       Then you love us, we you, and we'll clasp hands:
        When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT II



SCENE V Pentapolis. A room in the palace.


        [Enter SIMONIDES, reading a letter, at one door:
        the Knights meet him]

First Knight    Good morrow to the good Simonides.

SIMONIDES       Knights, from my daughter this I let you know,
        That for this twelvemonth she'll not undertake
        A married life.
        Her reason to herself is only known,
        Which yet from her by no means can I get.

Second Knight   May we not get access to her, my lord?

SIMONIDES       'Faith, by no means; she has so strictly tied
        Her to her chamber, that 'tis impossible.
        One twelve moons more she'll wear Diana's livery;
        This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vow'd
        And on her virgin honour will not break it.

Third Knight    Loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves.

        [Exeunt Knights]

SIMONIDES       So,
        They are well dispatch'd; now to my daughter's letter:
        She tells me here, she'd wed the stranger knight,
        Or never more to view nor day nor light.
        'Tis well, mistress; your choice agrees with mine;
        I like that well: nay, how absolute she's in't,
        Not minding whether I dislike or no!
        Well, I do commend her choice;
        And will no longer have it be delay'd.
        Soft! here he comes: I must dissemble it.

        [Enter PERICLES]

PERICLES        All fortune to the good Simonides!

SIMONIDES       To you as much, sir! I am beholding to you
        For your sweet music this last night: I do
        Protest my ears were never better fed
        With such delightful pleasing harmony.

PERICLES        It is your grace's pleasure to commend;
        Not my desert.

SIMONIDES       Sir, you are music's master.

PERICLES        The worst of all her scholars, my good lord.

SIMONIDES       Let me ask you one thing:
        What do you think of my daughter, sir?

PERICLES        A most virtuous princess.

SIMONIDES       And she is fair too, is she not?

PERICLES        As a fair day in summer, wondrous fair.

SIMONIDES       Sir, my daughter thinks very well of you;
        Ay, so well, that you must be her master,
        And she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.

PERICLES        I am unworthy for her schoolmaster.

SIMONIDES       She thinks not so; peruse this writing else.

PERICLES        [Aside]  What's here?
        A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!
        'Tis the king's subtlety to have my life.
        O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord,
        A stranger and distressed gentleman,
        That never aim'd so high to love your daughter,
        But bent all offices to honour her.

SIMONIDES       Thou hast bewitch'd my daughter, and thou art
        A villain.

PERICLES        By the gods, I have not:
        Never did thought of mine levy offence;
        Nor never did my actions yet commence
        A deed might gain her love or your displeasure.

SIMONIDES       Traitor, thou liest.

PERICLES        Traitor!

SIMONIDES       Ay, traitor.

PERICLES        Even in his throat--unless it be the king--
        That calls me traitor, I return the lie.

SIMONIDES       [Aside]  Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage.

PERICLES        My actions are as noble as my thoughts,
        That never relish'd of a base descent.
        I came unto your court for honour's cause,
        And not to be a rebel to her state;
        And he that otherwise accounts of me,
        This sword shall prove he's honour's enemy.

SIMONIDES       No?
        Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.

        [Enter THAISA]

PERICLES        Then, as you are as virtuous as fair,
        Resolve your angry father, if my tongue
        Did ere solicit, or my hand subscribe
        To any syllable that made love to you.

THAISA  Why, sir, say if you had,
        Who takes offence at that would make me glad?

SIMONIDES       Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory?

        [Aside]

        I am glad on't with all my heart.--
        I'll tame you; I'll bring you in subjection.
        Will you, not having my consent,
        Bestow your love and your affections
        Upon a stranger?

        [Aside]

        who, for aught I know,
        May be, nor can I think the contrary,
        As great in blood as I myself.--
        Therefore hear you, mistress; either frame
        Your will to mine,--and you, sir, hear you,
        Either be ruled by me, or I will make you--
        Man and wife:
        Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too:
        And being join'd, I'll thus your hopes destroy;
        And for a further grief,--God give you joy!--
        What, are you both pleased?

THAISA  Yes, if you love me, sir.

PERICLES        Even as my life, or blood that fosters it.

SIMONIDES       What, are you both agreed?

BOTH    Yes, if it please your majesty.

SIMONIDES       It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you wed;
        And then with what haste you can get you to bed.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT III


        [Enter GOWER]

GOWER   Now sleep y-slaked hath the rout;
        No din but snores the house about,
        Made louder by the o'er-fed breast
        Of this most pompous marriage-feast.
        The cat, with eyne of burning coal,
        Now crouches fore the mouse's hole;
        And crickets sing at the oven's mouth,
        E'er the blither for their drouth.
        Hymen hath brought the bride to bed.
        Where, by the loss of maidenhead,
        A babe is moulded. Be attent,
        And time that is so briefly spent
        With your fine fancies quaintly eche:
        What's dumb in show I'll plain with speech.

                DUMB SHOW.

        [Enter, PERICLES and SIMONIDES at one door, with
        Attendants; a Messenger meets them, kneels, and
        gives PERICLES a letter: PERICLES shows it
        SIMONIDES; the Lords kneel to him. Then enter
        THAISA with child, with LYCHORIDA a nurse. The
        KING shows her the letter; she rejoices: she and
        PERICLES takes leave of her father, and depart with
        LYCHORIDA and their Attendants. Then exeunt
        SIMONIDES and the rest]

        By many a dern and painful perch
        Of Pericles the careful search,
        By the four opposing coigns
        Which the world together joins,
        Is made with all due diligence
        That horse and sail and high expense
        Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre,
        Fame answering the most strange inquire,
        To the court of King Simonides
        Are letters brought, the tenor these:
        Antiochus and his daughter dead;
        The men of Tyrus on the head
        Of Helicanus would set on
        The crown of Tyre, but he will none:
        The mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;
        Says to 'em, if King Pericles
        Come not home in twice six moons,
        He, obedient to their dooms,
        Will take the crown. The sum of this,
        Brought hither to Pentapolis,
        Y-ravished the regions round,
        And every one with claps can sound,
        'Our heir-apparent is a king!
        Who dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'
        Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre:
        His queen with child makes her desire--
        Which who shall cross?--along to go:
        Omit we all their dole and woe:
        Lychorida, her nurse, she takes,
        And so to sea. Their vessel shakes
        On Neptune's billow; half the flood
        Hath their keel cut: but fortune's mood
        Varies again; the grisly north
        Disgorges such a tempest forth,
        That, as a duck for life that dives,
        So up and down the poor ship drives:
        The lady shrieks, and well-a-near
        Does fall in travail with her fear:
        And what ensues in this fell storm
        Shall for itself itself perform.
        I nill relate, action may
        Conveniently the rest convey;
        Which might not what by me is told.
        In your imagination hold
        This stage the ship, upon whose deck
        The sea-tost Pericles appears to speak.

        [Exit]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT III



SCENE I:


        [Enter PERICLES, on shipboard]

PERICLES        Thou god of this great vast, rebuke these surges,
        Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that hast
        Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,
        Having call'd them from the deep! O, still
        Thy deafening, dreadful thunders; gently quench
        Thy nimble, sulphurous flashes! O, how, Lychorida,
        How does my queen? Thou stormest venomously;
        Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman's whistle
        Is as a whisper in the ears of death,
        Unheard. Lychorida!--Lucina, O
        Divinest patroness, and midwife gentle
        To those that cry by night, convey thy deity
        Aboard our dancing boat; make swift the pangs
        Of my queen's travails!

        [Enter LYCHORIDA, with an Infant]

                  Now, Lychorida!

LYCHORIDA       Here is a thing too young for such a place,
        Who, if it had conceit, would die, as I
        Am like to do: take in your arms this piece
        Of your dead queen.

PERICLES        How, how, Lychorida!

LYCHORIDA       Patience, good sir; do not assist the storm.
        Here's all that is left living of your queen,
        A little daughter: for the sake of it,
        Be manly, and take comfort.

PERICLES        O you gods!
        Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,
        And snatch them straight away? We here below
        Recall not what we give, and therein may
        Use honour with you.

LYCHORIDA       Patience, good sir,
        Even for this charge.

PERICLES        Now, mild may be thy life!
        For a more blustrous birth had never babe:
        Quiet and gentle thy conditions! for
        Thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world
        That ever was prince's child. Happy what follows!
        Thou hast as chiding a nativity
        As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make,
        To herald thee from the womb: even at the first
        Thy loss is more than can thy portage quit,
        With all thou canst find here. Now, the good gods
        Throw their best eyes upon't!

        [Enter two Sailors]

First Sailor    What courage, sir? God save you!

PERICLES        Courage enough: I do not fear the flaw;
        It hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the love
        Of this poor infant, this fresh-new sea-farer,
        I would it would be quiet.

First Sailor    Slack the bolins there! Thou wilt not, wilt thou?
        Blow, and split thyself.

Second Sailor   But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss
        the moon, I care not.

First Sailor    Sir, your queen must overboard: the sea works high,
        the wind is loud, and will not lie till the ship be
        cleared of the dead.

PERICLES        That's your superstition.

First Sailor    Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it hath been still
        observed: and we are strong in custom. Therefore
        briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight.

PERICLES        As you think meet. Most wretched queen!

LYCHORIDA       Here she lies, sir.

PERICLES        A terrible childbed hast thou had, my dear;
        No light, no fire: the unfriendly elements
        Forgot thee utterly: nor have I time
        To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight
        Must cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze;
        Where, for a monument upon thy bones,
        And e'er-remaining lamps, the belching whale
        And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,
        Lying with simple shells. O Lychorida,
        Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,
        My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander
        Bring me the satin coffer: lay the babe
        Upon the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say
        A priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.

        [Exit LYCHORIDA]

Second Sailor   Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked
        and bitumed ready.

PERICLES        I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?

Second Sailor   We are near Tarsus.

PERICLES        Thither, gentle mariner.
        Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it?

Second Sailor   By break of day, if the wind cease.

PERICLES        O, make for Tarsus!
        There will I visit Cleon, for the babe
        Cannot hold out to Tyrus: there I'll leave it
        At careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:
        I'll bring the body presently.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT III



SCENE II        Ephesus. A room in CERIMON's house.


        [Enter CERIMON, with a Servant, and some Persons who
        have been shipwrecked]

CERIMON Philemon, ho!

        [Enter PHILEMON]

PHILEMON        Doth my lord call?

CERIMON Get fire and meat for these poor men:
        'T has been a turbulent and stormy night.

Servant I have been in many; but such a night as this,
        Till now, I ne'er endured.

CERIMON Your master will be dead ere you return;
        There's nothing can be minister'd to nature
        That can recover him.

        [To PHILEMON]

                Give this to the 'pothecary,
        And tell me how it works.

        [Exeunt all but CERIMON]

        [Enter two Gentlemen]

First Gentleman Good morrow.

Second Gentleman        Good morrow to your lordship.

CERIMON Gentlemen,
        Why do you stir so early?

First Gentleman Sir,
        Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea,
        Shook as the earth did quake;
        The very principals did seem to rend,
        And all-to topple: pure surprise and fear
        Made me to quit the house.

Second Gentleman        That is the cause we trouble you so early;
        'Tis not our husbandry.

CERIMON O, you say well.

First Gentleman But I much marvel that your lordship, having
        Rich tire about you, should at these early hours
        Shake off the golden slumber of repose.
        'Tis most strange,
        Nature should be so conversant with pain,
        Being thereto not compell'd.

CERIMON I hold it ever,
        Virtue and cunning 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 physic, through which secret art,
        By turning o'er authorities, I have,
        Together with my practise, 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 doth 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,
        To please the fool and death.

Second Gentleman        Your honour has through Ephesus pour'd forth
        Your charity, and hundreds call themselves
        Your creatures, who by you have been restored:
        And not your knowledge, your personal pain, but even
        Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon
        Such strong renown as time shall ne'er decay.

        [Enter two or three Servants with a chest]

First Servant   So; lift there.

CERIMON                   What is that?

First Servant   Sir, even now
        Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest:
        'Tis of some wreck.

CERIMON Set 't down, let's look upon't.

Second Gentleman        'Tis like a coffin, sir.

CERIMON Whate'er it be,
        'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight:
        If the sea's stomach be o'ercharged with gold,
        'Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us.

Second Gentleman        'Tis so, my lord.

CERIMON                   How close 'tis caulk'd and bitumed!
        Did the sea cast it up?

First Servant   I never saw so huge a billow, sir,
        As toss'd it upon shore.

CERIMON Wrench it open;
        Soft! it smells most sweetly in my sense.

Second Gentleman        A delicate odour.

CERIMON As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it.
        O you most potent gods! what's here? a corse!

First Gentleman Most strange!

CERIMON Shrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and entreasured
        With full bags of spices! A passport too!
        Apollo, perfect me in the characters!

        [Reads from a scroll]

        'Here I give to understand,
        If e'er this coffin drive a-land,
        I, King Pericles, have lost
        This queen, worth all our mundane cost.
        Who finds her, give her burying;
        She was the daughter of a king:
        Besides this treasure for a fee,
        The gods requite his charity!'

        If thou livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart
        That even cracks for woe! This chanced tonight.

Second Gentleman        Most likely, sir.

CERIMON                   Nay, certainly to-night;
        For look how fresh she looks! They were too rough
        That threw her in the sea. Make a fire within:
        Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet.

        [Exit a Servant]

        Death may usurp on nature many hours,
        And yet the fire of life kindle again
        The o'erpress'd spirits. I heard of an Egyptian
        That had nine hours lien dead,
        Who was by good appliance recovered.

        [Re-enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire]

        Well said, well said; the fire and cloths.
        The rough and woeful music that we have,
        Cause it to sound, beseech you.
        The viol once more: how thou stirr'st, thou block!
        The music there!--I pray you, give her air.
        Gentlemen.
        This queen will live: nature awakes; a warmth
        Breathes out of her: she hath not been entranced
        Above five hours: see how she gins to blow
        Into life's flower again!

First Gentleman The heavens,
        Through you, increase our wonder and set up
        Your fame forever.

CERIMON                   She is alive; behold,
        Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels
        Which Pericles hath lost,
        Begin to part their fringes of bright gold;
        The diamonds of a most praised water
        Do appear, to make the world twice rich. Live,
        And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,
        Rare as you seem to be.

        [She moves]

THAISA  O dear Diana,
        Where am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?

Second Gentleman        Is not this strange?

First Gentleman Most rare.

CERIMON Hush, my gentle neighbours!
        Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her.
        Get linen: now this matter must be look'd to,
        For her relapse is mortal. Come, come;
        And AEsculapius guide us!

        [Exeunt, carrying her away]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT III



SCENE III       Tarsus. A room in CLEON's house.


        [Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, and LYCHORIDA with
        MARINA in her arms]

PERICLES         Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;
        My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands
        In a litigious peace. You, and your lady,
        Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods
        Make up the rest upon you!

CLEON   Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,
        Yet glance full wanderingly on us.

DIONYZA O your sweet queen!
        That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither,
        To have bless'd mine eyes with her!

PERICLES        We cannot but obey
        The powers above us. Could I rage and roar
        As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end
        Must be as 'tis. My gentle babe Marina, whom,
        For she was born at sea, I have named so, here
        I charge your charity withal, leaving her
        The infant of your care; beseeching you
        To give her princely training, that she may be
        Manner'd as she is born.

CLEON   Fear not, my lord, but think
        Your grace, that fed my country with your corn,
        For which the people's prayers still fall upon you,
        Must in your child be thought on. If neglection
        Should therein make me vile, the common body,
        By you relieved, would force me to my duty:
        But if to that my nature need a spur,
        The gods revenge it upon me and mine,
        To the end of generation!

PERICLES        I believe you;
        Your honour and your goodness teach me to't,
        Without your vows. Till she be married, madam,
        By bright Diana, whom we honour, all
        Unscissor'd shall this hair of mine remain,
        Though I show ill in't. So I take my leave.
        Good madam, make me blessed in your care
        In bringing up my child.

DIONYZA I have one myself,
        Who shall not be more dear to my respect
        Than yours, my lord.

PERICLES        Madam, my thanks and prayers.

CLEON   We'll bring your grace e'en to the edge o' the shore,
        Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune and
        The gentlest winds of heaven.

PERICLES        I will embrace
        Your offer. Come, dearest madam. O, no tears,
        Lychorida, no tears:
        Look to your little mistress, on whose grace
        You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT III



SCENE IV        Ephesus. A room in CERIMON's house.


        [Enter CERIMON and THAISA]

CERIMON Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels,
        Lay with you in your coffer: which are now
        At your command. Know you the character?

THAISA  It is my lord's.
        That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember,
        Even on my eaning time; but whether there
        Deliver'd, by the holy gods,
        I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles,
        My wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again,
        A vestal livery will I take me to,
        And never more have joy.

CERIMON Madam, if this you purpose as ye speak,
        Diana's temple is not distant far,
        Where you may abide till your date expire.
        Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine
        Shall there attend you.

THAISA  My recompense is thanks, that's all;
        Yet my good will is great, though the gift small.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT IV


        [Enter GOWER]

GOWER   Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre,
        Welcomed and settled to his own desire.
        His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,
        Unto Diana there a votaress.
        Now to Marina bend your mind,
        Whom our fast-growing scene must find
        At Tarsus, and by Cleon train'd
        In music, letters; who hath gain'd
        Of education all the grace,
        Which makes her both the heart and place
        Of general wonder. But, alack,
        That monster envy, oft the wrack
        Of earned praise, Marina's life
        Seeks to take off by treason's knife.
        And in this kind hath our Cleon
        One daughter, and a wench full grown,
        Even ripe for marriage-rite; this maid
        Hight Philoten: and it is said
        For certain in our story, she
        Would ever with Marina be:
        Be't when she weaved the sleided silk
        With fingers long, small, white as milk;
        Or when she would with sharp needle wound
        The cambric, which she made more sound
        By hurting it; or when to the lute
        She sung, and made the night-bird mute,
        That still records with moan; or when
        She would with rich and constant pen
        Vail to her mistress Dian; still
        This Philoten contends in skill
        With absolute Marina: so
        With the dove of Paphos might the crow
        Vie feathers white. Marina gets
        All praises, which are paid as debts,
        And not as given. This so darks
        In Philoten all graceful marks,
        That Cleon's wife, with envy rare,
        A present murderer does prepare
        For good Marina, that her daughter
        Might stand peerless by this slaughter.
        The sooner her vile thoughts to stead,
        Lychorida, our nurse, is dead:
        And cursed Dionyza hath
        The pregnant instrument of wrath
        Prest for this blow. The unborn event
        I do commend to your content:
        Only I carry winged time
        Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;
        Which never could I so convey,
        Unless your thoughts went on my way.
        Dionyza does appear,
        With Leonine, a murderer.

        [Exit]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT IV



SCENE I Tarsus. An open place near the sea-shore.


        [Enter DIONYZA and LEONINE]

DIONYZA Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do't:
        'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.
        Thou canst not do a thing in the world so soon,
        To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience,
        Which is but cold, inflaming love i' thy bosom,
        Inflame too nicely; nor let pity, which
        Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be
        A soldier to thy purpose.

LEONINE I will do't; but yet she is a goodly creature.

DIONYZA The fitter, then, the gods should have her. Here
        she comes weeping for her only mistress' death.
        Thou art resolved?

LEONINE I am resolved.

        [Enter MARINA, with a basket of flowers]

MARINA  No, I will rob Tellus of her weed,
        To strew thy green with flowers: the yellows, blues,
        The purple violets, and marigolds,
        Shall as a carpet hang upon thy grave,
        While summer-days do last. Ay me! poor maid,
        Born in a tempest, when my mother died,
        This world to me is like a lasting storm,
        Whirring me from my friends.

DIONYZA How now, Marina! why do you keep alone?
        How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not
        Consume your blood with sorrowing: you have
        A nurse of me. Lord, how your favour's changed
        With this unprofitable woe!
        Come, give me your flowers, ere the sea mar it.
        Walk with Leonine; the air is quick there,
        And it pierces and sharpens the stomach. Come,
        Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her.

MARINA  No, I pray you;
        I'll not bereave you of your servant.

DIONYZA Come, come;
        I love the king your father, and yourself,
        With more than foreign heart. We every day
        Expect him here: when he shall come and find
        Our paragon to all reports thus blasted,
        He will repent the breadth of his great voyage;
        Blame both my lord and me, that we have taken
        No care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,
        Walk, and be cheerful once again; reserve
        That excellent complexion, which did steal
        The eyes of young and old. Care not for me
        I can go home alone.

MARINA  Well, I will go;
        But yet I have no desire to it.

DIONYZA Come, come, I know 'tis good for you.
        Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least:
        Remember what I have said.

LEONINE I warrant you, madam.

DIONYZA I'll leave you, my sweet lady, for a while:
        Pray, walk softly, do not heat your blood:
        What! I must have a care of you.

MARINA  My thanks, sweet madam.

        [Exit DIONYZA]

        Is this wind westerly that blows?

LEONINE South-west.

MARINA  When I was born, the wind was north.

LEONINE Was't so?

MARINA  My father, as nurse said, did never fear,
        But cried 'Good seaman!' to the sailors, galling
        His kingly hands, haling ropes;
        And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea
        That almost burst the deck.

LEONINE When was this?

MARINA  When I was born:
        Never was waves nor wind more violent;
        And from the ladder-tackle washes off
        A canvas-climber. 'Ha!' says one, 'wilt out?'
        And with a dropping industry they skip
        From stem to stern: the boatswain whistles, and
        The master calls, and trebles their confusion.

LEONINE Come, say your prayers.

MARINA  What mean you?

LEONINE If you require a little space for prayer,
        I grant it: pray; but be not tedious,
        For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn
        To do my work with haste.

MARINA  Why will you kill me?

LEONINE To satisfy my lady.

MARINA  Why would she have me kill'd?
        Now, as I can remember, by my troth,
        I never did her hurt in all my life:
        I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn
        To any living creature: believe me, la,
        I never kill'd a mouse, nor hurt a fly:
        I trod upon a worm against my will,
        But I wept for it. How have I offended,
        Wherein my death might yield her any profit,
        Or my life imply her any danger?

LEONINE My commission
        Is not to reason of the deed, but do it.

MARINA  You will not do't for all the world, I hope.
        You are well favour'd, and your looks foreshow
        You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately,
        When you caught hurt in parting two that fought:
        Good sooth, it show'd well in you: do so now:
        Your lady seeks my life; come you between,
        And save poor me, the weaker.

LEONINE I am sworn,
        And will dispatch.

        [He seizes her]

        [Enter Pirates]

First Pirate    Hold, villain!

        [LEONINE runs away]

Second Pirate   A prize! a prize!

Third Pirate    Half-part, mates, half-part.
        Come, let's have her aboard suddenly.

        [Exeunt Pirates with MARINA]

        [Re-enter LEONINE]

LEONINE These roguing thieves serve the great pirate Valdes;
        And they have seized Marina. Let her go:
        There's no hope she will return. I'll swear
        she's dead,
        And thrown into the sea. But I'll see further:
        Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her,
        Not carry her aboard. If she remain,
        Whom they have ravish'd must by me be slain.

        [Exit]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT IV



SCENE II        Mytilene. A room in a brothel.


        [Enter Pandar, Bawd, and BOULT]

Pandar  Boult!

BOULT   Sir?

Pandar  Search the market narrowly; Mytilene is full of
        gallants. We lost too much money this mart by being
        too wenchless.

Bawd    We were never so much out of creatures. We have but
        poor three, and they can do no more than they can
        do; and they with continual action are even as good as rotten.

Pandar  Therefore let's have fresh ones, whate'er we pay for
        them. If there be not a conscience to be used in
        every trade, we shall never prosper.

Bawd    Thou sayest true: 'tis not our bringing up of poor
        bastards,--as, I think, I have brought up some eleven--

BOULT   Ay, to eleven; and brought them down again. But
        shall I search the market?

Bawd    What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong wind
        will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully sodden.

Pandar  Thou sayest true; they're too unwholesome, o'
        conscience. The poor Transylvanian is dead, that
        lay with the little baggage.

BOULT   Ay, she quickly pooped him; she made him roast-meat
        for worms. But I'll go search the market.

        [Exit]

Pandar  Three or four thousand chequins were as pretty a
        proportion to live quietly, and so give over.

Bawd    Why to give over, I pray you? is it a shame to get
        when we are old?

Pandar  O, our credit comes not in like the commodity, nor
        the commodity wages not with the danger: therefore,
        if in our youths we could pick up some pretty
        estate, 'twere not amiss to keep our door hatched.
        Besides, the sore terms we stand upon with the gods
        will be strong with us for giving over.

Bawd    Come, other sorts offend as well as we.

Pandar  As well as we! ay, and better too; we offend worse.
        Neither is our profession any trade; it's no
        calling. But here comes Boult.

        [Re-enter BOULT, with the Pirates and MARINA]

BOULT   [To MARINA]  Come your ways. My masters, you say
        she's a virgin?

First Pirate    O, sir, we doubt it not.

BOULT   Master, I have gone through for this piece, you see:
        if you like her, so; if not, I have lost my earnest.

Bawd    Boult, has she any qualities?

BOULT   She has a good face, speaks well, and has excellent
        good clothes: there's no further necessity of
        qualities can make her be refused.

Bawd    What's her price, Boult?

BOULT   I cannot be bated one doit of a thousand pieces.

Pandar  Well, follow me, my masters, you shall have your
        money presently. Wife, take her in; instruct her
        what she has to do, that she may not be raw in her
        entertainment.

        [Exeunt Pandar and Pirates]

Bawd    Boult, take you the marks of her, the colour of her
        hair, complexion, height, age, with warrant of her
        virginity; and cry 'He that will give most shall
        have her first.' Such a maidenhead were no cheap
        thing, if men were as they have been. Get this done
        as I command you.

BOULT   Performance shall follow.

        [Exit]

MARINA  Alack that Leonine was so slack, so slow!
        He should have struck, not spoke; or that these pirates,
        Not enough barbarous, had not o'erboard thrown me
        For to seek my mother!

Bawd    Why lament you, pretty one?

MARINA  That I am pretty.

Bawd    Come, the gods have done their part in you.

MARINA  I accuse them not.

Bawd    You are light into my hands, where you are like to live.

MARINA  The more my fault
        To scape his hands where I was like to die.

Bawd    Ay, and you shall live in pleasure.

MARINA  No.

Bawd    Yes, indeed shall you, and taste gentlemen of all
        fashions: you shall fare well; you shall have the
        difference of all complexions. What! do you stop your ears?

MARINA  Are you a woman?

Bawd    What would you have me be, an I be not a woman?

MARINA  An honest woman, or not a woman.

Bawd    Marry, whip thee, gosling: I think I shall have
        something to do with you. Come, you're a young
        foolish sapling, and must be bowed as I would have
        you.

MARINA  The gods defend me!

Bawd    If it please the gods to defend you by men, then men
        must comfort you, men must feed you, men must stir
        you up. Boult's returned.

        [Re-enter BOULT]

        Now, sir, hast thou cried her through the market?

BOULT   I have cried her almost to the number of her hairs;
        I have drawn her picture with my voice.

Bawd    And I prithee tell me, how dost thou find the
        inclination of the people, especially of the younger sort?

BOULT   'Faith, they listened to me as they would have
        hearkened to their father's testament. There was a
        Spaniard's mouth so watered, that he went to bed to
        her very description.

Bawd    We shall have him here to-morrow with his best ruff on.

BOULT   To-night, to-night. But, mistress, do you know the
        French knight that cowers i' the hams?

Bawd    Who, Monsieur Veroles?

BOULT   Ay, he: he offered to cut a caper at the
        proclamation; but he made a groan at it, and swore
        he would see her to-morrow.

Bawd    Well, well; as for him, he brought his disease
        hither: here he does but repair it. I know he will
        come in our shadow, to scatter his crowns in the
        sun.

BOULT   Well, if we had of every nation a traveller, we
        should lodge them with this sign.

Bawd    [To MARINA]  Pray you, come hither awhile. You
        have fortunes coming upon you. Mark me: you must
        seem to do that fearfully which you commit
        willingly, despise profit where you have most gain.
        To weep that you live as ye do makes pity in your
        lovers: seldom but that pity begets you a good
        opinion, and that opinion a mere profit.

MARINA  I understand you not.

BOULT   O, take her home, mistress, take her home: these
        blushes of hers must be quenched with some present practise.

Bawd    Thou sayest true, i' faith, so they must; for your
        bride goes to that with shame which is her way to go
        with warrant.

BOULT   'Faith, some do, and some do not. But, mistress, if
        I have bargained for the joint,--

Bawd    Thou mayst cut a morsel off the spit.

BOULT   I may so.

Bawd    Who should deny it? Come, young one, I like the
        manner of your garments well.

BOULT   Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet.

Bawd    Boult, spend thou that in the town: report what a
        sojourner we have; you'll lose nothing by custom.
        When nature flamed this piece, she meant thee a good
        turn; therefore say what a paragon she is, and thou
        hast the harvest out of thine own report.

BOULT   I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake
        the beds of eels as my giving out her beauty stir up
        the lewdly-inclined. I'll bring home some to-night.

Bawd    Come your ways; follow me.

MARINA  If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep,
        Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.
        Diana, aid my purpose!

Bawd    What have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with us?

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT IV



SCENE III       Tarsus. A room in CLEON's house.


        [Enter CLEON and DIONYZA]

DIONYZA Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone?

CLEON   O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter
        The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon!

DIONYZA I think
        You'll turn a child again.

CLEON   Were I chief lord of all this spacious world,
        I'ld give it to undo the deed. O lady,
        Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess
        To equal any single crown o' the earth
        I' the justice of compare! O villain Leonine!
        Whom thou hast poison'd too:
        If thou hadst drunk to him, 't had been a kindness
        Becoming well thy fact: what canst thou say
        When noble Pericles shall demand his child?

DIONYZA That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,
        To foster it, nor ever to preserve.
        She died at night; I'll say so. Who can cross it?
        Unless you play the pious innocent,
        And for an honest attribute cry out
        'She died by foul play.'

CLEON   O, go to. Well, well,
        Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods
        Do like this worst.

DIONYZA Be one of those that think
        The petty wrens of Tarsus will fly hence,
        And open this to Pericles. I do shame
        To think of what a noble strain you are,
        And of how coward a spirit.

CLEON   To such proceeding
        Who ever but his approbation added,
        Though not his prime consent, he did not flow
        From honourable sources.

DIONYZA Be it so, then:
        Yet none does know, but you, how she came dead,
        Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.
        She did disdain my child, and stood between
        Her and her fortunes: none would look on her,
        But cast their gazes on Marina's face;
        Whilst ours was blurted at and held a malkin
        Not worth the time of day. It pierced me through;
        And though you call my course unnatural,
        You not your child well loving, yet I find
        It greets me as an enterprise of kindness
        Perform'd to your sole daughter.

CLEON   Heavens forgive it!

DIONYZA And as for Pericles,
        What should he say? We wept after her hearse,
        And yet we mourn: her monument
        Is almost finish'd, and her epitaphs
        In glittering golden characters express
        A general praise to her, and care in us
        At whose expense 'tis done.

CLEON   Thou art like the harpy,
        Which, to betray, dost, with thine angel's face,
        Seize with thine eagle's talons.

DIONYZA You are like one that superstitiously
        Doth swear to the gods that winter kills the flies:
        But yet I know you'll do as I advise.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT IV



SCENE IV:


        [Enter GOWER, before the monument of MARINA at Tarsus]

GOWER   Thus time we waste, and longest leagues make short;
        Sail seas in cockles, have an wish but for't;
        Making, to take your imagination,
        From bourn to bourn, region to region.
        By you being pardon'd, we commit no crime
        To use one language in each several clime
        Where our scenes seem to live. I do beseech you
        To learn of me, who stand i' the gaps to teach you,
        The stages of our story. Pericles
        Is now again thwarting the wayward seas,
        Attended on by many a lord and knight.
        To see his daughter, all his life's delight.
        Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late
        Advanced in time to great and high estate,
        Is left to govern. Bear you it in mind,
        Old Helicanus goes along behind.
        Well-sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought
        This king to Tarsus,--think his pilot thought;
        So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on,--
        To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.
        Like motes and shadows see them move awhile;
        Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.

        DUMB SHOW.

        [Enter PERICLES, at one door, with all his train;
        CLEON and DIONYZA, at the other. CLEON shows
        PERICLES the tomb; whereat PERICLES makes
        lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a mighty
        passion departs. Then exeunt CLEON and DIONYZA]

        See how belief may suffer by foul show!
        This borrow'd passion stands for true old woe;
        And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,
        With sighs shot through, and biggest tears
        o'ershower'd,
        Leaves Tarsus and again embarks. He swears
        Never to wash his face, nor cut his hairs:
        He puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears
        A tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,
        And yet he rides it out. Now please you wit.
        The epitaph is for Marina writ
        By wicked Dionyza.

        [Reads the inscription on MARINA's monument]

        'The fairest, sweet'st, and best lies here,
        Who wither'd in her spring of year.
        She was of Tyrus the king's daughter,
        On whom foul death hath made this slaughter;
        Marina was she call'd; and at her birth,
        Thetis, being proud, swallow'd some part o' the earth:
        Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,
        Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd:
        Wherefore she does, and swears she'll never stint,
        Make raging battery upon shores of flint.'

        No visor does become black villany
        So well as soft and tender flattery.
        Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,
        And bear his courses to be ordered
        By Lady Fortune; while our scene must play
        His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day
        In her unholy service. Patience, then,
        And think you now are all in Mytilene.

        [Exit]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT IV



SCENE V Mytilene. A street before the brothel.


        [Enter, from the brothel, two Gentlemen]

First Gentleman Did you ever hear the like?

Second Gentleman        No, nor never shall do in such a place as this, she
        being once gone.

First Gentleman But to have divinity preached there! did you ever
        dream of such a thing?

Second Gentleman        No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdy-houses:
        shall's go hear the vestals sing?

First Gentleman I'll do any thing now that is virtuous; but I
        am out of the road of rutting for ever.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT IV



SCENE VI        The same. A room in the brothel.


        [Enter Pandar, Bawd, and BOULT]

Pandar  Well, I had rather than twice the worth of her she
        had ne'er come here.

Bawd    Fie, fie upon her! she's able to freeze the god
        Priapus, and undo a whole generation. We must
        either get her ravished, or be rid of her. When she
        should do for clients her fitment, and do me the
        kindness of our profession, she has me her quirks,
        her reasons, her master reasons, her prayers, her
        knees; that she would make a puritan of the devil,
        if he should cheapen a kiss of her.

BOULT   'Faith, I must ravish her, or she'll disfurnish us
        of all our cavaliers, and make our swearers priests.

Pandar  Now, the pox upon her green-sickness for me!

Bawd    'Faith, there's no way to be rid on't but by the
        way to the pox. Here comes the Lord Lysimachus disguised.

BOULT   We should have both lord and lown, if the peevish
        baggage would but give way to customers.

        [Enter LYSIMACHUS]

LYSIMACHUS      How now! How a dozen of virginities?

Bawd    Now, the gods to-bless your honour!

BOULT   I am glad to see your honour in good health.

LYSIMACHUS      You may so; 'tis the better for you that your
        resorters stand upon sound legs. How now!
        wholesome iniquity have you that a man may deal
        withal, and defy the surgeon?

Bawd    We have here one, sir, if she would--but there never
        came her like in Mytilene.

LYSIMACHUS      If she'ld do the deed of darkness, thou wouldst say.

Bawd    Your honour knows what 'tis to say well enough.

LYSIMACHUS      Well, call forth, call forth.

BOULT   For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you shall
        see a rose; and she were a rose indeed, if she had but--

LYSIMACHUS      What, prithee?

BOULT   O, sir, I can be modest.

LYSIMACHUS      That dignifies the renown of a bawd, no less than it
        gives a good report to a number to be chaste.

        [Exit BOULT]

Bawd    Here comes that which grows to the stalk; never
        plucked yet, I can assure you.

        [Re-enter BOULT with MARINA]

        Is she not a fair creature?

LYSIMACHUS      'Faith, she would serve after a long voyage at sea.
        Well, there's for you: leave us.

Bawd    I beseech your honour, give me leave: a word, and
        I'll have done presently.

LYSIMACHUS      I beseech you, do.

Bawd    [To MARINA]  First, I would have you note, this is
        an honourable man.

MARINA  I desire to find him so, that I may worthily note him.

Bawd    Next, he's the governor of this country, and a man
        whom I am bound to.

MARINA  If he govern the country, you are bound to him
        indeed; but how honourable he is in that, I know not.

Bawd    Pray you, without any more virginal fencing, will
        you use him kindly? He will line your apron with gold.

MARINA  What he will do graciously, I will thankfully receive.

LYSIMACHUS      Ha' you done?

Bawd    My lord, she's not paced yet: you must take some
        pains to work her to your manage. Come, we will
        leave his honour and her together. Go thy ways.

        [Exeunt Bawd, Pandar, and BOULT]

LYSIMACHUS      Now, pretty one, how long have you been at this trade?

MARINA  What trade, sir?

LYSIMACHUS      Why, I cannot name't but I shall offend.

MARINA  I cannot be offended with my trade. Please you to name it.

LYSIMACHUS      How long have you been of this profession?

MARINA  E'er since I can remember.

LYSIMACHUS      Did you go to 't so young? Were you a gamester at
        five or at seven?

MARINA  Earlier too, sir, if now I be one.

LYSIMACHUS      Why, the house you dwell in proclaims you to be a
        creature of sale.

MARINA  Do you know this house to be a place of such resort,
        and will come into 't? I hear say you are of
        honourable parts, and are the governor of this place.

LYSIMACHUS      Why, hath your principal made known unto you who I am?

MARINA  Who is my principal?

LYSIMACHUS      Why, your herb-woman; she that sets seeds and roots
        of shame and iniquity. O, you have heard something
        of my power, and so stand aloof for more serious
        wooing. But I protest to thee, pretty one, my
        authority shall not see thee, or else look friendly
        upon thee. Come, bring me to some private place:
        come, come.

MARINA  If you were born to honour, show it now;
        If put upon you, make the judgment good
        That thought you worthy of it.

LYSIMACHUS      How's this? how's this? Some more; be sage.

MARINA  For me,
        That am a maid, though most ungentle fortune
        Have placed me in this sty, where, since I came,
        Diseases have been sold dearer than physic,
        O, that the gods
        Would set me free from this unhallow'd place,
        Though they did change me to the meanest bird
        That flies i' the purer air!

LYSIMACHUS      I did not think
        Thou couldst have spoke so well; ne'er dream'd thou couldst.
        Had I brought hither a corrupted mind,
        Thy speech had alter'd it. Hold, here's gold for thee:
        Persever in that clear way thou goest,
        And the gods strengthen thee!

MARINA  The good gods preserve you!

LYSIMACHUS      For me, be you thoughten
        That I came with no ill intent; for to me
        The very doors and windows savour vilely.
        Fare thee well. Thou art a piece of virtue, and
        I doubt not but thy training hath been noble.
        Hold, here's more gold for thee.
        A curse upon him, die he like a thief,
        That robs thee of thy goodness! If thou dost
        Hear from me, it shall be for thy good.

        [Re-enter BOULT]

BOULT   I beseech your honour, one piece for me.

LYSIMACHUS      Avaunt, thou damned door-keeper!
        Your house, but for this virgin that doth prop it,
        Would sink and overwhelm you. Away!

        [Exit]

BOULT   How's this? We must take another course with you.
        If your peevish chastity, which is not worth a
        breakfast in the cheapest country under the cope,
        shall undo a whole household, let me be gelded like
        a spaniel. Come your ways.

MARINA   Whither would you have me?

BOULT   I must have your maidenhead taken off, or the common
        hangman shall execute it. Come your ways. We'll
        have no more gentlemen driven away. Come your ways, I say.

        [Re-enter Bawd]

Bawd    How now! what's the matter?

BOULT   Worse and worse, mistress; she has here spoken holy
        words to the Lord Lysimachus.

Bawd    O abominable!

BOULT   She makes our profession as it were to stink afore
        the face of the gods.

Bawd    Marry, hang her up for ever!

BOULT   The nobleman would have dealt with her like a
        nobleman, and she sent him away as cold as a
        snowball; saying his prayers too.

Bawd    Boult, take her away; use her at thy pleasure:
        crack the glass of her virginity, and make the rest malleable.

BOULT   An if she were a thornier piece of ground than she
        is, she shall be ploughed.

MARINA  Hark, hark, you gods!

Bawd    She conjures: away with her! Would she had never
        come within my doors! Marry, hang you! She's born
        to undo us. Will you not go the way of women-kind?
        Marry, come up, my dish of chastity with rosemary and bays!

        [Exit]

BOULT   Come, mistress; come your ways with me.

MARINA  Whither wilt thou have me?

BOULT   To take from you the jewel you hold so dear.

MARINA  Prithee, tell me one thing first.

BOULT   Come now, your one thing.

MARINA  What canst thou wish thine enemy to be?

BOULT   Why, I could wish him to be my master, or rather, my mistress.

MARINA  Neither of these are so bad as thou art,
        Since they do better thee in their command.
        Thou hold'st a place, for which the pained'st fiend
        Of hell would not in reputation change:
        Thou art the damned doorkeeper to every
        Coistrel that comes inquiring for his Tib;
        To the choleric fisting of every rogue
        Thy ear is liable; thy food is such
        As hath been belch'd on by infected lungs.

BOULT   What would you have me do? go to the wars, would
        you? where a man may serve seven years for the loss
        of a leg, and have not money enough in the end to
        buy him a wooden one?

MARINA  Do any thing but this thou doest. Empty
        OLD receptacles, or common shores, of filth;
        Serve by indenture to the common hangman:
        Any of these ways are yet better than this;
        For what thou professest, a baboon, could he speak,
        Would own a name too dear. O, that the gods
        Would safely deliver me from this place!
        Here, here's gold for thee.
        If that thy master would gain by thee,
        Proclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance,
        With other virtues, which I'll keep from boast:
        And I will undertake all these to teach.
        I doubt not but this populous city will
        Yield many scholars.

BOULT   But can you teach all this you speak of?

MARINA  Prove that I cannot, take me home again,
        And prostitute me to the basest groom
        That doth frequent your house.

BOULT   Well, I will see what I can do for thee: if I can
        place thee, I will.

MARINA  But amongst honest women.

BOULT   'Faith, my acquaintance lies little amongst them.
        But since my master and mistress have bought you,
        there's no going but by their consent: therefore I
        will make them acquainted with your purpose, and I
        doubt not but I shall find them tractable enough.
        Come, I'll do for thee what I can; come your ways.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT V


        [Enter GOWER]

GOWER   Marina thus the brothel 'scapes, and chances
        Into an honest house, our story says.
        She sings like one immortal, and she dances
        As goddess-like to her admired lays;
        Deep clerks she dumbs; and with her needle composes
        Nature's own shape, of bud, bird, branch, or berry,
        That even her art sisters the natural roses;
        Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied cherry:
        That pupils lacks she none of noble race,
        Who pour their bounty on her; and her gain
        She gives the cursed bawd. Here we her place;
        And to her father turn our thoughts again,
        Where we left him, on the sea. We there him lost;
        Whence, driven before the winds, he is arrived
        Here where his daughter dwells; and on this coast
        Suppose him now at anchor. The city strived
        God Neptune's annual feast to keep: from whence
        Lysimachus our Tyrian ship espies,
        His banners sable, trimm'd with rich expense;
        And to him in his barge with fervor hies.
        In your supposing once more put your sight
        Of heavy Pericles; think this his bark:
        Where what is done in action, more, if might,
        Shall be discover'd; please you, sit and hark.

        [Exit]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT V



SCENE I On board PERICLES' ship, off Mytilene. A close
        pavilion on deck, with a curtain before it; PERICLES
        within it, reclined on a couch. A barge lying
        beside the Tyrian vessel.


        [Enter two Sailors, one belonging to the Tyrian
        vessel, the other to the barge; to them HELICANUS]

Tyrian Sailor   [To the Sailor of Mytilene]  Where is lord Helicanus?
        he can resolve you.
        O, here he is.
        Sir, there's a barge put off from Mytilene,
        And in it is Lysimachus the governor,
        Who craves to come aboard. What is your will?

HELICANUS       That he have his. Call up some gentlemen.

Tyrian Sailor   Ho, gentlemen! my lord calls.

        [Enter two or three Gentlemen]

First Gentleman Doth your lordship call?

HELICANUS       Gentlemen, there's some of worth would come aboard;
        I pray ye, greet them fairly.

        [The Gentlemen and the two Sailors descend, and go
        on board the barge]

        [Enter, from thence, LYSIMACHUS and Lords; with the
        Gentlemen and the two Sailors]

Tyrian Sailor   Sir,
        This is the man that can, in aught you would,
        Resolve you.

LYSIMACHUS      Hail, reverend sir! the gods preserve you!

HELICANUS       And you, sir, to outlive the age I am,
        And die as I would do.

LYSIMACHUS      You wish me well.
        Being on shore, honouring of Neptune's triumphs,
        Seeing this goodly vessel ride before us,
        I made to it, to know of whence you are.

HELICANUS       First, what is your place?

LYSIMACHUS      I am the governor of this place you lie before.

HELICANUS       Sir,
        Our vessel is of Tyre, in it the king;
        A man who for this three months hath not spoken
        To any one, nor taken sustenance
        But to prorogue his grief.

LYSIMACHUS      Upon what ground is his distemperature?

HELICANUS       'Twould be too tedious to repeat;
        But the main grief springs from the loss
        Of a beloved daughter and a wife.

LYSIMACHUS      May we not see him?

HELICANUS       You may;
        But bootless is your sight: he will not speak To any.

LYSIMACHUS      Yet let me obtain my wish.

HELICANUS       Behold him.

        [PERICLES discovered]

        This was a goodly person,
        Till the disaster that, one mortal night,
        Drove him to this.

LYSIMACHUS      Sir king, all hail! the gods preserve you!
        Hail, royal sir!

HELICANUS       It is in vain; he will not speak to you.

First Lord      Sir,
        We have a maid in Mytilene, I durst wager,
        Would win some words of him.

LYSIMACHUS      'Tis well bethought.
        She questionless with her sweet harmony
        And other chosen attractions, would allure,
        And make a battery through his deafen'd parts,
        Which now are midway stopp'd:
        She is all happy as the fairest of all,
        And, with her fellow maids is now upon
        The leafy shelter that abuts against
        The island's side.

        [Whispers a Lord, who goes off in the barge of
        LYSIMACHUS]

HELICANUS       Sure, all's effectless; yet nothing we'll omit
        That bears recovery's name. But, since your kindness
        We have stretch'd thus far, let us beseech you
        That for our gold we may provision have,
        Wherein we are not destitute for want,
        But weary for the staleness.

LYSIMACHUS      O, sir, a courtesy
        Which if we should deny, the most just gods
        For every graff would send a caterpillar,
        And so afflict our province. Yet once more
        Let me entreat to know at large the cause
        Of your king's sorrow.

HELICANUS       Sit, sir, I will recount it to you:
        But, see, I am prevented.

        [Re-enter, from the barge, Lord, with MARINA, and a
        young Lady]

LYSIMACHUS      O, here is
        The lady that I sent for. Welcome, fair one!
        Is't not a goodly presence?

HELICANUS       She's a gallant lady.

LYSIMACHUS      She's such a one, that, were I well assured
        Came of a gentle kind and noble stock,
        I'ld wish no better choice, and think me rarely wed.
        Fair one, all goodness that consists in bounty
        Expect even here, where is a kingly patient:
        If that thy prosperous and artificial feat
        Can draw him but to answer thee in aught,
        Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay
        As thy desires can wish.

MARINA  Sir, I will use
        My utmost skill in his recovery, Provided
        That none but I and my companion maid
        Be suffer'd to come near him.

LYSIMACHUS      Come, let us leave her;
        And the gods make her prosperous!

        [MARINA sings]

LYSIMACHUS      Mark'd he your music?

MARINA  No, nor look'd on us.

LYSIMACHUS      See, she will speak to him.

MARINA  Hail, sir! my lord, lend ear.

PERICLES        Hum, ha!

MARINA  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.

        [Aside]

                 I will desist;
        But there is something glows upon my cheek,
        And whispers in mine ear, 'Go not till he speak.'

PERICLES        My fortunes--parentage--good parentage--
        To equal mine!--was it not thus? what say you?

MARINA  I said, my lord, if you did know my parentage,
        You would not do me violence.

PERICLES        I do think so. Pray you, turn your eyes upon me.
        You are like something that--What country-woman?
        Here of these shores?

MARINA  No, nor of any shores:
        Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am
        No other than I appear.

PERICLES        I am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping.
        My dearest wife was like this maid, and such a one
        My daughter might have been: my queen's square brows;
        Her stature to an inch; as wand-like straight;
        As silver-voiced; her eyes as jewel-like
        And cased as richly; in pace another Juno;
        Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry,
        The more she gives them speech. Where do you live?

MARINA  Where I am but a stranger: from the deck
        You may discern the place.

PERICLES        Where were you bred?
        And how achieved you these endowments, which
        You make more rich to owe?

MARINA  If I should tell my history, it would seem
        Like lies disdain'd in the reporting.

PERICLES        Prithee, speak:
        Falseness cannot come from thee; for thou look'st
        Modest as Justice, and thou seem'st a palace
        For the crown'd Truth to dwell in: I will
        believe thee,
        And make my senses credit thy relation
        To points that seem impossible; for thou look'st
        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?

MARINA  So indeed I did.

PERICLES        Report thy parentage. I think thou said'st
        Thou hadst been toss'd from wrong to injury,
        And that thou thought'st thy griefs might equal mine,
        If both were open'd.

MARINA  Some such thing
        I said, and said no more but what my thoughts
        Did warrant me was likely.

PERICLES        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 kings' 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.

MARINA  My name is Marina.

PERICLES                          O, I am mock'd,
        And thou by some incensed god sent hither
        To make the world to laugh at me.

MARINA  Patience, good sir,
        Or here I'll cease.

PERICLES        Nay, I'll be patient.
        Thou little know'st how thou dost startle me,
        To call thyself Marina.

MARINA  The name
        Was given me by one that had some power,
        My father, and a king.

PERICLES        How! a king's daughter?
        And call'd Marina?

MARINA                    You said you would believe me;
        But, not to be a troubler of your peace,
        I will end here.

PERICLES                          But are you flesh and blood?
        Have you a working pulse? and are no fairy?
        Motion! Well; speak on. Where were you born?
        And wherefore call'd Marina?

MARINA  Call'd Marina
        For I was born at sea.

PERICLES        At sea! what mother?

MARINA  My mother was the daughter of a king;
        Who died the minute I was born,
        As my good nurse Lychorida hath oft
        Deliver'd weeping.

PERICLES                          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.

MARINA  You scorn: believe me, 'twere best I did give o'er.

PERICLES        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?

MARINA  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, 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.

PERICLES        Ho, Helicanus!

HELICANUS       Calls my lord?

PERICLES        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?

HELICANUS       I know not; but
        Here is the regent, sir, of Mytilene
        Speaks nobly of her.

LYSIMACHUS      She would never tell
        Her parentage; being demanded that,
        She would sit still and weep.

PERICLES        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.

MARINA  First, sir, I pray,
        What is your title?

PERICLES        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.

MARINA  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.

PERICLES        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?

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

PERICLES        I embrace you.
        Give me my robes. I am wild in my beholding.
        O heavens bless my girl! But, hark, what music?
        Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him
        O'er, point by point, for yet he seems to doubt,
        How sure you are my daughter. But, what music?

HELICANUS       My lord, I hear none.

PERICLES        None!
        The music of the spheres! List, my Marina.

LYSIMACHUS      It is not good to cross him; give him way.

PERICLES        Rarest sounds! Do ye not hear?

LYSIMACHUS      My lord, I hear.

        [Music]

PERICLES        Most heavenly music!
        It nips me unto listening, and thick slumber
        Hangs upon mine eyes: let me rest.

        [Sleeps]

LYSIMACHUS      A pillow for his head:
        So, leave him all. Well, my companion friends,
        If this but answer to my just belief,
        I'll well remember you.

        [Exeunt all but PERICLES]

        [DIANA appears to PERICLES as in a vision]

DIANA   My temple stands in Ephesus: hie thee thither,
        And do upon mine altar sacrifice.
        There, when my maiden priests are met together,
        Before the people all,
        Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife:
        To mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter's, call
        And give them repetition to the life.
        Or perform my bidding, or thou livest in woe;
        Do it, and happy; by my silver bow!
        Awake, and tell thy dream.

        [Disappears]

PERICLES        Celestial Dian, goddess argentine,
        I will obey thee. Helicanus!

        [Re-enter HELICANUS, LYSIMACHUS, and MARINA]

HELICANUS       Sir?

PERICLES        My purpose was for Tarsus, there to strike
        The inhospitable Cleon; but I am
        For other service first: toward Ephesus
        Turn our blown sails; eftsoons I'll tell thee why.

        [To LYSIMACHUS]

        Shall we refresh us, sir, upon your shore,
        And give you gold for such provision
        As our intents will need?

LYSIMACHUS      Sir,
        With all my heart; and, when you come ashore,
        I have another suit.

PERICLES        You shall prevail,
        Were it to woo my daughter; for it seems
        You have been noble towards her.

LYSIMACHUS      Sir, lend me your arm.

PERICLES        Come, my Marina.

        [Exeunt]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT V



SCENE II:


        [Enter GOWER, before the temple of DIANA at Ephesus]

GOWER   Now our sands are almost run;
        More a little, and then dumb.
        This, my last boon, give me,
        For such kindness must relieve me,
        That you aptly will suppose
        What pageantry, what feats, what shows,
        What minstrelsy, and pretty din,
        The regent made in Mytilene
        To greet the king. So he thrived,
        That he is promised to be wived
        To fair Marina; but in no wise
        Till he had done his sacrifice,
        As Dian bade: whereto being bound,
        The interim, pray you, all confound.
        In feather'd briefness sails are fill'd,
        And wishes fall out as they're will'd.
        At Ephesus, the temple see,
        Our king and all his company.
        That he can hither come so soon,
        Is by your fancy's thankful doom.

        [Exit]




        PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE


ACT V


SCENE III       The temple of Diana at Ephesus; THAISA standing
        near the altar, as high priestess; a number of
        Virgins on each side; CERIMON and other Inhabitants
        of Ephesus attending.


        [Enter PERICLES, with his train; LYSIMACHUS,
        HELICANUS, MARINA, and a Lady]

PERICLES        Hail, Dian! to perform thy just command,
        I here confess myself the king of Tyre;
        Who, frighted from my country, did wed
        At Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.
        At sea in childbed died she, but brought forth
        A maid-child call'd Marina; who, O goddess,
        Wears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus
        Was nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years
        He sought to murder: but her better stars
        Brought her to Mytilene; 'gainst whose shore
        Riding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,
        Where, by her own most clear remembrance, she
        Made known herself my daughter.

THAISA  Voice and favour!
        You are, you are--O royal Pericles!

        [Faints]

PERICLES        What means the nun? she dies! help, gentlemen!

CERIMON Noble sir,
        If you have told Diana's altar true,
        This is your wife.

PERICLES                          Reverend appearer, no;
        I threw her overboard with these very arms.

CERIMON Upon this coast, I warrant you.

PERICLES        'Tis most certain.

CERIMON Look to the lady; O, she's but o'erjoy'd.
        Early in blustering morn this lady was
        Thrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,
        Found there rich jewels; recover'd her, and placed her
        Here in Diana's temple.

PERICLES        May we see them?

CERIMON Great sir, they shall be brought you to my house,
        Whither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is recovered.

THAISA  O, let me look!
        If he be none of mine, my sanctity
        Will to my sense bend no licentious ear,
        But curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,
        Are you not Pericles? Like him you spake,
        Like him you are: did you not name a tempest,
        A birth, and death?

PERICLES        The voice of dead Thaisa!

THAISA  That Thaisa am I, supposed dead
        And drown'd.

PERICLES        Immortal Dian!

THAISA                    Now I know you better.
        When we with tears parted Pentapolis,
        The king my father gave you such a ring.

        [Shows a ring]

PERICLES        This, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness
        Makes my past miseries sports: 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 heart
        Leaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.

        [Kneels to THAISA]

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

THAISA  Blest, and mine own!

HELICANUS       Hail, madam, and my queen!

THAISA  I know you not.

PERICLES        You have heard me say, when I did fly from Tyre,
        I left behind an ancient substitute:
        Can you remember what I call'd the man?
        I have named him oft.

THAISA  'Twas Helicanus then.

PERICLES        Still confirmation:
        Embrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.
        Now do I long to hear how you were found;
        How possibly preserved; and who to thank,
        Besides the gods, for this great miracle.

THAISA  Lord Cerimon, my lord; this man,
        Through whom the gods have shown their power; that can
        From first to last resolve you.

PERICLES        Reverend sir,
        The gods can have no mortal officer
        More like a god than you. Will you deliver
        How this dead queen re-lives?

CERIMON I will, my lord.
        Beseech you, first go with me to my house,
        Where shall be shown you all was found with her;
        How she came placed here in the temple;
        No needful thing omitted.

PERICLES        Pure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! I
        Will offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa,
        This prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter,
        Shall marry her at Pentapolis. And now,
        This ornament
        Makes me look dismal will I clip to form;
        And what this fourteen years no razor touch'd,
        To grace thy marriage-day, I'll beautify.

THAISA  Lord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir,
        My father's dead.

PERICLES        Heavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen,
        We'll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves
        Will in that kingdom spend our following days:
        Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.
        Lord Cerimon, we do our longing stay
        To hear the rest untold: sir, lead's the way.

        [Exeunt]

        [Enter GOWER]

GOWER   In Antiochus and his daughter you have heard
        Of monstrous lust the due and just reward:
        In Pericles, his queen and daughter, seen,
        Although assail'd with fortune fierce and keen,
        Virtue preserved from fell destruction's blast,
        Led on by heaven, and crown'd with joy at last:
        In Helicanus may you well descry
        A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty:
        In reverend Cerimon there well appears
        The worth that learned charity aye wears:
        For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame
        Had spread their cursed deed, and honour'd name
        Of Pericles, to rage the city turn,
        That him and his they in his palace burn;
        The gods for murder seemed so content
        To punish them; although not done, but meant.
        So, on your patience evermore attending,
        New joy wait on you! Here our play has ending.

        [Exit]