DRAMATIS PERSONAE
GOWER, as Chorus
ANTIOCHUS, King of Antioch
PERICLES, Prince of Tyre
two lords of Tyre
HELICANUS
ESCANES
SIMONIDES, King of Pentapolis
CLEON, Governor of Tharsus
LYSIMACHUS, Governor of Mytilene
CERIMON, a lord of Ephesus
THALIARD, a lord of Antioch
PHILEMON, servant to Cerimon
LEONINE, servant to Dionyza
MARSHAL
A PANDER
BOULT, his servant
THE DAUGHTER of Antiochus
DIONYZA, wife to Cleon
THAISA, daughter to Simonides
MARINA, daughter to Pericles and Thaisa
LYCHORIDA, nurse to Marina
A BAWD
DIANA
Lords, Ladies, Knights, Gentlemen, Sailors, Pirates, Fishermen, and
Messengers
SCENE:
Dispersedly in various countries PERICLES, Prince of Tyre
ACT 1.
Antioch. Before the palace
Enter GOWER
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 those 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
SCENE 1.
Antioch. 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 Embold'ned 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; [Music] At whose conception, till Lucina reigned, Nature
this dowry gave to glad her presence: The senate-house of planets all did sit,
To knit in her their best perfections.
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 raz'd, and testy wrath Could never be her mild
companion. You gods that made me man, and sway in love, That have inflam'd
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 the
whole heap must die. Yon sometimes famous princes, like thyself, Drawn by
report, advent'rous 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 remembered 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; [To the PRINCESS] But my
unspotted fire of love to you. 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. [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.
[Aside] 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 lov'd
you, and could still, Were not this glorious casket stor'd 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 expir'd: 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
wand'ring wind, Blows dust in others' 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 tenour 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 a 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 life 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-experienc'd archer hits the mark his eye doth level at, so thou never
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 succour to my head. Exit SCENE 2.
Tyre. The palace
Enter PERICLES with his LORDS
PERICLES. Let none disturb us. Exeunt LORDS Why should this change of
thoughts, The sad companion, dull-ey'd melancholy, Be my so us'd 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 arm seems far too
short to hit me here. Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits, Nor yet the
other's distance comfort me. Then it is thus: the passions of the mind, That
have their first conception by misdread, Have after-nourishment and life by
care; And what was first but fear what might be done Grows elder now, and cares
it be not done. 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 th' 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 and all the 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 the which
is flattered 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.[Kneels]
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. I have ground the axe myself; Do but you strike the blow.
PERICLES. Rise, pr'ythee, rise. Sit down. Thou art no flatterer. I thank thee
for't; and heaven forbid That kings should let their cars hear their faults
chid! Fit counsellor and servant for a prince, Who by thy wisdom mak'st 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 ministers 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. Which 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 list'ning air
How many worthy princes' bloods were shed To keep his bed of blackness unlaid
ope, To lop that doubt, he'll fill this land with arms, And make 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 reprov'dst me for't-
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 Tharsus 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
SCENE 3.
Tyre. The palace
Enter THALIARD
THALIARD. So, this is Tyre, and this the court. Here must kill King Pericles;
and if I do it not, I am sure to be hang'd 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. Husht! here comes the lords of Tyre.
Enter HELICANUS, ESCANES, with other LORDS
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, Does
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 unlicens'd 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 judg'd so; And doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd, To
show his sorrow, he'd 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 scap'd the land to
perish at the seas. 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, Now
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
SCENE 4.
Tharsus. The Governor's house
Enter CLEON the Governor of Tharsus, with DIONYZA
his wife, 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 are 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 to sound deep Our
woes into the air; our eyes to 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 Tharsus, o'er which I have the government, A city on whom plenty
held full hand, For Riches strew'd herself even in her streets; Whose towers
bore heads so high they kiss'd the clouds, And strangers ne'er beheld but
wond'red at; Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn'd, Like one another's glass
to trim them by; Their tables were stor'd 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 defil'd for want of use,
They are now starv'd 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 nouzle up their babes Thought nought
too curious are ready now To eat those little darlings whom they lov'd. 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
Tharsus 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 the 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? Our ground's the lowest, and we are halfway 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 fir'd t'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 Troyan horse war stuff'd within With
bloody veins, expecting overthrow, Are stor'd with corn to make your needy
bread, And give them life whom hunger starv'd half dead. ALL. The gods of Greece
protect you! And we'll pray for you. [They kneel]
PERICLES. Arise, I pray you, rise. We do not look for reverence, but for
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 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 Tharsus, where each man Thinks all is writ
he spoken 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. PERICLES 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 Tharsus 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 Makes 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 toss'd. All perishen of man, of pelf, Ne aught escapen but himself;
Till fortune, tir'd 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 SCENE
1.
Pentapolis. An open place by the seaside
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 wat'ry 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, patchbreech, I say!
THIRD FISHERMAN. What say you, master?
FIRST FISHERMAN. Look how thou stirr'st 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 porpas how he
bounc'd and tumbled? They say they're half fish, half flesh. A plague on them!
They ne'er come but I look to be wash'd. 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 a' th' land, who never leave gaping till
they've swallow'd 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 wat'ry 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,
scratch't 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
hath made the ball For them to play upon entreats you pity him; He asks of you
that never us'd to beg.
FIRST FISHERMAN. No, friend, cannot you beg? Here's them in our country of
Greece gets more with begging than we can do with working.
SECOND FISHERMAN. Canst thou catch any fishes, then?
PERICLES. I never practis'd 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't! And 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 flapjacks; 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 whipp'd, then?
SECOND FISHERMAN. O, not all, my friend, not an! For if all your beggars were
whipp'd, 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 call'd Pentapolis, and our king
the good Simonides.
PERICLES. The good Simonides, do you call him?
FIRST FISHERMAN. Ay, sir; and he deserves so to be call'd 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 birthday, and there are princes and
knights come from all parts of the world to joust 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 turn'd to a rusty armour.
PERICLES. An armour, friends! I pray you let me see it. Thanks, Fortune, yet,
that after an 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 sav'd
me, keep it. In like necessity- The which the gods protect thee from!-may't
defend thee!' It kept where I kept, I so dearly lov'd it; Tiff 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 in, Since I have here my father's gift
in his 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 lov'd me dearly, And for his sake I
wish the having of it; And that you'd 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
them.
PERICLES. Believe't, I will. By your furtherance I am cloth'd in steel; And
spite of all the rupture 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
SCENE 2.
Pentapolis. A public way or platform leading to the lists. A pavilion by the
side of it for the reception of the 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
here, 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 entertain 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 by
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 by
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 by
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 by
THAISA. The fifth, an hand environed with clouds, Holding out gold that's by
the touchstone tried; The motto thus, 'Sic spectanda fides.'
PERICLES as SIXTH KNIGHT passes by
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 withered 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 practis'd 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!'] SCENE 3.
Pentapolis. A ball of state. A banquet prepared
Enter KING SIMONIDES, THAISA, LADIES, MARSHAL, LORDS,
KNIGHTS, from tilting, and attendants
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 my 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, aft hath thus decreed, To make some
good, but others to exceed; And you are her labour'd scholar. Come, queen o' th'
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 shall the low despise.
PERICLES. You are right courteous knights.
SIMONIDES. Sit, sir, sit. [Aside] By Jove, I wonder, that is king of
thoughts, These cates resist me, she but thought upon.
THAISA. [Aside] 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. [Aside] To me he seems like diamond to glass.
PERICLES. [Aside] 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 glowworm 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?
FIRST KNIGHT. Who can be other in this royal presence?
SIMONIDES. Here, with a cup that's stor'd 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't 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 wond'red at.
Therefore to make his entertain 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. [They 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!-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
SCENE 4.
Tyre. The Governor's house
Enter HELICANUS and ESCANES
HELICANUS. No, Escanes; know this of me- Antiochus from incest liv'd 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 ador'd
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 curs'd 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 resolv'd 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's indeed the strongest in our
censure; And knowing this kingdom, if 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. By 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 expir'd 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 it.
HELICANUS. Then you love us, we you, and we'll clasp
hands: When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands. Exeunt
SCENE 5.
Pentapolis. The palace
Enter SIMONIDES, reading of 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 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 hath so strictly tied her To her chamber
that it is 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'll 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 e'er 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 rul'd 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 further grief-God give you joy! What, are you both
pleas'd?
THAISA. Yes, if you love me, sir.
PERICLES. Even as my life my blood that fosters it.
SIMONIDES. What, are you both agreed?
BOTH. Yes, if't 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
ACT III.
Enter GOWER
GOWER. Now sleep yslaked 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 couches fore the mouse's hole; And crickets sing
at the oven's mouth, Aye 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 PERICLES. Then enter THAISA, With child, With LYCHORIDA, a nurse.
The king shows her the letter; she rejoices. She and PERICLES take 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 tenour 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 grizzled 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-toss'd Pericles
appears to speak. Exit SCENE 1.
Enter PERICLES, a-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 deaf'ning 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 blusterous 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 seafarer, 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 clear'd 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 'er; 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. Th'
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 aye-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, caulk'd and bitumed
ready.
PERICLES. I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?
SECOND SAILOR. We are near Tharsus.
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 Tharsus! 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
SCENE 2.
Ephesus. 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 'as 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
minist'red 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 practice, 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 restor'd: And not your knowledge, your personal pain, but even
Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon Such strong renown as time shall
never raze.
Enter two or three servants with a chest
FIRST SERVANT. So, lift there.
CERIMON. What's that?
FIRST SERVANT. Sir, even now did the sea toss up 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'ercharg'd 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 entreasur'd 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 drives 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 ever cracks for woe! This
chanc'd to-night.
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 vial 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 entranc'd
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 for ever.
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 SCENE 3.
Tharsus. 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
expir'd, 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
wand'ringly on us.
DIONYZA. O your sweet queen! That the strict Fates had pleas'd 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 nam'd 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
reliev'd, 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' th'
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 SCENE 4.
Ephesus. CERIMON'S house
Enter CERIMON THAISA
CERIMON. Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels, Lay with you in your
coffer; which are 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 caning time; but whether there Delivered, 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 ACT IV.
Enter GOWER
GOWER. Imagine Pericles arriv'd at Tyre, Welcom'd 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 Tharsus, 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 weav'd 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 th' 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 The dove of
Paphos might with 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
SCENE 1.
Tharsus. An open place near the seashore
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 in
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 resolv'd?
LEONINE. I am resolv'd.
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 chang'd With this unprofitable woe! Come, Give me your
flowers. On the sea margent 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 says, did never fear, But cried 'Good seamen!' to
the sailors, galling His kingly hands hauling ropes; And, clasping to the mast,
endur'd 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 of A canvas-climber. 'Ha!' says one 'wilt out?' And with a
dropping industry they skip From stern 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't.
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. [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
seiz'd 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
SCENE 2.
Mytilene. A brothel
Enter PANDER, BAWD, and BOULT
PANDER. Boult!
BOULT. Sir?
PANDER. Search the market narrowly. Mytilene is full of gallants. We lost too
much money this mart by being to 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.
PANDER. Therefore let's have fresh ones, whate'er we pay for them. If there
be not a conscience to be us'd in every trade, we shall never prosper.
BAWD. Thou say'st 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.
PANDER. Thou sayest true; they are too unwholesome, o' conscience. The poor
Transylvanian is dead that lay with the little baggage.
BOULT. Ay, she quickly poop'd him; she made him roast meat for worms. But
I'll go search the market. Exit
PANDER. Three or four thousand chequins were as pretty 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?
PANDER. 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 hatch'd. Besides, the sore
terms we stand upon with the gods will be strong with us for giving o'er.
BAWD. Come, other sorts offend as well as we.
PANDER. 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 refus'd.
BAWD. What's her price, Boult?
BOULT. I cannot be bated one doit of a thousand pieces.
PANDER. Well, follow me, my master; 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 PANDER and PIRATES
BAWD. Boult, take you the marks of her-the colour of her hair, complexion,
height, her 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 bow'd 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 return'd.
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 wat'red 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' th' 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; to
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 quench'd with some present practice.
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 bargain'd
for the joint-
BAWD. Thou mayest 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 chang'd yet.
BAWD. Boult, spend thou that in the town; report what sojourner we have;
you'll lose nothing by custom. When nature fram'd 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 water 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
SCENE 3.
Tharsus. 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'd give it to undo the
deed. O lady, Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princes To equal any single
crown o' th' earth I' th' justice of compare! O villain Leonine! Whom thou hast
pois'ned 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 thinks The petty wrens of Tharsus 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 distain 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 mawkin, Not worth the time of day.
It pierc'd me thorough; 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 SCENE 4.
Before MARINA'S monument at Tharsus
Enter GOWER
GOWER. Thus time we waste, and longest leagues make short; Sail seas in
cockles, have an wish but for't; Making, to take our 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' th' 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 Helicanus goes along.
Behind Is left to govern it, you bear in mind, Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late
Advanc'd in time to great and high estate. Well-sailing ships and bounteous
winds have brought This king to Tharsus-think this 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 of MARINA, whereat PERICLES
makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in
mighty passion departs. Then exeunt CLEON and DIONYZA
See how belief may suffer by foul show! This borrowed passion stands for true
old woe; And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd, With sighs shot through and
biggest tears o'ershower'd, Leaves Tharsus, 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, sweetest, and best lies here,
Who withered 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, swallowed some part o' th' earth;
Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'er-flowed,
Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestowed;
Wherefore she does-and swears she'll never stint-
Make raging battery upon shores of flint.'
No visor does become black villainy 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 Mytilen.Exit
SCENE 5.
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 preach'd 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 anything now that is virtuous; but I am out of the
road of rutting for ever. Exeunt
SCENE 6.
Mytilene. A room in the brothel
Enter PANDER, BAWD, and BOULT
PANDER. 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 ravisher 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
cavalleria and make our swearers priests.
PANDER. 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'd 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. [Aside 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 pac'd 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, PANDER, 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 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're 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 plac'd me
in this sty, where, since I came, Diseases have been sold dearer than physic-
That the gods Would set me free from this unhallowed place, Though they did
change me to the meanest bird That flies i' th' purer air!
LYSIMACHUS. I did not think Thou couldst have spoke so well; ne'er dreamt
thou
couldst. Had I brought hither a corrupted mind, Thy speech had altered 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 doorkeeper! 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 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. The nobleman would have dealt with her like 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 womenkind?
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 anything 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. That the gods Would safely deliver me from this
place! Here, here's gold for thee. If that thy master would gain by me, 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
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
arriv'd Here where his daughter dwells; and on this coast Suppose him now at
anchor. The city striv'd 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 fervour 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
SCENE 1.
On board PERICLES' Ship, off Mytilene. A pavilion on deck with a curtain
before it; PERICLES within it, reclining 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 is 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 is some of worth would come aboard; I pray greet
him 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 batt'ry 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. [He whispers FIRST 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 inflict 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, FIRST LORD, With MARINA and another girl
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 assur'd Came of gentle kind
and noble stock, I'd 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 suffered 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
gaz'd on like a comet. She speaks, My lord, that, may be, hath endur'd 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 countrywoman? 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-voic'd; her eyes
as jewel-like, And cas'd 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 achiev'd 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 lookest
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 lookest Like one I lov'd indeed. What were thy friends?
Didst thou not say, when I did push thee back- Which was when I perceiv'd
thee-that thou cam'st 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 opened.
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 thousand part Of my
endurance, thou art a man, and I Have suffered 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 Delivered 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 th' 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 Tharsus 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 never would 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 Tharsus,
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 life 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 Tharsus, 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 list'ning, 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 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 liv'st 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, MARINA, &C.
HELICANUS. Sir?
PERICLES. My purpose was for Tharsus, 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 SCENE 2.
Ephesus. Before the Temple of Diana
Enter GOWER
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 Mytilen To greet the King. So he thrived, That he is promis'd
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, an 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 fancies' thankful boon. Exit SCENE 3.
Ephesus. The Temple of Diana; 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 Tharsus Was nurs'd
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! [Swoons]
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 o'erboard with these very arms.
CERIMON. Upon this coast, I warrant you.
PERICLES. 'Tis most certain.
CERIMON. Look to the lady. O, she's but overjoy'd. Early in blustering morn
this lady was Thrown upon this shore. I op'd the coffin, Found there rich
jewels; recover'd her, and plac'd 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 nam'd 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 preserv'd; 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 plac'd 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 preserv'd 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-although not done, but meant. So, on your patience evermore
attending, New joy wait on you! Here our play has ending. Exit
THE END
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