Hel.

With patience bear Such griefs as you do lay upon yourself. Per. Thou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus: Who minister'st a potion unto me, That thou would'st 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, Bring arms to princes, and to subjects joys. 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 their years:
And should he doubt it, (as no doubt he doth,)
That I should open to the listening air,
How many worthy princes' bloods were shed,
To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,
To lop that doubt, he'll fill this land with arms,
And make pretence of wrong that I have done him;
When all, for mine, if I may call't offence,
Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence :
Which love to all (of which thyself art one,
Who now reprov'st me for it).

Hel.

Alas, sir!

Per. Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks,

Musings into my mind, a 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.
Hel. Well, my lord, since you have given me
leave to speak,

Freely I'll speak. Antiochus you fear,
And justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,
Who either by publick 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 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.
Per. I do not doubt thy faith;

But should he wrong my liberties in absence

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

Per. 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,

Enter THALIARD.

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

Enter HELICANUS, ESCANES, and other Lords.

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

thal. How the king gone!

Hel. 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

Thal.

What from Antioch? | Aside Hel. 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, would correct himself;
So puts himself unto the shipman's toil,
With whom each minute threatens life or death.
Thal. Well, I perceive
[Aside

I shall not be hang'd now, although I would;
But since he's gone, the king it sure must please,
He 'scap'd the land, to perish on the seas.—
But I'll present me. Peace to the lords of Tyre!

Hel. Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.
Thal. From him I come

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

Hel. We have no reason to desire it, since
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

Here they're but felt, and seen with mistful eyes, But like to groves, being topp'd, they higher rise. Cle. O Dionyza,

Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it,
Or can conceal his hunger, till he famish?
Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep our woes
Into the air: our eyes do weep, till lungs
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.
Dio. I'll do my best, sir.

Cle. This Tharsus, o'er which I have government, (A city, on whom plenty held full hand,) For riches, strew'd herself even in the streets; Whose towers bore heads so high, they kiss'd the clouds,

And strangers ne'er beheld, but wonder'd 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 gla 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.

Dio. 0, 'tis too true.

Cle. But see what heaven can do! By this our

change,

These mouths, whom 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 nousle 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?

Dio. Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it. Cle. 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 ?
Cle. Here.

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

Enter GowER.

Gow. Here have you seen a mighty king His child, I wis, to incest bring; A better prince, and benign lord, Prove awful both in deed and word. Be quiet then, as men should be, Till he hath pass'd necessity.

Lord. We have descried, upon our neighbouring shore,

A portly sail of ships make hitherward.
Cle. 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,
Have stuff'd these hollow vessels with their power,
To beat us down, the which are down already;
And make a conquest of unhappy me,
Whereas no glory's got to overcome.

Lord. That's the least fear; for, by the semblance

Of their white flags display'd, they bring us peace, And come to us as favourers, not as foes.

Cle. Thou speak'st like him's untutor'd to repeat, Who makes the fairest show, means most deceit. But bring they what they will, what need we fear? The ground's the lowest, and we are half way there. Go tell their general, we attend him here,

To know for what he comes, and whence he comes, And what he craves.

Lord. I go, my lord.

[Erit.

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

Enter PERICLES, with Attendants.

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

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

you.

Per. Rise, I pray you, rise; We do not look for reverence, but for love, And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men. Cle. 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.

Per. Which welcome we'll accept ; feast here a while,

Until our stars that frown, lend us a smile.

I'll show you those in troubles reign,
Losing a mite, a mountain gain.
The good in conversation
(To whom I give my benizon,)
Is still at Tharsus, where each man
Thinks all is writ he spoken can:
And, to remember what he does,
Gild his statue glorious:

[Exeunt.

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; then gives the Messenger a reward, and knights him. Exeunt PERICLES, CLEON, &c. severally.

Gow. Good Helicane hath staid at home, Not to eat honey like a drone, From others' labours; forth 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 hid intent, to murder him; And that in Tharsus was not best Longer for him to make his rest : He knowing so, put forth to seas, Where when men been, there's seldom ease: For now the wind begins to blow; Thunder above, and deeps below, Make such unquiet, that the ship Should house him safe, is wreck'd and split; And he, good prince, having all lost, By waves from coast to coast is tost; All perishen of man, of pelf, Ne aught escapen but himself; Till fortune, tir'd with doing bad, Threw him ashore, to give him glad : And here he comes: what shall be next, Pardon old Gower; this long's the text. [Exit. SCENE I.

―

Pentapolis. An open Place by the Sea Side.

Enter PERICLES, wet.

Per. Yet cease your ire, ye 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 watry grave, Here to have death in peace, is all he'll crave. Enter Three Fishermen.

1 Fish. What, ho, Pilche!

2 Fish. Ho! come, and bring away the nets.

1 Fish. What Patch-breech, I say!

3 Fish. 'Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that were cast away before us, even now.

1 Fish. 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.

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'the land, who never leave gaping, till they've swallow'd the whole parish, church. steeple, bells and all.

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

1 Fish. Why, as men do a-land; the great ones

Per. A pretty moral.

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

2 Fish. Why, man?

3 Fish. 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

Per. Simonides?

3 Fish. We would purge the land of these drones, that rob the bee of her honey.

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

2 Fish. Honest! good fellow, what's that? if it be a day fits you, scratch it out of the calendar, and no body will look after it.

Per. Nay, see, the sea hath cast upon your

coast

2 Fish. What a drunken knave was the sea, to cast thee in our way!

Per. 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.

1 Fish. No, friend, cannot you beg? here's them in our country of Greece, gets more with begging, than we can do with working.

2 Fish. Canst thou catch any fishes then? Per. I never practis'd it.

2 Fish. Nay, then thou wilt starve sure; for here's nothing to be got now a-days, unless thou can'st fish for't.

Per. What I have been, I have forgot to know; But what I am, want teaches me to think on; A man shrunk 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 I am a man, pray see me buried.

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

Per. I thank you, sir.

2 Fish. Hark you, my friend, you not beg.

Per. I did but crave.

2 Fish. But crave? Then I'll turn craver too,

and so I shall 'scape whipping.

Per. Why, are all your beggars whipped then? 2 Fish. O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your beggars were whipped, I would wish no better office, than to be beadle. But, master, I'll go draw up the net. [Exeunt Two of the Fishermen. Per. How well this honest mirth becomes their labour !

Re-enter the Two Fishermen, drawing up a net.

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

Per. An armour, friends! I pray you, let me
see it.

Thanks, fortune, yet, that after all my crosses,
Thou giv'st me somewhat to repair myself:
And, though it was mine own, part of mine
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
'Twirt me and death; (and pointed to this brace :)
For that it sav'd me, keep it; in like necessity,
Which gods protect thee from! it may defend thee.
It kept where I kept, I so dearly lov'd it;
Till the rough seas, that spare not any man,
Took it in rage, though calm'd, they give't again :
I thank thee for't; my shipwreck's now no ill,
Since I have here my father's gift by will.

1 Fish. What mean you, sir?

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't I may appear a gentleman;
And if that ever my low fortunes better,
I'll pay your bounties; till then, rest your debtor.

1 Fish. Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady? Per. I'll show the virtue I have borne in arms. 1 Fish. Why, do ye take it, and the gods give thee good on't!

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

Per. Believe't, I will.

Now, by your furtherance, I am cloth'd in steel;
And spite of all the rupture of the sea,
This jewel holds his biding on my arm;
Unto thy value will I mount myself
Upon a courser, whose delightful steps
Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread. -

MUURSTO

Only, my friend, I yet am unprovided
Of a pair of bases.

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

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

SCENE II. - The same. A publick 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. Sim. Are the knights ready to begin the triumph? 1 Lord. They are, my liege;

And stay your coming to present themselves.
Sim. Return them, we are ready; and our
daughter,

In honour of whose birth these triumphs are,
Sits here, like beauty's child, whom nature gat
For men to see, and seeing wonder at. [Exit a Lord.
Thai. It pleaseth you, my father, to express
My commendations great, whose merit's less.

Sim. 'Tis 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 renown, if not respected.
'Tis now your honour, daughter, to explain
The labour of each knight, in his device.

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

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

Sim. Who is the first that doth prefer himself? Thai. A knight of Sparta, my renowned father; And the device he bears upon his shield Is a black Æthiop, reaching at the sun; The word, Lux tua vita mihi.

Sim. He loves you well, that holds his life of you. [The second Knight passes. Who is the second, that presents himself?

Thai. A prince of Macedon, my royal father; And the device he bears upon his shield

Sim. Knights,

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

Per. 'Tis more by fortune, lady, than my merit. Sim. Call it by what you will, the day is yours;

And here, I hope, is none that envies it.
In framing artists, art hath thus decreed,
To make some good, but others to exceed,
And you're her labour'd scholar. Come, queen
o'the feast,

(For, daughter, so you are,) here take your place : Marshal the rest, as they deserve their grace.

Knights. We are honour'd much by good Simo

nides.

Per. 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 be 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 a glow-worm in the night,
The which hath fire in darkness, none in light;
Whereby I see that Time's the king of men,
For he's their parent, and he is their grave,
And gives them what he will, not what they crave.
Sim. What, are you merry, knights?

1 Knight. Who can be other, in this royal presence?

Sim. Here, with a cup that's stor❜d unto the brim,

Thai. By Juno, that is queen

Of marriage, all the viands that I eat
Do seem unsavoury, wishing him my meat!
Sure he's a gallant gentleman.

Sim.

He's but

A country gentleman;

He has done no more than other knights have done; Broken a staff, or so; so let it pass.

Thai. To me he seems like diamond to glass.

Thai. Wishing it so much blood unto your life. Per. I thank both him and you, and pledge him freely.

That. And further he desires to know of you,
Of whence you are, your name and parentage.
Per. A gentleman of Tyre-(my name, Pe-
ricles;
My education being 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.
Thai. He thanks your grace; names himself
Pericles,

A gentleman of Tyre, who only by
Misfortune of the seas has been bereft
Of ships and men, and cast upon this shore.

Sim. 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