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Or dead, gives cause to mourn his funeral,
And leaves us to our free election.

2 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,) Will soon to ruin fall, your noble self,

That best know'st how to rule, and how to reign, We thus submit unto, our sovereign.

All. Live, noble Helicane!

Hel. Try 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 then entreat you To forbear choice i'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 noblemen, 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.

1 Lord. To wisdom he's a fool that will not yield;

And, since lord Helicane enjoineth us,
We with our travels will endeavour it.

Hel. Then you love us, we you, and we'll clasp hands;

When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands.
SCENE V.- Pentapolis. A Room in the Palace.
Enter SIMONIDES, reading a letter, the Knights meet


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Enter GoWER.

Gow. 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 th' oven's mouth, As 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. Enter PERICLES and SIMONIDES at one door, with Attendants; a Messenger meets them, kneels, and gives PERICLES a letter. PERICLES shows it to SIMONIDES; the Lords kneel to the former. Then enter THAISA with child, and LYCHORIDA. MONIDES shows his daughter the letter; she rejoices: she and PERICLES take leave of her father, and depart. Then SIMONIDES, &c. retire.


Gow. By many a dearn and painful perch, Of Pericles the careful search

Per. 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?
Thai. Why, sir, say if you had,

Who takes offence at that would make me glad?
Sim. Yea, mistress, are you so perémptory?

I am glad of it with all my heart. [Aside.] I'll tame


I'll bring you in subjection.

Will you, not having my consent, bestow Your love and your affections on a stranger? (Who, for aught I know to the contrary,

Or think, may be as great in blood as Ï.) [Aside. Hear therefore, mistress; frame your will to mine,


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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 a further grief, God give you joy! What, are you both pleas'd?

Thai. Yes, if you love me, sir. Per. Even as my life, my blood that fosters it. Sim. What, are you both agreed? Both. Yes, 'please your majesty. Sim. It pleaseth me so well, I'll see you wed; Then, with what haste you can, get you to bed.


By the four opposing coignes,
Which the world together joins,
Is made, with all due diligence,
That horse, and sail, and high expence,
Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre
(Fame answering the most strong inquire,)
To the court of king Simonides
Are letters brought; the tenour these:
Antiochus and his daughter's dead;
The men of Tyrus, on the head
Of Helicanus would set on

The crown of Tyre, but he will none:
The mutiny there he hastes t'appease;
Says to them, if king Pericles
Come not, in twice six moons, home,
He obedient to their doom,

Will take the crown. The sum of this,
Brought hither to Pentapolis,
Y-ravished the regions round,

And every one with claps, 'gan 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!
Doth fall in travail with her fear:
And what ensues in this fell storm,
Shall, for itself, itself perform.
I nill relate, action may
Conveniently the rest convey:
Which might not what by me is told.
In your imagination hold

This stage, the ship, upon whose deck
The sea-tost prince appears to speak.

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Even for this charge.


Lyc. 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.
Per. How! how, Lychorida!

Lyc. 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.


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 Vie honour with yourselves.

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Patience, good sir,

Per. Now, mild may be thy life! For a more blust'rous birth had never babe: Quiet and gentle thy conditions!

For thou'rt the rudeliest welcom'd to this world,
That e'er 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.

Throw their best eyes upon it!

Enter Two Sailors.

1 Sail. What courage, sir? God save you.

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

I would it would be quiet.

1 Sail. Slack the bolins there; thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow, and split thyself.

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

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

Per. That's your superstition.

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

Per. Be it as you think meet. Most wretched queen!

Lyc. Per.

Here she lies, sir.

A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my

No light, no fire: the unfriendly elements
Forgot thee utterly; nor have I time
Must cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze;
To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight
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. Lychorida,
Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,
My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander
Bring me the sattin coffer: lay the babe
Upon the pillow; hie thee, whiles I say
A priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.

2 Sail. Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulk'd and bitumed ready.

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Now the good Till now, I ne'er endur'd.

Phil. Doth my lord call?

Cer. Get fire and meat for these poor men: It has been a turbulent and stormy night. Serv. I have been in many; but such a night as this,

Cer. Your master will be dead ere you return; There's nothing can be minister'd to nature,

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Nature should be so conversant with pain,
Being thereto not compell'd.


I held 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 physick, 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 gives 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.

2 Gent. Your honour has through Ephesus pour'd


Your charity, and hundreds calls themselves
Your creatures, who by you have been restor'd:
And not your knowledge, personal pain, but even
Your purse, still open, hath built lord Cerimon
Such strong renown as time shall never

Enter Two Servants with a chest.
Serv. So; lift there.


What is that?

Serv. Sir, even now Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest ; 'Tis of some wreck.


Set 't down, let's look on it. 2 Gent. 'Tis like a coffin, sir. Cer.

Come, wench it open;


Soft, soft!

it smells most sweetly in my sense. 2 Gent. A delicate odour.

Whate'er it be, 'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight; If the sea's stomach be o'ercharg'd with gold, It is a good constraint of fortune, that

It belches upon us.

2 Gent.

'Tis so, my lord.

Cer. How close 'tis caulk'd and bitum'd! Did the sea cast it up?

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

Cer. As ever hit my nostril; so,-up with it. O you most potent gods! What's here? a corse! 1 Gent. Most strange!

Cer. Shrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and entreasur'd

With bags of spices full! A passport too!
Apollo, perfect me i'the characters!

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Enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire. Well said, well said; the fire and the cloths. The rough and woful musick that we have, Cause it to sound, 'beseech you.

The vial once more; - - How thou stirr'st, thou


pray you, give her air:

The musick there. I
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!

1 Gent.
The heavens, sir,
Through you, increase our wonder, and set up
Your fame for ever.


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
Appear, to make the world twice rich. O live,
And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,
Rare as you seem to be!
[She moves.
O dear Diana,
Where am I? Where's my lord? What world is

2 Gent. Is not this strange?
1 Gent.
Most rare.

Cer. Hush, gentle neighbours; Lend me your hands: to the next chamber bear


Get linen; now this matter must be look'd to, For her relapse is mortal. Come, come, come; And Esculapius guide us!

[Exeunt, carrying This away.

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Per. Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be

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!

Cle. Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt
you mortally,

Yet glance full wand'ringly on us.


O your sweet queen! That the strict fates had pleas'd you had brought her hither,

To have bless'd mine eyes!

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 babe Marina (whom For she was born at sea, I have nam'd so,) here I charge your charity withal, and leave her The infant of your care; beseeching you To give her princely training, that she may be Manner'd as she is born.


Fear not, my lord : 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!


I believe you; Your honour and your goodness teach me credit, Without your vows. Till she be married, madam, By bright Diana, whom we honour all, Unscissar'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.

Enter GoWER.

Gow. Imagine Pericles at Tyre,
Welcom'd to his own desire.
His woful queen leave at Ephess,
To Dian there a votaress.
Now to Marina bend your mind,
Whom our fast growing scene must find
At Tharsus, and by Cleon train'd
In musick, 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

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


Madam, my thanks and prayers. Cle. We'll bring your grace even to the edge o'the shore;

Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune, and The gentlest winds of heaven.


I will embrace Your offer. Come, dear'st madam. — O, no tears, Lychorida, no tears

Look to your little mistress, on whose grace
You may depend hereafter.

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Come, my lord. [Exeunt.

Ephesus. A Room in Cerimon's House.


Cer. Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels,

Lay with you in your coffer: which are now
At your command. Know you the character?

Thai. It is my lord's.

That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember,
Even on my yearning time; but whether there
Delivered or no, 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.

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

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

Be't when she weav'd the sleided silk
With fingers, long, small, white as milk;
Or when she would with sharp neeld wound
The cambrick, which she made more sound
By hurting it; or when to the lute

She sung, and made the night-bird mute,
That still records with moan; or when
She would with rich and constant pen
Vail to her mistress Dian; still
This Philoten contends in skill
With absolute Marina: so

With the dove of Paphos might the crow
Vie feathers white. Marina gets
All praises, which are paid as debts,
And not as given. This so darks
In Philoten all graceful marks,
That Cleon's wife, with envy rare,
A present murderer does prepare
For good Marina, that her daughter
Might stand peerless by this slaughter.
The sooner her vile thoughts to stead,
Lychorida, our nurse is dead;

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