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Pericles, Prince of Tyre



ANTIOCHUS	king of Antioch.

PERICLES	prince of Tyre.

	|  two lords of Tyre.

SIMONIDES	king of Pentapolis.

CLEON	governor of Tarsus.

LYSIMACHUS	governor of Mytilene.

CERIMON	a lord of Ephesus.

THALIARD	a lord of Antioch.

PHILEMON	servant to Cerimon.

LEONINE	servant to Dionyza.

	Marshal. (Marshal:)

	A Pandar. (Pandar:)

BOULT	his servant.

	The Daughter of Antiochus. (Daughter:)

DIONYZA	wife to Cleon.

THAISA	daughter to Simonides.

MARINA	daughter to Pericles and Thaisa.

LYCHORIDA	nurse to Marina.

	A Bawd. (Bawd:)

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


GOWER	as Chorus.

SCENE	Dispersedly in various countries.



	[Enter GOWER]

	[Before the palace of Antioch]

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




SCENE I	Antioch. A room in the palace.

	[Enter ANTIOCHUS, Prince PERICLES, and followers]

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

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

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

	[Music. Enter the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS]

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

ANTIOCHUS	Prince Pericles,--

PERICLES	That would be son to great Antiochus.

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

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

	[To the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS]

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

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

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

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

	[He reads the riddle]

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

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

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

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

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

PERICLES	Great king,
	Few love to hear the sins they love to act;
	'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.
	Who has a book of all that monarchs do,
	He's more secure to keep it shut than shown:
	For vice repeated is like the wandering wind.
	Blows dust in other's eyes, to spread itself;
	And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,
	The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear:
	To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts
	Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is throng'd
	By man's oppression; and the poor worm doth die for't.
	Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's
	their will;
	And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill?
	It is enough you know; and it is fit,
	What being more known grows worse, to smother it.
	All love the womb that their first being bred,
	Then give my tongue like leave to love my head.

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

	[Exeunt all but PERICLES]

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


	[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?


THALIARD	Doth your highness call?

	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?

	'Tis done.

ANTIOCHUS	         Enough.

	[Enter a Messenger]

	Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.

Messenger	My lord, prince Pericles is fled.


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

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

ANTIOCHUS	Thaliard, adieu!


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




SCENE II	Tyre. A room in the palace.


PERICLES	[To Lords without]  Let none disturb us.--Why should
	this change of thoughts,
	The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy,
	Be my so used a guest as not an hour,
	In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night,
	The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed me quiet?
	Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun them,
	And danger, which I fear'd, is at Antioch,
	Whose aim seems far too short to hit me here:
	Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits,
	Nor yet the other's distance comfort me.
	Then it is thus: the passions of the mind,
	That have their first conception by mis-dread,
	Have after-nourishment and life by care;
	And what was first but fear what might be done,
	Grows elder now and cares it be not done.
	And so with me: the great Antiochus,
	'Gainst whom I am too little to contend,
	Since he's so great can make his will his act,
	Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence;
	Nor boots it me to say I honour him.
	If he suspect I may dishonour him:
	And what may make him blush in being known,
	He'll stop the course by which it might be known;
	With hostile forces he'll o'erspread the land,
	And with the ostent of war will look so huge,
	Amazement shall drive courage from the state;
	Our men be vanquish'd ere they do resist,
	And subjects punish'd that ne'er thought offence:
	Which care of them, not pity of myself,
	Who am no more but as the tops of trees,
	Which fence the roots they grow by and defend them,
	Makes both my body pine and soul to languish,
	And punish that before that he would punish.

	[Enter HELICANUS, with other Lords]

First Lord	Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast!

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

HELICANUS	Peace, peace, and give experience tongue.
	They do abuse the king that flatter him:
	For flattery is the bellows blows up sin;
	The thing which is flatter'd, but a spark,
	To which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing;
	Whereas reproof, obedient and in order,
	Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err.
	When Signior Sooth here does proclaim a peace,
	He flatters you, makes war upon your life.
	Prince, pardon me, or strike me, if you please;
	I cannot be much lower than my knees.

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

	[Exeunt Lords]

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

HELICANUS	An angry brow, dread lord.

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

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

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

HELICANUS	[Kneeling]

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

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

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

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

HELICANUS	Alas, sir!

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

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

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

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

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




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


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

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

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

THALIARD	[Aside]  How! the king gone!

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

THALIARD	[Aside]          What from Antioch?

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

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

HELICANUS	Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.

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

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




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

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

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

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

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

DIONYZA	I'll do my best, sir.

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

DIONYZA	O, 'tis too true.

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

DIONYZA	Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it.

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

	[Enter a Lord]

Lord	Where's the lord governor?

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

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

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

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

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

Lord	I go, my lord.


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

	[Enter PERICLES with Attendants]

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

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

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

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

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




	[Enter GOWER]

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


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

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




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

	[Enter PERICLES, wet]

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

	[Enter three FISHERMEN]

First Fisherman	What, ho, Pilch!

Second Fisherman	Ha, come and bring away the nets!

First Fisherman	What, Patch-breech, I say!

Third Fisherman	What say you, master?

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

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

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

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

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

PERICLES	[Aside]  A pretty moral.

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

Second Fisherman	Why, man?

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

PERICLES	[Aside]  Simonides!

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

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

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

PERICLES	May see the sea hath cast upon your coast.

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

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

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

Second Fisherman	Canst thou catch any fishes, then?

PERICLES	I never practised it.

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

PERICLES	What I have been I have forgot to know;
	But what I am, want teaches me to think on:
	A man throng'd up with cold: my veins are chill,
	And have no more of life than may suffice
	To give my tongue that heat to ask your help;
	Which if you shall refuse, when I am dead,
	For that I am a man, pray see me buried.

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

PERICLES	I thank you, sir.

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

PERICLES	I did but crave.

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

PERICLES	Why, are all your beggars whipped, then?

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

	[Exit with Third Fisherman]

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

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

PERICLES	Not well.

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

PERICLES	The good King Simonides, do you call him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

First Fisherman	What mean you, sir?

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

First Fisherman	Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady?

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

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

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

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

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

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




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

	[Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, and Attendants]

SIMONIDES	Are the knights ready to begin the triumph?

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

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

	[Exit a Lord]

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

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

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

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

SIMONIDES	Who is the first that doth prefer himself?

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

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

	[The Second Knight passes over]

	Who is the second that presents himself?

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

	[The Third Knight passes over]

SIMONIDES	And what's the third?

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

	[The Fourth Knight passes over]

SIMONIDES	What is the fourth?

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

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

	[The Fifth Knight passes over]

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

	[The Sixth Knight, PERICLES, passes over]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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



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

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

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

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

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

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

KNIGHTS	We are honour'd much by good Simonides.

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

Marshal	Sir, yonder is your place.

PERICLES	Some other is more fit.

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

PERICLES	You are right courteous knights.

SIMONIDES	Sit, sir, sit.

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

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

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

THAISA	To me he seems like diamond to glass.

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

SIMONIDES	What, are you merry, knights?

Knights	Who can be other in this royal presence?

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

KNIGHTS	We thank your grace.

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

THAISA	What is it
	To me, my father?

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

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

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

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

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

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

PERICLES	I thank him.

THAISA	Wishing it so much blood unto your life.

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

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

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

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

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

	[The Knights dance]

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

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

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

	[The Knights and Ladies dance]

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


	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.




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


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

ESCANES	'Twas very strange.

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

ESCANES	'Tis very true.

	[Enter two or three Lords]

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

Second Lord	It shall no longer grieve without reproof.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All	Live, noble Helicane!

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

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

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




SCENE V	Pentapolis. A room in the palace.

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

First Knight	Good morrow to the good Simonides.

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

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

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

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

	[Exeunt Knights]

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


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.


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.

	Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.

	[Enter THAISA]

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

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

SIMONIDES	Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory?


	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?


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

THAISA	Yes, if you love me, sir.

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

SIMONIDES	What, are you both agreed?

BOTH	Yes, if it please your majesty.

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




	[Enter GOWER]

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


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

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





	[Enter PERICLES, on shipboard]

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

	[Enter LYCHORIDA, with an Infant]

		  Now, Lychorida!

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

PERICLES	How, how, Lychorida!

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

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

LYCHORIDA	Patience, good sir,
	Even for this charge.

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

	[Enter two Sailors]

First Sailor	What courage, sir? God save you!

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

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

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

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

PERICLES	That's your superstition.

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

PERICLES	As you think meet. Most wretched queen!

LYCHORIDA	Here she lies, sir.

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


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

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

Second Sailor	We are near Tarsus.

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

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

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




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

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

CERIMON	Philemon, ho!


PHILEMON	Doth my lord call?

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

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

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


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

	[Exeunt all but CERIMON]

	[Enter two Gentlemen]

First Gentleman	Good morrow.

Second Gentleman	Good morrow to your lordship.

CERIMON	Gentlemen,
	Why do you stir so early?

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

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

CERIMON	O, you say well.

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

CERIMON	I hold it ever,
	Virtue and cunning were endowments greater
	Than nobleness and riches: careless heirs
	May the two latter darken and expend;
	But immortality attends the former.
	Making a man a god. 'Tis known, I ever
	Have studied physic, through which secret art,
	By turning o'er authorities, I have,
	Together with my practise, made familiar
	To me and to my aid the blest infusions
	That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;
	And I can speak of the disturbances
	That nature works, and of her cures; which doth give me
	A more content in course of true delight
	Than to be thirsty after tottering honour,
	Or tie my treasure up in silken bags,
	To please the fool and death.

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

	[Enter two or three Servants with a chest]

First Servant	So; lift there.

CERIMON	                  What is that?

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

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

Second Gentleman	'Tis like a coffin, sir.

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

Second Gentleman	'Tis so, my lord.

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

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

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

Second Gentleman	A delicate odour.

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

First Gentleman	Most strange!

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

	[Reads from a scroll]

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

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

Second Gentleman	Most likely, sir.

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

	[Exit a Servant]

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

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

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

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

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

	[She moves]

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

Second Gentleman	Is not this strange?

First Gentleman	Most rare.

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

	[Exeunt, carrying her away]



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

	MARINA in her arms]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PERICLES	Madam, my thanks and prayers.

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

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




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


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

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

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

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




	[Enter GOWER]

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




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


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

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

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

LEONINE	I am resolved.

	[Enter MARINA, with a basket of flowers]

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

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

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

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

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

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

LEONINE	I warrant you, madam.

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

MARINA	My thanks, sweet madam.


	Is this wind westerly that blows?

LEONINE	South-west.

MARINA	When I was born, the wind was north.

LEONINE	Was't so?

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

LEONINE	When was this?

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

LEONINE	Come, say your prayers.

MARINA	What mean you?

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

MARINA	Why will you kill me?

LEONINE	To satisfy my lady.

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

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

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

LEONINE	I am sworn,
	And will dispatch.

	[He seizes her]

	[Enter Pirates]

First Pirate	Hold, villain!

	[LEONINE runs away]

Second Pirate	A prize! a prize!

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

	[Exeunt Pirates with MARINA]

	[Re-enter LEONINE]

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




SCENE II	Mytilene. A room in a brothel.

	[Enter Pandar, Bawd, and BOULT]

Pandar	Boult!


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

Bawd	Come, other sorts offend as well as we.

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

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

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

First Pirate	O, sir, we doubt it not.

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

Bawd	Boult, has she any qualities?

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

Bawd	What's her price, Boult?

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

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

	[Exeunt Pandar and Pirates]

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

BOULT	Performance shall follow.


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.


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

MARINA	Are you a woman?

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

MARINA	An honest woman, or not a woman.

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

MARINA	The gods defend me!

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

	[Re-enter BOULT]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bawd	Who, Monsieur Veroles?

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

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

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

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

MARINA	I understand you not.

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

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

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

Bawd	Thou mayst cut a morsel off the spit.

BOULT	I may so.

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

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

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

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

Bawd	Come your ways; follow me.

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

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




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

	[Enter CLEON and DIONYZA]

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

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

	You'll turn a child again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

CLEON	Heavens forgive it!

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

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

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





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

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


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

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

	[Reads the inscription on MARINA's monument]

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

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




SCENE V	Mytilene. A street before the brothel.

	[Enter, from the brothel, two Gentlemen]

First Gentleman	Did you ever hear the like?

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

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

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

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




SCENE VI	The same. A room in the brothel.

	[Enter Pandar, Bawd, and BOULT]

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

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

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

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

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

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


LYSIMACHUS	How now! How a dozen of virginities?

Bawd	Now, the gods to-bless your honour!

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

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

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

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

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

LYSIMACHUS	Well, call forth, call forth.

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

LYSIMACHUS	What, prithee?

BOULT	O, sir, I can be modest.

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

	[Exit BOULT]

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

	[Re-enter BOULT with MARINA]

	Is she not a fair creature?

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

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

LYSIMACHUS	I beseech you, do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

LYSIMACHUS	Ha' you done?

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

	[Exeunt Bawd, Pandar, and BOULT]

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

MARINA	What trade, sir?

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

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

LYSIMACHUS	How long have you been of this profession?

MARINA	E'er since I can remember.

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

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

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

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

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

MARINA	Who is my principal?

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

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

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

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

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

MARINA	The good gods preserve you!

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

	[Re-enter BOULT]

BOULT	I beseech your honour, one piece for me.

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


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

MARINA	 Whither would you have me?

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

	[Re-enter Bawd]

Bawd	How now! what's the matter?

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

Bawd	O abominable!

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

Bawd	Marry, hang her up for ever!

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

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

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

MARINA	Hark, hark, you gods!

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


BOULT	Come, mistress; come your ways with me.

MARINA	Whither wilt thou have me?

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

MARINA	Prithee, tell me one thing first.

BOULT	Come now, your one thing.

MARINA	What canst thou wish thine enemy to be?

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

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

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

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

BOULT	But can you teach all this you speak of?

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

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

MARINA	But amongst honest women.

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




	[Enter GOWER]

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




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

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

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

HELICANUS	That he have his. Call up some gentlemen.

Tyrian Sailor	Ho, gentlemen! my lord calls.

	[Enter two or three Gentlemen]

First Gentleman	Doth your lordship call?

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

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

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

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

LYSIMACHUS	Hail, reverend sir! the gods preserve you!

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

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

HELICANUS	First, what is your place?

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

	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?

	But bootless is your sight: he will not speak To any.

LYSIMACHUS	Yet let me obtain my wish.

HELICANUS	Behold him.

	[PERICLES discovered]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HELICANUS	She's a gallant lady.

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

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

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

	[MARINA sings]

LYSIMACHUS	Mark'd he your music?

MARINA	No, nor look'd on us.

LYSIMACHUS	See, she will speak to him.

MARINA	Hail, sir! my lord, lend ear.


MARINA	I am a maid,
	My lord, that ne'er before invited eyes,
	But have been gazed on like a comet: she speaks,
	My lord, that, may be, hath endured a grief
	Might equal yours, if both were justly weigh'd.
	Though wayward fortune did malign my state,
	My derivation was from ancestors
	Who stood equivalent with mighty kings:
	But time hath rooted out my parentage,
	And to the world and awkward casualties
	Bound me in servitude.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PERICLES	Prithee, speak:
	Falseness cannot come from thee; for thou look'st
	Modest as Justice, and thou seem'st a palace
	For the crown'd Truth to dwell in: I will
	believe thee,
	And make my senses credit thy relation
	To points that seem impossible; for thou look'st
	Like one I loved indeed. What were thy friends?
	Didst thou not say, when I did push thee back--
	Which was when I perceived thee--that thou camest
	From good descending?

MARINA	So indeed I did.

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

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

PERICLES	Tell thy story;
	If thine consider'd prove the thousandth part
	Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I
	Have suffer'd like a girl: yet thou dost look
	Like Patience gazing on kings' graves, and smiling
	Extremity out of act. What were thy friends?
	How lost thou them? Thy name, my most kind virgin?
	Recount, I do beseech thee: come, sit by me.

MARINA	My name is Marina.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PERICLES	At sea! what mother?

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

PERICLES	                  O, stop there a little!


	This is the rarest dream that e'er dull sleep
	Did mock sad fools withal: this cannot be:
	My daughter's buried. Well: where were you bred?
	I'll hear you more, to the bottom of your story,
	And never interrupt you.

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

PERICLES	I will believe you by the syllable
	Of what you shall deliver. Yet, give me leave:
	How came you in these parts? where were you bred?

MARINA	The king my father did in Tarsus leave me;
	Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,
	Did seek to murder me: and having woo'd
	A villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do't,
	A crew of pirates came and rescued me;
	Brought me to Mytilene. But, good sir,
	Whither will you have me? Why do you weep?
	It may be,
	You think me an impostor: no, good faith;
	I am the daughter to King Pericles,
	If good King Pericles be.

PERICLES	Ho, Helicanus!

HELICANUS	Calls my lord?

PERICLES	Thou art a grave and noble counsellor,
	Most wise in general: tell me, if thou canst,
	What this maid is, or what is like to be,
	That thus hath made me weep?

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

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

PERICLES	O Helicanus, strike me, honour'd sir;
	Give me a gash, put me to present pain;
	Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me
	O'erbear the shores of my mortality,
	And drown me with their sweetness. O, come hither,
	Thou that beget'st him that did thee beget;
	Thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus,
	And found at sea again! O Helicanus,
	Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods as loud
	As thunder threatens us: this is Marina.
	What was thy mother's name? tell me but that,
	For truth can never be confirm'd enough,
	Though doubts did ever sleep.

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

PERICLES	I am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now
	My drown'd queen's name, as in the rest you said
	Thou hast been godlike perfect,
	The heir of kingdoms and another like
	To Pericles thy father.

MARINA	Is it no more to be your daughter than
	To say my mother's name was Thaisa?
	Thaisa was my mother, who did end
	The minute I began.

PERICLES	Now, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child.
	Give me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus;
	She is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,
	By savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all;
	When thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge
	She is thy very princess. Who is this?

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

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

HELICANUS	My lord, I hear none.

	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.


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


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

	[Exeunt all but PERICLES]

	[DIANA appears to PERICLES as in a vision]

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


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



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


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

	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.





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

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




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

	[Enter PERICLES, with his train; LYSIMACHUS,

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

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


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

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

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

CERIMON	Upon this coast, I warrant you.

PERICLES	'Tis most certain.

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

PERICLES	May we see them?

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

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

PERICLES	The voice of dead Thaisa!

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

PERICLES	Immortal Dian!

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

	[Shows a ring]

PERICLES	This, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness
	Makes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,
	That on the touching of her lips I may
	Melt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried
	A second time within these arms.

MARINA	My heart
	Leaps to be gone into my mother's bosom.

	[Kneels to THAISA]

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

THAISA	Blest, and mine own!

HELICANUS	Hail, madam, and my queen!

THAISA	I know you not.

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

THAISA	'Twas Helicanus then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


	[Enter GOWER]

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


Next: Romeo and Juliet