And not to be a rebel to her state; Here comes my daughter, she can witness it. Enter THAISA. Per. Then, as you are as virtuous as fair, Who takes offence at that would make me glad? I'll bring you in subjection. Will you, not having my consent, bestow Your love and your affections on a stranger? And being join'd, I'll thus your hopes destroy ;And for a further grief,-God give you joy! What, are you both pleas'd? Thai. Yes, if you love me, sir. Per. Even as my life, my blood that fosters it. Sim. What, are you both agreed? Both. Yes, 'please your majesty. Sim. It pleaseth me so well, I'll see you wed; Then, with what haste you can, get you to bed. [Exeunt. Enter GoWER. ACT III. Gow. Now sleep yslaked hath the rout; No din but snores, the house about, Made louder by the o'er-fed breast Of this most pompous marriage feast. The cat, with eyne of burning coal, Now couches 'fore the mouse's hole; And crickets sing at th'oven's mouth, As the blither for their drouth. Hymen hath brought the bride to bed, Where, by the loss of maidenhead, A babe is moulded ;-Be attent, And time that is so briefly spent, With your fine fancies quaintly eche; What's dumb in show, I'll plain with speech. Dumb show. Enter PERICLES and SIMONIDES at one door, with Attendants; a Messenger meets them, kneels, and gives PERICLES a letter. PERICLES shows it to SIMONIDES; the Lords kneel to the former. Then enter THAISA with child, and LYCHORIDA. SIMONIDES shows his daughter the letter; she rejoices: she and PERICLES take leave of her Father, and depart. Then SIMONIDES, &c. retire. Gow. By many a dearn and painful perch, Of Pericles the careful search By the four opposing coignes, Which the world together joins, Is made with all due diligence, That horse, and sail, and high expence, Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre (Fame answering the most strong inquire,) To the court of king Simonides Are letters brought, the tenour these: Antiochus and his daughter's dead; The crown of Tyre, but he will none: Will take the crown. The sum of this, And every one with claps, 'gan sound, This stage, the ship, upon whose deck SCENE I. Enter PERICLES, on a ship at sea. Per. Thou God of this great vast, rebuke these surges, Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that hast Upon the winds command, bind them in brass, Having call'd them from the deep! O, still thy deaf'ning, Thy dreadful thunders; gently quench thy nimble, Sulphureous flashes !-O how, Lychorida, How does my queen ?-Thou storm, thou! venomously Wilt thou spit all thyself?-The seaman's whistle Is as a whisper in the ears of death, Enter LYCHORIDA, with an Infant. Too young for such a place, who, if it had Lyc. Patience, good sir; do not assist the Of this poor infant, this fresh-new sea-farer, I would, it would be quiet. 1 Sail. Slack the bolins there; thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow and split thyself. 2 Sail. But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon, I care not. 1 Sail. Sir, your queen must overboard; the sea works high, the wind is loud, and will not lie till the ship be cleared of the dead. Per. That's your superstition. 1 Sail. Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it still hath been observed; and we are strong in earnest. Therefore briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight. Per. Be it as you think meet.-Most wretched queen! Lyc. Here she lies, sir. Per. A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my dear; No light, no fire: the unfriendly elements 2 Sail. Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulk'd and bitumed ready. Per. I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this? 2 Sail. We are near Tharsus. Per. Thither, gentle mariner, Alter thy course for Tyre. When can'st thou reach it? 2 Sail. By break of day, if the wind cease. There will I visit Cleon, for the babe Virtue and cunning were endowments greater A more content in course of true delight 2 Gent. Your honour has through Ephesus pour'd forth Your charity, and hundreds call themselves Your creatures, who by you have been restor❜d: And not your knowledge, personal pain, but even Your purse, still open, hath built lord Cerimon Such strong renown as time shall never Enter two Servants, with a chest. Cer. Set it down, let's look on it. 2 Gent. 'Tis like a coffin, sir. Cer. Whate'er it be, "Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight; 2 Gent. 'Tis so, my lord. Cer. How close 'tis caulk'd and bitum'd!Did the sea cast it up? Serv. I never saw so huge a billow, sir, As toss'd it upon shore. Cer. Come, wrench it open; Soft, soft!-it smells most sweetly in my sense. 2 Gent. A delicate odour. Cer. As ever hit my nostril; so,-up with it. O you most potent god! what's here? a corse! 1 Gent. Most strange! Cer. Shrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and entreasur'd With bags of spices full! A passport too! [Unfolds a scroll. rough, That threw her in the sea. Make fire within ; Enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire. 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 en tranc'd Above five hours. See, how she 'gins to blow Into life's flower again! 1 Gent. The heavens, sir, Through you, increase our wonder, and set up Must in your child be thought on. If neglection Your fame for ever. Cer. She is alive; behold, Her eye-lids, cases to those heavenly jewels Begin to part their fringes of bright gold; Rare as you seem to be! Thai. O dear Diana, [She moves. Where am I? Where's my lord? What world is this? 2 Gent. Is not this strange? 1 Gent. Most rare. Cer. Hush, 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, come; And Esculapius guide us! [Exeunt, carrying Thaisa away. SCENE III.-Tharsus. A room in CLEON'S house. Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, LYCHORIDA, and MARINA. Per. Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone; My twelve months are expir'd, and Tyrus stands In a litigious peace. You, and your lady, Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods Make up the rest upon you! Cle. Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally, Yet glance full wand'ringly on us. Dion. O your sweet queen! Should therein make me vile, the common body, Per. I believe you; Your honour and your goodness teach me credit, Without your vows. Till she be married, madam, By bright Diana, whom we honour all, Unscissar'd shall this hair of mine remain, Though I show will in't. So I take my leave. Good madam, make me blessed in your care In bringing up my child. Dion. I have one myself, Who shall not be more dear to my respect, Per. Madam, my thanks and prayers. Cle. We'll bring your grace even to the edge o'the shore; Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune, and The gentlest winds of heaven. Per. I will embrace Your offer. Come, dear'st madam.-O, no tears, Lychorida, no tears: Look to your little mistress, on whose grace You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Ephesus. A room in CERIMON'S house. Enter CERIMON and THAISA. Cer. Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels, Lay with you in your coffer: which are now At your command. Know you the character? Thai. It is my lord's. That the strict fates had pleas'd you had brought That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember, her hither, To have bless'd mine eyes! Per. We cannot but obey The powers above us. Could I rage and roar Cle. Fear not, my lord: Your grace, that fed my country with your corn, (For which the people's prayers still fall upon you,) Even on my yearning time; but whether there I cannot rightly say: But since king Pericles, Cer. Madam, if this you purpose as you speak, Thai. My recompense is thanks, that's all; Yet my good will is great, though the gift small. [Exeunt. ACT IV. Enter GOWER. Gow. Imagine Pericles at Tyre, Now to Marina bend your mind, Which makes her both the heart and place Be't when she weav'd the sleided silk With the dove of Paphos might the crow The pregnant instrument of wrath Only I carry winged time Post on the lame feet of my rhyme; Unless your thoughts went on my way.— With Leonine, a murderer. VOL. II. Exit. SCENE I.-Tharsus. An open place near the sea-shore. Enter DIONYZA, and LEONINE. Dion. Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do it: 'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known. Thou canst not do a thing i'the world so soon, To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience, Which is but cold, inflame love in thy bosom, Leon. I'll do't; but yet she is a goodly crea Consume your blood with sorrowing: you have A nurse of me. Lord! how your favour's chang'd With this unprofitable woe! Come, come; Give me your wreath of flowers, ere the sea mat it. Walk forth with Leonine: the air is quick there, I'll not bereave you of your servant. I love the king your father, and yourself, 2 F |