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.

2 Gent. That is the cause we trouble you so early; "Tis not our husbandry.

Cer.

Oh! you say well.

1 Gent. 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.

Cer.

I hold it ever,

Virtue and cunning' were endowments greater

Than nobleness and riches: careless heirs

May the two latter darken and expend ;
But immortality attends the former,
Making a man a god. 'Tis known, I ever
Have studied physic, through which secret art,
By turning o'er authorities, I have

(Together with my practice) made familiar
To me, and to my aid, the blest infusions
That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;
And 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,

Virtue and CUNNING] "Cunning" here means knowledge, as in Vol. v. p. 288. "Rich 'tire" above, is, of course, rich attire: see this Vol. p. 323. Or tie my TREASURE up] The old copies have pleasure; but most likely

a misprint, the compositor having caught the commencement of the word from the next line. Still, "pleasure" is easily reconcileable with a meaning.

To please the fool and death.

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, your personal pain, but even
Your purse, still open, hath built lord Cerimon

Such strong renown as time shall never—

Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest: 'Tis of some wreck.

Cer.

Set it down; let's look upon't.

2 Gent. "Tis like a coffin, sir.

Whate'er it be,

Cer. "Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight: If the sea's stomach be o'ercharg'd with gold,

'Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us. 2 Gent. "Tis so, my lord.

Cer.

Did the sea cast it up?

How close 'tis caulk'd and bitum’d ’.

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.

Oh, you most potent gods! what's here? a corse?

1 Gent. Most strange!

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

With full bags of spices! A passport too :

Apollo, perfect me i' the characters!

"Here I give to understand,

(If e'er this coffin drive a-land)

I, king Pericles, have lost

[Unfolds a scroll.

[Reads.

This queen, worth all our mundane cost.

7 How close 'tis caulk'd and BITUM'd.] The old copies misprint "bitum'd," (which, from what has gone before, is evidently the true word) bottom'd. It is said in Wilkins' novel that the chest was "well bitumed."

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 liv'st, Pericles, thou hast a heart

That even cracks for woe!-This chanc'd to-night.

2 Gent. Most likely, sir.

Cer.

Nay, certainly to-night;

For look, how fresh she looks.-They were too rough,
That threw her in the sea.-Make fire within:
Fetch hither all the boxes in my closet.

Death may usurp on nature many hours,
And yet the fire of life kindle again
The overpressed spirits. I heard

Of an Egyptian, that had nine hours lien dead,
Who was by good appliance recovered.

Enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire.

Well said, well said; the fire and the cloths.-
The rough and woful music that we have',

Cause it to sound, beseech you.

The vial once more ;-how thou stirr'st, thou block!-

The music there!-I pray you, give her air.

Gentlemen,

This queen will live: nature awakes a warm
Breath out of her': she hath not been entranc'd

8 Who was by good appliance recovered.] The words of the novel founded upon "Pericles," show that this passage is corrupt, and that Cerimon means, that he has heard of an Egyptian who possessed the power of restoring those who had for nine hours lain in a state of apparent death. The words are: "I have read of some Egyptians, who after four houres death (if a man may call it so) have raised impoverished bodies, like to this, unto their former health." Sign. F 2 b. Perhaps, for "impoverished," we ought to read imperished. The Egyptians were celebrated for their magical powers: see "Othello," this Vol. p. 82.

" Well SAID, well SAID;] i. e. "Well done, well done," as often before: see Vol. ii. p. 380; Vol. iii. p. 415; Vol. v. p. 65, &c.

1 The ROUGH and woful music that we have,] So every old edition, but we may feel assured that the epithet "rough was a mistake or a misprint. We hardly know what to suggest instead of it, but the natural reading seems to be, “The slow and woful music that we have." Rude for "rough" would not answer the purpose, neither is it easy to see how "rough" could have been substituted by the old compositor for slow or rude.

2 BREATH out of her:] Malone states that "the old copies read-a warmth breath out of her." This should seem to be a mistake: the text is simply, "nature awakes a warm breath out of her!" i. e. Cerimon perceives a warm

Above five hours. See, how she 'gins to blow
Into life's flower again!

Through you, increase our wonder, and set up
Your fame for ever.

Cer.

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!

Oh dear Diana!

[She moves. Thai. Where am I? Where's my lord? What world is this? 2 Gent. Is not this strange?

1 Gent.

Cer.

Most rare.

Hush, gentle neighbours!

Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her.
Get linen now this matter must be look'd to,

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

breath come from her. Modern editors (some without the slightest notice, and all without the slightest necessity) alter the text of every old impression to "a warmth breathes out of her." What is here said in the novel by Wilkins is this: "The veines waxed warme, the arteries beganne to beate, and the lungs drew in the fresh aire againe; and being perfectly come to her selfe, lifting up those now againe pricelesse diamonds of her eyes, Oh Lord! quoth she, where am I? for it seemeth to me that I have beene in a strange countrey." Sign. F 3.

3 Begin to part their fringes of bright gold:] We need scarcely refer our readers to the beautiful passage in "The Tempest," A. i. sc. 2:

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance

And say what thou seest yond'."

The lines are excellently illustrated and justified by Coleridge, in his "Ninth Lecture on Shakespeare and Milton," 8vo, 1856, p. 123.

VOL. VI.

Ff

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 wanderingly on us‘.

Dion.

Oh your sweet queen!

That the strict fates had pleas'd you had brought her hither,

To have bless'd mine eyes!

Per.

The powers above us.

We cannot but obey

Could I rage and roar

As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end

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

Cle.
Fear not, my lord, but think
Your grace, that fed my country with your corn,
(For which the people's prayers still fall upon you)
Must in your child be thought on. If neglection'
Should therein make me vile, the common body,
By you reliev'd, would force me to my duty;
But if to that my nature need a spur,

The gods revenge it upon me and mine
To the end of generation!

Per.

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,
Unscissar'd shall this hair of mine remain",

Yet glance full WANDERINGLY on us.] The old copies have wondringly, and in the preceding line shakes for "shafts," and haunt for "hurt," excepting the folio, 1664, which has hate. The several amendments were introduced by Steevens. In the speech of Pericles the folio omits "litigious :" lower down Malone rejected the epithet "gentle " before "babe," because, forsooth, it lengthened the verse to twelve syllables-an inexcusable violence.

5 If NEGLECTION] We have already had this word in "Henry VI., Part I.," A. iv. sc. 3, Vol. iii. p. 710, accompanied by the epithet "sleeping." It occurs again in "Troilus and Cressida," A. i. sc. 3, Vol. iv. p. 498, where Ulysses complains of the "neglection of degree."

6 UNSCISSAR'D shall this HAIR of mine remain,] All the old copies read "Unsister'd shall this heir of mine remain," &c. The latter portion of the play shows this to be a double corruption, and the participle is "unscissar'd" in Wilkins' novel. The old words, "Though I show will in't," may mean "Though I show