 | Pericles |  |
Act 2
Scene 1
Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.
Enter PERICLES, wet
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
way!
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
net.
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.
Exeunt
Scene 2
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
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.
Exeunt
Great shouts within and all cry 'The mean knight!'
Scene 3
The same. A hall of state: a banquet prepared.
Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, Attendants, and Knights, from tilting
Knights,
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.
SIMONIDES
How!
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.
To PERICLES
But you the best. Pages and lights, to conduct
These knights unto their several lodgings!
To PERICLES
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.
Exeunt
Scene 4
Tyre. A room in the Governor's house.
Enter HELICANUS and ESCANES
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.
Exeunt
Scene 5
Pentapolis. A room in the palace.
Enter SIMONIDES, reading a letter, at one door: the Knights meet him
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
SIMONIDES
So,
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.
Enter PERICLES
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.
PERICLES
Traitor!
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.
SIMONIDES
No?
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?
Aside
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?
Aside
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.
Exeunt
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.
DUMB SHOW.
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.
Exit
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.
Exit LYCHORIDA
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.
Exeunt
Scene 2
Ephesus. A room in CERIMON's house.
Enter CERIMON, with a Servant, and some Persons who have been shipwrecked
Philemon, ho!
Enter PHILEMON
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.
To PHILEMON
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.
Gentlemen.
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 3
Tarsus. A room in CLEON's house.
Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, and LYCHORIDA with MARINA in her arms
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.
Exeunt
Scene 4
Ephesus. A room in CERIMON's house.
Enter CERIMON and THAISA
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.
Exeunt
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.
Exit
| Pericles | |