Per.
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 Seas hath cast me on the Rocks,
Washt me from shore to shore, and left my breath
Nothing to think on, but ensuing death:
Let it suffice the greatnesse of your powers,
To have bereft a Prince of all his fortunes,
And having thrown him from your watry grave,
Here to have death in peace, is all he'll crave. Enter three Fishermen.

1.
What, to pelch?

2.
Ha, come and bring away the Nets.

1.
What patch-breech, I say.

3.
What say you, Master?

1.
Look how thou stirrest now.
Come away, or I'le fetch thee with a wannion.

3.
Faith Master, I am thinking of the poor men
That were cast away before us, even now.

1.
Alas poor souls, it grieved my heart to hear
What pittifull cries they made to us, to help them,
When (welladay) we could scarcely help our selves.

3.
Nay Master, said not I as much,
When I saw the Porpas how he bounst and tumbled?
They say, they are half fish, half flesh:
A plague on them, they ne're come but I look to be washt.
Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the Sea?

1.
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; he plaies and tumbles,
Driving the poor Fry before him,
And at last devour them all at a mouthfull.
Such Whales have I heard on a'th land,
Who never leave gaping, till they swallowed
The whole Parish, Church, Steeple, Bells and all.

Per.
A pretty Moral.

3.
But Master, if I had been the Sexton,
I would have been that day in the Belfrey.

2.
Why man?

3.
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,

Per.
Simonides?

3.
We would purge the Land of these Drones,
That rob the Bee of her honny.

Per.
How from the fenny subject of the sea
These fishers tell the infirmities of men,
And from their watry Empire recollect,
All that may men approve, or men detect.
Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.

2.
Honest, good fellow, what's that, if it be a day fits you,
Search out of the Kalender, and no body look after it?

Per.
Y'may see the sea hath cast me upon your coast.

2.
What a drunken knave was the sea,
To cast thee in our way.

Per.
A man whom both the waters and the wind,
In that vast Tennis-Court, hath made the Ball
For them to play upon, intreats you pitty him:
He asks of you, that never us'd to beg.

1.
No friend, cannot you beg?
Here's them in our Country of Greece,
Gets more with begging, then we can do with working.

2.
Canst thou catch any Fishes then?

Per.
I never practis'd it.

2.

Nay then thou wilt starve sure; for here's nothing to be got now-a-daies, unlesse thou canst fish for't.

Per.
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, then 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.

1.

Die ke-tha, now gods forbid, I have a gown here, come put it on, keep thee warme: now afore me a handsome fellow: Come, thou shalt go home, and we'll have flesh for all day, fish for fasting dayes and more; or Puddings and Flap-jacks, and thou shalt be welcome.

Per.
I thank you, sir.

2.
Hark you, my friend, You said you could not beg.

Per.
I did but crave.

2.
But crave? then I'le turn craver too,
And so I shall scape whipping.

Per.
Why, are all your beggers whipt then?

3.

Oh not all, my friend, not all: for if all your beggers were whipt. I would wish no better office, then to be Beadle. But Master, I'le go draw the Net.

Per.
How well this honest mirth becomes their labour?

1.
Hark you, sir, do you know where ye are?

Per.
Not well.

1.
I tell you, this is called Pantapolis,
And our King, the good Symonides.

Per.
The good King Symonides, do you call him:

1.
I sir, and he deserves so to be call'd,
For his peaceable reigne, and good government.

Per.
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?

1.

Marry, sir, half a daies journey: and I'le 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 Turney for her love.

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

2.
O sir, things must be as they may: and what a man
Cannot get, he may lawfully deal for his wives soul. Enter the two Fisher-men, drawing up a Net.

2.

Help, Master, help, here's a fish hangs in the Net, like a poor mans right in the law, 'twill hardly come out. Ha bots on't, 'tis come at last, and 'tis turned to a rusty Armor.

Per.
An Armor, friends, I pray you let me see it.
Thanks Fortune, yet that after all crosses,
Thou givest me somewhat to repair my self:
And though it was mine own part of mine 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 Brayse:
For that it saved me; keep it in like necessity:
The which the gods protect thee, Fame may defend thee.
It kept where I kept, I so dearly loved it,
Till the rough Seas (that spares not any man)
Took it in rage, though calm'd hath given't again:
I thank thee for't, my shipwrack now's no ill,
Since I have here my fathers gift in's will.

1.
What mean you, sir?

Per.
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'd guide me to your Soveraigns Court,
Where with it I may appear a Gentleman:
And if that ever my low fortune's better,
I'le pay your bounties; till then rest your debter.

1.
Why, wilt thou turney for the Lady?

Per.
I'le shew the vertue I have born in Armes.

1.
Why take it, and the gods give thee good an't.

2.

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 them.

Per.
Believe it I will:
By your furtherance I am cloathed in Steel,
And spight of all the rupture of the sea,
This Jewell holds his building on my arme:
Unto thy value I will mount my self.
Upon a Courser, whose delightfull steps,
Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread;
Only (my friend) I yet am unprovided of a payre of Bases.

2.
We'll sure provide, thou shalt have
My best gown to make thee a pair;
And I'le bring thee to the Court my self.

Per.
Then honour be but a Goal to my will,
This day I'le rise, or else adde ill to ill.

Enter Simonides with attendants, and Thaisa.
Are the Knights ready to begin the Triumph?

1. Lord.
They are, my Liege, and stay your comming,
To present themselves.

King.
Return them; we are ready, and our Daughter here,
In honour of whose birth. these triumphs are,
Sits here like beauties child, whom Nature gat,
For men to see, and seeing wonder at.

Thai.
It pleaseth you (my royall father) to expresse
My commendations great, whose merit's lesse.

King.
It's fit it should be so; for Princes are
A modell which heaven makes like it self:
As Jewels lose their glory, if neglected,
So Princes their Renownes, if not respected.
'Tis now your honour (Daughter) to entertain
The labour of each Knight, in his device.

Thai.
Which to preserve mine honour, I'le perform. The first Knight passes by.

King.
Who is the first, that doth preferre himself?

Thai.
A Knight of Sparta (my renowned Father)
And the device he beares upon his shield,
Is a black Æthiope reaching at the Sun;
The word; Lux tua vita mihi.

King.
He loves you well, that holds his life of you. The second Knight.
Who is the second, that presents himself?

Tha.
A Prince of Macedon (my royall Father)
And the device he beares upon his Shield,
Is an armed Knight, that's conquer'd by a Lady.
The Motto thus in Spanish. Pue Per doleera kee per forsa. The third Knight.

King.
And what's the third?

Thai.
The third of Antioch; and his device
A wreathe of Chivalry: the word, Me Pompey provexit apex. The fourth Knight.

King.
What is the fourth?

Thai.
A burning Torch that's turn'd upside down;
The word, Qui me alit me extinguit.

King.
Which shewes that beauty hath his power and will,
Which can as well enflame, as it can kill. The fifth Knight.

Thai.
The fifth, an hand environed with clouds,
Holding out gold, that's by the touch-stone tri'd:
The Motto thus: Sic spectanda fides. The sixth Knight.

King.

And what's the sixth and last, the which the Knight himself with such a gracefull courtesie deliverd?

Thai.
He seems to be a stranger: but his Present is
A withered Branch, that's onely green at top;
The Motto, In hac spe vivo.

King.

A pretty morall; from the dejected state wherein he is, he hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish.

1. Lord.

He had need mean better then his outward shew can any way speak in his just commend: For by his rusty out-side, he appeares to have practised more the Whipstock, then the Lance.

2. Lord.

He well may be a stranger, for he comes to an honour'd triumph strangely furnisht.

3. Lord.
And on set purpose let his armour rust
Untill this day, to scowre it in the dust.

King.
Opinion's but a foole, that make us scan
The outward habit by the inward man.
But stay, the Knights are comming,
We will withdraw into the Gallery. Great shouts, and all cry, the mean Knight. Enter the King and Knights from Tilting.

King.
Knights, to say you're welcome, were superfluous.
T'place upon the volume of your deeds,
As in a Title page, your worth in armes,
Were more then you expect, or more then's fit,
Since every worth in shew commends it self:
Prepare for mirth, for mirth comes at a feast.
You are Princes, and my guests.

Thai.
But you, my Knight and guest,
To whom this wreathe of victory I give,
And Crown you King of this dayes happinesse.

Per.
'Tis more by fortune (Lady) then by merit.

King.
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 her labour'd Schollar: come, Queen oth' Feast,
For (Daughter) so you are, here take your place:
Martiall the rest, as they deserve their grace.

Knights.
We are honoured much by good Symonides.

King.
Your presence glads our dayes, honour we love,
For who hates honour, hates the gods above.

Marsh.
Sir, yonder is your place.

Per.
Some other is more fit.

1. Knight.
Contend not, sir, for we are Gentlemen,
That neither in our hearts, nor outward eyes,
Envy the great, nor doe the low despise.

Per.
You are right courteous Knights.

King.
Sit, sit, sit.
  By Jove (I wonder) that is King of thoughts,
These Cates resist me, he not thought upon.

Thai.
By Juno (that is Queen of Marriage)
All Viands that I eat doe seem unsavoury,
Wishing him my meat: sure he's a gallant Gentleman.

King.
He's but a country gentleman: has done no more
Then other Knights have done, has broken a staffe,
Or so; let it passe.

Thai.
To me he seems a Diamond to Glasse.

Per.
Yon King's to me, like to my Father's picture,
Which tells me in that glory once he was,
And Princes sat like starres about his Throne,
And he the Sun, for them to reverence;
None that beheld him, but like lesser lights,
Did vaile their Crowns to his supreamacy;
Where now his Son, like a Glo-worm in the night,
The which hath fire in darknesse none in light:
Whereby I see that Time's the King of men,
For he's their Parents, and he is their grave,
And gives them what he will, not what they crave.

King.
What, are you merry, Knights?

Knights.
Who can be other in this royall presence?

King.
Here, with a cup that's stirr'd unto the brimme,
As you doe love, fill to your Mistresse lips,
We drink this health to you.

Knights.
We thank your Grace.

King.
Yet pawse a while; yon Knight doth sit too melancholly,
As if the entertainment in our Court,
Had not a shew might countervaile his worth:
Note it not you, Thaisa;

Thai.
What is't to me, my Father?

King.
O, attend, my Daughter,
Princes in this, should live like gods above,
Who freely give to every one that come to honour them:
And Princes not doing so, are like to Gnats,
Which make a sound, but kill'd, are wondred at:
Therefore to make his entrance now more sweet,

Here, say we drink this standing bowle of wine to him.

Thai.
Alasse, 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 womens gifts for impudence.

King.
How? doe as I bid you, or you'll move me else.

Thai.
Now by the gods, he could not please me better.

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

Thai.
The King my Father (sir) hath drunk to you.

Per.
I thank him.

Thai.
Wishing it so much blood unto your life.

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

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

Per.
A Gentleman of Tyre, my name Pericles,
My education been in Arts and Armes.
Who looking for adventures in the world,
Was by the rough Seas reft of ships and men,
And after ship-wrack, driven upon this shore.

Thai.
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 the shore.

King.
Now by the gods, I pitty his misfortune,
And will awake him from his melancholly.
Come, Gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles,
And waste the time, which looks for other revels.
Even in your armours as you are addrest,
Will very well become a Souldiers dance:
I will not have excuse, with saying that
Loud Musick is too harsh for Ladies heads,
Since they love men in Armes, as well as beds. They Dance.
So, this was well ask'd, 'twas well perform'd,
Come, sir, here's 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.

Per.
In those that practise them, they are (my Lord.)

King.
Oh that's as much, as you would be deny'd
Of your fair courtesie: unclaspe, unclaspe. They Dance.
Thanks, Gentlemen, to all; all have done well,
But you the best: Pages and lights, to conduct
These Knights unto their severall Lodgings:
Yours, sir, we have given order to be next our own.

Per.
I am at your Graces pleasure.

King.
Princes, it is too late to talk of love,
And that's the marke I know you levell at:
Therefore each one betake him to his rest,
To morrow, all for speeding doe their best. Enter Hellicanus, and Escanes.

Hell.
No, Escanes, know this of me,
Antiochus from incest liv'd not free:
For which, the most high gods not minding
Longer to with-hold the vengeance that
They had in store, due to his hainous
Capitall 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 shrivel'd
Up those bodies, even to loathing, for they so stunk,
That all those eyes ador'd them, ere their fall,
Scorn now their hand should give them buriall.

Escanes.
It was very strange.

Hell.
And yet but justice; for though this King were great,
His greatnesse was no guard to barre heavens shaft.
By sin had his reward.

Escan.
'Tis very true. Enter two or three Lords.

1. Lord.
See, not a man in private conference,
Or counsell, hath respect with him but he.

2. Lord.
It shall no longer grieve without reproof.

3. Lord.
And curst be he that will not second it.

1. Lord.
Follow me then: Lord Hellicane, a word.

Hell.
With me? and welcome, happy day, my Lords.

1. Lord.
Know that our griefs are risen to the top,
And now at length they over-flow their banks.

Hell.
Your griefs, for what?
Wrong not your Prince you love.

1. Lord.
Wrong not your self then, noble Hellican,
But if the Prince doe 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 resolv'd, he lives to govern us:
Or dead, give's cause to mourn his Funerall,
And leave us to our free Election.

2. Lor.
Whose death indeed, the strongest in our censure,
And knowing this Kingdome is without a head,
Like goodly buildings left without a Roof,
Soon fall to ruine: your noble self,
That best knowes how to rule, and how to reign.
We thus submit unto our Soveraign.

Omnes.
Live, noble Hellican.

Hell.
Try honours cause; forbear your suffrages:
If that you love Prince Pericles, forbear,
(Take I your wish, I leap into the Seas,
Where's hourely trouble, for a minutes ease)
A twelve-moneth longer, let me entreat you
To forbear the absence of your King;
If in which time expir'd, he not return,
I shall with aged patience bear your yoke.
But if I cannot win you to this love,
Go search like Nobles, like noble Subjects,
And in your search, spend your adventurous worth,
Whom if you finde, and winne unto return,
You shall like Diamonds sit about his Crown.

1. Lord.
To wisedome, he's a foole that will not yield,
And since Lord Hellican enjoyneth us,
We with our travels will endeavour.

Hell.
Then you love us, we you, and we'll clasp hands,
When Peeres thus knit, a Kingdome ever stands. Exit. Enter the King reading of a Letter, at one door, and the Knights meet him.

1. Knight.
Good morrow to the good Simonides.

King.
Knights, from my Daughter this I let you know,
That for this twelve-moneth, she'll not undertake
A married life: her reason to her self is onely known,
Which yet from her by no meanes can I get.

2. Knight.
May we not get accesse to her (my Lord)

King.
Faith, by no meanes, she hath so strictly
Ti'd her to her Chamber, that 'tis impossible:
One twelve Moons more she'll wear Dianaes livery:
This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vowed,
And on her Virgin honour will not break.

3. Knig.
Loth to bid farewell, we take our leaves. Exit.

King.
So, they are well dispatcht,
Now to my daughters Letter; she tells me here,
She'll wed the stranger Knight,
Or never more to view nor day nor light.
'Tis well, Mistris, your choyce agrees with mine,

I like that well: nay how absolute she's in't,
Not minding whether I dislike or no.
Well, I doe commend her choyce, and will no longer
Have it be delayed: soft, here he comes,
I must dissemble it. Enter Pericles.

Per.
All fortune to the good Simonides.

King.
To you as much: Sir, I am beholding to you,
For your sweet musick this last night:
I doe protest, my eares were never better fed
With such delightfull pleasing harmony.

Per.
It is your Graces pleasure to commend,
Not my desert.

King.
Sir, you are Musicks master.

Per.
The worst of all her Schollars (my good Lord)

King.
Let me aske you one thing.
What doe you think of my Daughter, sir?

Per.
A most virtuous Princesse.

King.
And she's fair too, is she not?

Per.
As a fair day in Summer: wondrous fair.

King.
Sir, my Daughter thinks very well of you,
I, so well, that you must be her Master,
And she will be your Schollar; therefore look to it.

Per.
I am unworthy to be her Schoolmaster.

King.
She thinks not so, peruse this writing else.

Per.
What's here, a Letter, that she loves the Knight of Tyre?
'Tis the King's subtilty to have my life:
Oh seek not to intrap 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.

King.
Thou hast bewitcht my Daughter,
And thou art a Villain.

Per.
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.

King.
Traitor, thou lyest.

Per.
Traitor!

King.
I, Traitor.

Per.
Even in his throat, unlesse it be a King,
That calls me Traitor, I return the lye.

King.
Now by the gods I doe applaud his courage.

Per.
My actions are as noble as my thoughts,
That never rellisht of a base descent:
I came unto the Court for honours cause,
And not be a Rebel to her state:
And he that otherwise accounts of me,
This Sword shall prove, he's honours enemy.

King.
No? here comes my Daughter, she can witness it. Enter Thaisa.

Per.
Then as you are as virtuous, as fair,
Resolve your angry Father, if my tongue
Did e're solicite, or my hand subscribe
To any syllable that made love to you?

Thai.
Why, sir, if you had, who takes offence,
At that would make me glad?

King.
Yea, mistris, are you so peremptory?
I am glad of it withall my heart, Aside.
I'le tame you, I'le bring you in subjection.
Will you, not having my consent,
Bestow your love and your affections,
Upon a stranger? who, for ought I know, Aside.
May be (nor can I think the contrary)
As great in blood as I my self.
Therefore hear you, Mistresse, either frame
Your will to mine; and you, sir, hear you,
Either be rul'd by me, or I'le make you—
Man and Wife; nay, come your hands
And lips must seale it too: and being joyn'd,
I'le thus your hopes destroy, and for further grief,
God give you joy; what, are you both pleased?

Thai.
Yes, if you love me, sir.

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

King.
What, are you both agreed?

Amb.
Yes, if it please your Majesty.

King.
It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you wed,
And then with what haste you can, get you to bed. Enter Gower.
Now ysleep slaked hath the rout,
No din but snores about the house.
Made louder by the ore-fee beast,
Of this most pompous marriage feast:
The Cat with eyne of burning coale,
Now couches from the Mouses hole;
And Cricket sing at the Ovens mouth,
Are the blither for their drouth:
Hymen hath brought the Bride to bed,
Where by the losse of Maiden-head,
A Babe is moulded, by attent,
And time that is so briefly spent,
With your fine fancies quaintly each,
What's dumbe in shew, I'le plain with speech. Enter Pericles and Simonides at one door with attendants, a Messenger meets them, kneeles, and gives Pericles a Letter, Pericles shewes it Simonides, the Lords kneele to him; then enter Thaisa with childe, with Lychorida a Nurse, the King shewes her the Letter, she rejoyces: she and Pericles take leave of her Father, and depart.
By many a dearne and painfull pearch
Of Pericles, the carefull search,
By the four opposing Crignes,
Which the world together joynes,
Is made with all due diligence,
That horse and saile, and high expence,
Can steed the quest at last from Tyre,
Fame answering the most strange enquire,
To th' Court of King Simonides,
Are Letters brought, the tenour these:
Antiochus and his Daughter's dead,
The men of Tyrus, on the head
Of Hellicanus would set on
The Crown of Tyre, but he will none:
The mutiny, he there hastes t' oppresse,
Sayes to them, if King Pericles
Come not home in twice six Moones,
He, obedient to their doomes,
Will take the Crown: the summe of this
Brought hither to Pentapolis,
Irony shed the Regions round,
And every one with claps can sound,
Our heir apparant is a King:
Who dreamt? who thought of such a thing?
Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre,
His Queen with child, makes her desire,
Which who shall crosse along to go,
Omit we all their dole and woe:
Lychorida her Nurse she takes,
And so to Sea; then vessell shakes,

On Neptunes billow, half the flood,
Hath their Keele cut: but fortune mov'd
Varies again, the grisly North
Disgorges such a tempest forth,
That as a Duck for life that drives,
So up and down the poor ship dives:
The Lady shreeks, and well-a-near,
Doth fall in travell with her fear:
And what ensues in this self storme,
Shall for it self, it self 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 Seas tost Pericles, appeares to speak. Enter Pericles on Shipboard.

Per.
The God of this great vast, rebuke these surges
Which wash both heaven and hell, and thou that hast
Upon the windes command, bind them in Brasse,
Having call'd them from the deep, O still
Thy dearning dreadfull thunders; daily quench
Thy nimble sulpherous flashes: O how, Lychorida?
How does my Queen? then storm venomously,
Wilt thou spet all thy self? the Seamans whistle
Is a whisper in the eares of death,
Unheard Lychorida? Lucina, oh!
Divinest Patronesse, and my Wife, gentle
To those that cry by night, convey thy Deity
Aboard our dancing Boat, make swift the pangs
Of my Queens travels. Now, Lychorida. Enter Lychorida.

Lychor.
Here is a thing too young for such a place,
Who if it had conceit, would dye, as I am like to doe:
Take in your armes this piece of your dead Queen.

Per.
How? how, Lychorida?

Lychor.
Patience, good sir, doe not assist the storme,
Here's all that is left living of our Queen;
A little Daughter, for the sake of it
Be manly, and take comfort.

Per.
Oh you gods!
Why doe you make us love your goodly gifts,
And snatch them straight away?
We here below, recall not what we give,
And we therein may use honour with you.

Lychor.
Patience, good sir, even for this charge.

Per.
Now milde may be thy life,
For a more blusterous birth had never Babe:
Quiet and gentle thy conditions;
For thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world,
That ever was Princes Childe: happy that followes,
Thou hast as chiding a Nativity,
As Fire, Aire, Water, Earth, and Heaven can make,
To harold thee from the wombe:
Even at the first, thy losse is more then can
Thy portage quite, with all thou canst finde here:
Now the good gods throw their best eyes upon it. Enter two Saylors.

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

Per.
Courage enough, I doe not fear the flaw,
It hath done to me the worst: yet for the love
Of this poor Infant, this fresh new Sea-farer,
I would it would be quiet.

1. Sayl.
Slack the bolins there; thou wilt not, with thou?
Blow and split thy self.

2. Sayl.

But Sea-room, and the brine and cloudy billow kisse the Moon, I care not.

1. Sayl.
Sir, your Queen must over-board,
The Sea works high, the winde is loud,
And will not lie till the Ship be cleared of the dead.

Per.
That's your superstition.

1.
Pardon us, sir; with us at Sea it still hath bin observed,
And we are strong in Eastern, therefore briefly yield her.

Per.
As you think meet, for she must o're-board straight,
Most wretched Queen.

Lychor.
Here she lies, sir.

Per.
A terrible Child-bed hast thou had (my Dear)
No light, no fire, the unfriendly Elements
Forgot thee utterly, nor have I time
To bring thee hallowed to thy grave, but straight
Must cast thee scarcely Coffind, in oare,
Where for a Monument upon thy bones.
The ayre remaining lamps, the belching Whale,
And humming water must o'rewhelme thy Corps,
Lying with simple shells: Oh Lychorida,
Bid Nestor bring me Spices, Ink and Paper,
My Casket and my Jewels, and bid Nicander
Bring me the Sattin Coffin; lay the Babe
Upon the Pillow; hie thee, whiles I say
A Priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.

2. Sayl.
Sir, we have a Chest beneath the hatches,
Caulkt and bittumed ready.

Per.
I thank thee: Marriner say, what Coast is this?

2. Sayl.
We are near Tharsus.

Per.
Thither, gentle Marriner,
Alter thy course for Tyre: when canst thou reach it?

2. Sayl.
By break of day, if the winde cease.

Per.
O make for Tharsus,
There will I visit Cleon, for the Babe
Cannot hold out to Tyrus; there I'le leave it
At carefull nursing: go thy wayes, good Marriner,
I'le bring the body presently. Exit. Enter Lord Cerymon with a Servant.

Cer.
Phylemon, hoa. Enter Philemon.

Phil.
Doth my Lord call?

Cer.
Get fire and meat for these poor men,
It hath been a turbulent and stormy night.

Ser.
I have been in many: but such a night as this,
Till now, I ne're endured.

Cer.
Your Master will be dead ere you return,
There's nothing can be ministred to nature,
That can recover him: give this to the Pothecary,
And tell me how it works. Enter two Gentlemen.

1. Gent.
Good morrow.

2. Gent.
Good morrow to your Lordship.

Cer.
Gentlemen, why doe you stirre so early?

1. Gent.
Sir, our lodgings standing bleak upon the Sea,
Shook as if the earth did quake:
The very principles did seem to rend and all to topple,
Pure surprize and fear made me to leave the house.

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

Cer.
O you say well.

1. Gent.
But I much marvell that your Lordship
Having rich attire about you, should at these early houres
Shake off the golden slumber of repose; 'tis most strange,
Nature should be so conversant with pain,
Being thereto not compelled.

Cer.
I hold it ever Virtue and Cunning.

Were endowments greater, then Nobleness and Riches,
Careless heirs may the two latter darken and expend;
But immortality attends the former,
Making a Man a God;
'Tis known, I ever have studied Physick,
Through which secret Art, by turning o're Authority,
I have together with my practise, made familiar
To me and to my aide, the best infusions that dwells
In vegetives, in Mettals, 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
Then to be thirsty after tottering Honour,
Or tye my pleasure up in silken Bags,
To please the Fool and Death.

2. Gent.
Your honour hath through Ephesus,
Poured forth your charity, and hundred call themselves
Your Creatures; who by you have been restored,
And not your knowledge, your personall pain,
But even your purse still open, hath built Lord Cerimon
Such strong renown, as never shall decay. Enter two or three with a Chest.

Ser.
So, lift there.

Cer.
What's that?

Ser.
Sir, even now did the Sea, tosse up upon our shore
This Chest; 'tis of some wrack.

Cer.
Set it down, let us look upon it.

2. Gent.
'Tis like a Coffin, sir.

Cer.
What e're it be, 'tis wondrous heavy;
Wrench it open straight:
If the Seas stomack be o're-charg'd with gold,
'Tis a good constraint of Fortune it belches upon us.

2. Gent.
'Tis so, my Lord.

Cer.
How close 'tis caulkt and bottom'd, did the sea cast it up?

Ser.
I never saw so huge a billow, sir, as tost it upon shore.

Cer.
Wrench it open; it smells most sweetly in my sence.

2. Gent.
A delicate Odour.

Cer.
As ever hit my nostrill: so, up with it.
Oh you most potent gods! what's here, a Coarse?

1. Gent.
Most strange.

Cer.
Shrowded in cloth of state, balm'd and entreasured
With full bags of Spices, a Pasport to Apollo,
Perfect me in the Characters.

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 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 a fire within, fetch hither all my boxes in my Closet,
Death may usurpe on Nature many houres,
And yet the fire of life kindle again the o're-prest spirits.
I heard of an Ægyptian that had nine houres been dead,
Who was by good appliance recovered. Enter one with Napkins and Fire.
Well said, well said, the fire and cloathes,
The rough and wofull musick that we have,
Cause it to sound I beseech you:
The Viall once more; how thou stirrest, thou block?
The Musick there: I pray you give her aire;
Gentlemen, this Queen will live,
Nature awakes a warme breath out of her;
She hath not been entranst above five houres,
See how she gins to blow into lifes flower again.

1. Gen.
The heavens through you, encrease our wonder,
And sets up your fame for ever.

Cer.
She is alive, behold her eye-lids,
Cases to those heavenly jewels which Pericles hath lost,
Begin to part their fringes of bright gold
The Diamonds of a most praised water doth 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.

Thai.
O dear Diana, where am I? where's my Lord?
What world is this?

2. Gent.
Is not this strange?

1. Gent.
Most rare.

Cer.
Hush (my gentle neighbour) lend me your hands,
To the next chamber bear her, get linnen;
Now this matter must be lookt too, for the relapse
Is mortall: come, come, and, Esculapius, guide us. They carry her away. Exeunt omnes.

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