Hell.
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.

Thal.
How, the King gone?

Hell.
If further yet you will be satisfied,
Why (as it were unlicens'd of your loves)
He would depart? I'll give some light unto you.
Being at Antioch—

Thal.
What from Antioch?

Hell.
Royal Antiochus (on what cause I know not)
Took some displeasure at him, at least he judg'd so:
And doubting that he had erred or sinned,
To shew his sorrow, he would correct himself;
So puts himself unto the Shipman's toyl,
With whom each minute threatens Life or Death.

Thal.

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 'scap'd the Land, to perish at the Sea: I'll present my self. Peace to the Lords of Tyre.

Hell.
Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.

Thal.
From him I come
With Message unto Princely Pericles;
But since my Landing I have understood,

Your Lord hath betook himself to unknown Travels,
My Message must return from whence it came.

Hell.
We have no reason to desire it,
Commended to our Master, not to us;
Yet e'er you shall depart, this we desire,
As Friends to Antioch, we may Feast in Tyre. [Exeunt. Enter Cleon the Governor of Tharsus, with Dionysia and others.

Cle.
My Dionysia, shall we rest us here,
And by relating Tales of others Griefs,
See if 'twill teach us to forget our own?

Dio.
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 Mischiefs Eyes,
But like to Groves, being topt, they higher rise.

Cle.
O Dionysia,
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 to weep,
'Till Tongues fetch Breath that may proclaim
Them louder, that if Heav'n slumber, while
Their Creatures want, they may awake
Their helpers to comfort them.
I'll then discourse our Woes felt several Years,
And wanting Breath to speak, help me with Tears.

Dio.
I'll do my best, Sir.

Cle.
This Tharsus, o'er which I've the Government,
A City, on whom Plenty held full Hand,
For Riches strew'd her self even in the Streets,
Whose Towers bore heads so high, they kist the Clouds,
And Strangers ne'er beheld, but wonder'd at;
Whose Men and Dames so jetted and adorn'd,
Like one anothers Glass to trim them by;
Their Tables were stor'd 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.

Dio.
Oh 'tis true.

Cle.
But see what Heav'n 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 defil'd for want of use,
They are now starv'd for want of Exercise;
Those Pallats, who, not yet to savers younger,
Must have Inventions to delight the Taste,
Would now be glad of Bread, and beg for it;
These Mothers who to nouzle up their Babes,
Thought nought too curious, are ready now,
To eat those little Darlings whom they lov'd,
So sharp are hungers Teeth, that Man and Wife,
Draw Lots who first shall dye 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?

Dio.
Our Cheeks and hollow Eyes do witness it.

Cle.
O let those Cities that of Plenty's Cup,
And her Prosperities so largely tast,
With their superfluous Riots hear these Tears;
The Misery of Tharsus may be theirs. Enter a Lord.

Lord.

Where's the Lord Governor?

Cle.

Here, 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.

Cle.
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,
That stuft the hollow Vessels with their Pow'r,
To beat us down, the which are down already,
And make a Conquest of unhappy me,
Whereas no Glory is got to overcome.

Lord.
That's the least Fear.
For by the semblance of their Flags displaid,

They bring us Peace, and come to us as Favourers,
Not as Foes.

Cle.
Thou speak'st like Hymns untutor'd to repeat,
Who makes the fairest Shew, 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.

Cle.
Welcome is Peace, if he on Peace consist;
If Wars, we are unable to resist. Enter Pericles with Attendants.

Per.
Lord Governor, for so we hear you are,
Let not our Ships and number of our Men,
Be like a Beacon fir'd, to amaze your Eyes,
We've 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 release them of their heavy load,
And these our Ships, you happily may think
Are like the Trojan Horse, was stuft within,
With bloody Veins expecting overthrow,
Are stor'd with Corn to make your needy Bread,
And give them Life, whom hunger starv'd half dead.

Omnes.
The Gods of Greece protect you,
And we'll pray for you.

Per.
Arise, I pray you, arise;
We do not look for Reverence, but for Love,
And harbourage for our self, our Ships, and Men.

Cle.
The which when any shall not gratifie,
Or pay you with Unthankfulness in Thought,
Be it our Wives, our Children, or our selves,
The Curse of Heav'n 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.

Per.
Which welcome we'll accept, Feast here a while,
Until our Stars that frown, lend us a Smile. [Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I. Enter Gower. Gow.
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 past Necessity:
I'll shew you those in Troubles Reign,
Losing a Mite, a Mountain gain:
The Good in Conversation,
To whom I give my Benizon,
Is still at Tharsus, where each Man
Thinks all is writ he spoken can:
And to remember what he does,
Build his Statue to make him glorious:
But Tydings to the contrary,
Are brought t' your Eyes, what need speak I. Dumb Show. 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 shews the Letter to Cleon, Pericles gives the Messenger a Reward, and Knights him. [Exit Pericles at one Door, and Cleon at another.
Good Hellican that staid 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's Desire,
Sav'd one of all that haps in Tyre:
How Thaliard came full bent with Sin,
And had intent to murther him;
And that in Tharsus was not best,
Longer for him to make his rest:
He doing so, put forth to Seas,
Where when Men bin, there's seldom Ease,

For now the Wind begins to blow,
Thunder above, and Deeps below,
Makes such unquiet, that the Ship
Should House him safe, is wrackt and split.
And he, good Prince, having all lost,
By Waves, from Coast to Coast is tost:
All Perishen of Man, of Pelf,
No ought escapen'd but himself;
'Till Fortune tir'd with doing bad,
Threw him ashore to give him glad:
And here he comes; what shall be next,
Pardon old Gower, thus long's the Text. Enter Pericles wet.

Per.
Yet cease your Ire, you angry Stars of Heav'n,
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 greatness 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 Fish.
What, to pelch?

2 Fish.
Ha, come and bring away the Nets.

1 Fish.
What patch Breech, I say.

3 Fish.
What say you, Master?

1 Fish.
Look how thou stirrest now.
Come away, or I'll fetch thee with a Wannion.

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

1 Fish.
Alas, poor Souls, it griev'd my Heart to hear
What pitiful Cries they made to us, to help them,
When, well-a-day, we could scarcely help our selves.

3 Fish.
Nay, Master, said not I as much,
When I saw the Porpus how he bounc'd and tumbled?
They say, they are half Fish, half Flesh;
A Plague on them, they ne'er come but I look to be washt.

Master, I marvel how the Fishes live in the Sea?

1. Fish.
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 plays and tumbles,
Driving the poor Fry before him,
And at last devours them all at a Mouthful.
Such Whales have I heard on a'th Land,
Who never leave gaping, 'till they swallow'd
The whole Parish, Church, Steeple, Bells and all.

Per.
A pretty Moral.

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

2 Fish.
Why, Man?

3 Fish.
Because he should have swallow'd 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 Symonides were of my mind,

Per.
Symonides?

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

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 Fish.
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 Fish.
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 pity him:
He asks of you, that never us'd to beg.

1 Fish.
No, Friend, cannot you beg?
Here's them in our Country of Greece,
Get more with Begging, than we can do with Working.

2 Fish.

Canst thou catch any Fishes then?

Per.

I never practis'd it.

2 Fish.

Nay, then thou wilt starve sure; for here's nothing to be got now-a-days, unless 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, 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.

1 Fish.

Die ko-tha, 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 all Day, Fish for fasting Days and more; or Puddings and Flap-jacks, and thou shalt be welcome.

Per.

I thank you, Sir.

2 Fish.
Hark you, my Friend, you said you could not beg.

Per.

I did but crave.

2 Fish.
But crave? then I'll turn Craver too,
And so I shall scape whipping.

Per.
Why, are all your Beggars whipt then?

2 Fish.

Oh not all, my Friend, not all; for if all your Beggars were whipt, I would wish no better Office, than to be Beadle. But, Master, I'll go draw the Net.

Per.
How well this honest Mirth becomes their Labour?

1 Fish.
Hark you, Sir, do you know where ye are?

Per.

Not well.

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

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

1 Fish.
Ay, Sir, and he deserves so to be call'd,
For his peaceable Reign, 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 Fish.

Marry, Sir, half a Day's Journey; and I'll tell you, he hath a fair Daughter, and to morrow is her Birthday, 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 Fish.

Oh Sir, things must be as they may; and what a Man cannot get, he may lawfully deal for his Wife's Soul.

2 Fish.

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 Armor.

Per.
An Armor, Friends! I pray you let me see it.
Thanks, Fortune, yet that after all Crosses,
Thou giv'st 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 sav'd me; keep it in like necessity;
The which the Gods protect thee, Fame may defend thee.
It kept where I kept, I so dearly lov'd 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 Father's Gift in's Will.

1 Fish.
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 lov'd me dearly,
And for his sake, I wish the having of it;
And that you'd guide me to your Soveraign'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.

1 Fish.
Why, wilt thou turney for the Lady?

Per.
I'll shew the vertue I have born in Arms.

1 Fish.
Why, take it, and the Gods give thee good on't.

2 Fish.

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 cloath'd in Steel,
And spight of all the rupture of the Sea,

This Jewel holds his building on my Arm;
Unto thy value I will mount my self
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.

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

Per.
Then Honour be but a Goal to my Will,
This Day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill. [Exeunt. Enter Symonides with Attendants, and Thaisa.

King.
Are the Knights ready to begin the Triumph?

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

King.
Return them; we are ready, and our Daughter here,
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.

Thai.
It pleaseth you, my royal Father, to express
My Commendations great, whose Merit's less.

King.
It's fit it should be so; for Princes are
A Model which Heav'n makes like it self:
As Jewels lose their Glory, if neglected,
So Princes their Renowns, 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'll perform. [The first Knight passes by.

King.
Who is the first that doth prefer himself?

Thai.
A Knight of Sparta, my renowned Father,
And the Device he bears upon his Shield,
Is a black Æthiop 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?

Thai.
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, Pue Per doleera kee per forsa. [The third Knight.

King.
And what's the third?

Thai.
The third of Antioch; and his Device
A wreath of Chivalry; the word, Me Pompey provexit apex. [The fourth Knight.

King.
What is the Fourth?

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

King.
Which shews 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 try'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 graceful Courtesie deliver'd?

Thai.
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.

King.
A pretty Moral;
From the dejected State wherein he is,
He hopes by you his Fortunes yet may flourish.

1 Lord.
He had need mean better than his outward Shew
Can any way speak in his just commend:
For, by his rusty outside, he appears
To 'ave practis'd more the Whipstock than the Lance.

2 Lord.
He well may be a Stranger, for he comes
To an honour'd Triumph strangely furnish'd.

3 Lord.
And on set purpose let his Armour rust
Until this Day, to scowre it in the Dust.

King.
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, and all cry, The mean Knight. Enter the King and Knights from Tilting.

King.
Knights, to say you're welcome, were superfluous.
To place upon the Volumn 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 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 wreath of Victory I give,
And Crown you King of this Day's happiness.

Per.
'Tis more by Fortune, Lady, than 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 Scholar: Come, Queen o'th' Feast,
For, Daughter, so you are, here take your Place:
Martial the rest, as thy deserve their grace.

Knights.
We are honour'd much by good Symonides.

King.
Your Presence glads our Days, 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 do 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 do seem unsavoury,
Wishing him my Meat; sure he's a gallant Gentleman.

King.
He's but a Country Gentleman; has done no more
Than other Knights have done, has broken a Staff,
Or so; let it pass.

Thai.
To me he seems a Diamond to Glass.

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 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, like a Glo-worm in the Night,
The which hath Fire in Darkness, 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 Royal Presence?

King.
Here, with a Cup that's stirr'd unto the brim,
As you do love, fill to your Mistress Lips,
We drink this Health to you.

Knights.
We thank your Grace.

King.
Yet pause a while,
Yon Knight doth sit too melancholy,
As if the Entertainment in our Court,
Had not a shew might countervail 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 Bowl of Wine to him.

Thai.
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 Womens Gifts for Impudence.

King.
How! do 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 Arms,
Who looking for Adventures in the World,
Was by the rough Seas rest of Ships and Men,
And after Shipwrack, driv'n 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 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.
Ev'n in your Armors, as you are addrest,
Will very well become a Soldier's Dance:
I will not have excuse, with saying that
Loud Musick is too harsh for Ladies Heads,
Since they love Men in Arms, 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, unclasp, unclasp. [They dance.
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 giv'n order to be next our own.

Per.
I am at your Grace's pleasure.

King.
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. 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 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 Heav'n came and shrivel'd
Up those Bodies, even to loathing, for they so stunk

That all those Eyes ador'd them, e'er their fall,
Scorn now their Hand should give them Burial.

Esca.
It was very strange.

Hell.
And yet but Justice;
For though this King were great,
His Greatness was no guard to bare Heav'ns shaft;
By Sin had his reward.

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

1 Lord.
See, not a Man in private Conference;
Or Counsel, 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 Hellican, 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 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 resolv'd, he lives to govern us:
Or dead, give's Cause to mourn his Funeral,
And leave us to our free Election.

2 Lord.
Whose death indeed, 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 knows how to rule, and how to reign,
We thus submit unto our Soveraign.

Omn.
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 hourly trouble, for a Minutes ease,)
A twelve Month 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 find, and win unto return,
You shall like Diamonds sit about his Crown.

1 Lord.
To Wisdom, he's a Fool that will not yield,
And since Lord Hellican enjoineth us,
We with our Travels will endeavour.

Hell.
Then you love us, we you, and we'll clasp Hands,
When Peers thus knit, a Kingdom ever stands. [Exeunt. Enter the King reading of a Letter at one Door, and the Knights meet him.

1 Knight.
Good morrow to the good Symonides.

King.
Knights, from my Daughter this I let you know,
That for this twelve Month, she'll not undertake
A married Life: Her Reason to her self is only known,
Which yet from her by no means can I get.

2 Knight.
May we not get access to her, my Lord?

King.
Faith, by no means, she hath so strictly
Ty'd 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.

3 Knight.
Loth to bid farewel, we take our leaves. [Exe.

King.
So, they are well dispatch'd,
Now to my Daughter's Letter; she tells me here,
She'll 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.

Per.
All Fortune to the good Symonides.

King.
To you as much: Sir, I am beholding to you,
For your sweet Musick this last Night:

I do protest, my Ears were never fed
With such delightful pleasing Harmony.

Per.
It is your Grace's Pleasure to commend,
Not my Desert.

King.
Sir, you are Musick's Master.

Per.
The worst of all her Scholars, my good Lord.

King.
Let me ask you one thing.
What do you think of my Daughter, Sir?

Per.
A most virtuous Princess.

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 Scholar; therefore look to it.

Per.
I am unworthy to be her School-master.

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 bewitch'd 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 liest.

Per.
Traitor!

King.
Ay, Traitor.

Per.
Even in his Throat, unless it be a King,
That calls me Traitor, I return the Lie.

King.
Now by the Gods I do applaud his Courage.

Per.
My Actions are as noble as my Thoughts,
That never relish'd of a base Descent:
I came unto the 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.

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'er sollicit, 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, Mistress, are you so peremptory?
I am glad of it with all my Heart. [Aside.
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 ought I know, [Aside.
May be, nor can I think the contrary,
As great in Blood as I my self.
Therefore hear you, Mistress, either frame
Your Will to mine; and you, Sir, hear you,
Either be rul'd by me, or I'll 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 further Grief,
God give you Joy; what, are you both pleas'd?

Thai.
Yes, if you love me, Sir.

Per.
Ev'n 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 o'er-fee Beast,
Of this most pompous Marriage Feast:
The Cat with eyne of burning Coal,
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 loss of Maidenhead,

A Babe is moulded, by attent,
And time that is so briefly spent,
With your fine fancies quaintly each,
What's dumb in shew, I'll plain with Speech. Enter Pericles and Symonides at one Door with Attendants, a Messenger meets them, kneels, and gives Pericles a Letter, Pericles shews it Symonides, the Lords kneel to him; then enter Thaisa with Child, with Lychorida a Nurse, the King shews her the Letter, she rejoices: She and Pericles take leave of her Father, and depart.
By many a dearn and painful pearch
Of Pericles, the careful search,
By the four opposing Crignes,
Which the World together joynes,
Is made with all due diligence,
That Horse and Sail, and high Expence,
Can steed the quest at last from Tyre,
Fame answering the most strange Enquire,
To th' Court of King Symonides,
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'oppress,
Sayes to them, 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,
Irony shed the Regions round,
And every one with claps can sound,
Our Heir apparent 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 cross, along to go,
Omit we all their dole and woe:
Lychorida her Nurse she takes,
And so to Sea; then vessel shakes

On Neptune's billow, half the Flood
Hath their Keel cut; but Fortune mov'd,
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 shreeks, and well-a-near,
Doth fall in travel with her fear:
And what ensues in this self storm,
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 appears to speak. Enter Pericles on Shipboard.

Per.
Thou God of this great vast, rebuke these Surges
Which wash both Heav'n and Hell; and thou that hast
Upon the Winds command, bind them in Brass,
Having call'd them from the Deep; O still
Thy deafning dreadful Thunders; daily quench
Thy nimble sulphurous Flashes: O how, Lychorida?
How does my Queen? then storm venomously,
Wilt thou spit all thy self? the Seamans whistle
Is a whisper in the Ears of Death,
Unheard Lychorida? Lucina, oh—
Divinest Patroness, and my Wife, gentle
To those that cry by Night, convey thy Deity
Aboard our dancing Boat, make swift the pangs
Of my Queen's Travels. Now, Lychorida. Enter Lychorida.

Lyc.
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.

Per.
How? how, Lychorida?

Lyc.
Patience, good Sir, do not assist the Storm,
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 do you make us love your goodly Gifts,
And snatch them straight away?
We here below, recal not what we give,
And we therein may use honour with you.

Lyc.
Patience, good Sir, even for this charge.

Per.
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 that follows,
Thou hast as chiding a Nativity,
As Fire, Air, Water, Earth, and Heav'n can make,
To harold thee from the Womb:
Ev'n 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 it. Enter two Sailors.

1 Sail.
What courage, Sir? God save you.

Per.
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.

1 Sail.

Slack the Bolins there; thou wilt not, wilt thou blow and split thy self?

2 Sail.

But Sea-room, and the brine and cloudy Billow kiss the Moon, I care not.

1 Sail.
Sir, your Queen must over-board,
The Sea works high, the Wind is loud,
And will not lye 'till the Ship be clear'd of the dead.

Per.
That's your Superstition.

1 Sail.
Pardon us, Sir, with us at Sea it still hath been observ'd,
And we are strong in Eastern, therefore briefly yield her.

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

Lyc.
Here she lyes, 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 hallow'd to thy Grave, but straight

Must cast thee scarcely Coffin'd, in oar,
Where for a Monument upon thy Bones.
The Air remaining Lamps, the belching Whale,
And humming Water must o'erwhelm 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 farewel to her: Suddenly, Woman.

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 canst thou reach it?

2 Sail.
By break of day, if the wind cease.

Per.
O make for Tharsus,
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. Enter Lord Cerymon with a Servant.

Cer.
Philemon, ho! 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'er endur'd.

Cer.
Your Master will be dead e'er 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 do you stir so early?

1 Gent.
Sir, our Lodging standing bleak upon the Sea,
Shook as if the Earth did quake:

The very Principles did seem to rend and all to topple,
Pure surprise 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 marvel that your Lordship
Having rich Attire 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 compelled.

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 Physick,
Through which secret Art, by turning o'er Authority,
I have together with my Practice, made familiar
To me and to my aid, the best 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 Pleasure up in silken Bags,
To please the Fool and Death.

2 Gent.
Your Honour hath 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 Cerymon
Such strong Renown, as never shall decay: Enter two or three with a Chest.

Ser.
So, list there.

Cer.
What's that?

Ser.
Sir, even now did the Sea toss 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'er it be, 'tis wondrous heavy;
Wrench it open straight:

If the Seas Stomach be o'er charg'd with Gold,
'Tis a good constraint of Fortune it belches upon us.

2 Gent.
'Tis so, my Lord.

Cer.
How close 'tis caulk'd 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 Nostril; 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 Passport 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 wo; 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 usurp on Nature many Hours,
And yet the Fire of Life kindle again the o'er-prest Spirits.
I heard of an Ægyptian that had nine Hours been dead,
Who was by good appliance recovered. Enter one with Napkins and Fire.
Well said, well said, the Fire and Cloaths,
The rough and woful Musick that we have,
Cause it to sound I beseech you:
The Vial once more; how thou stirrest, thou Block?
The Musick 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 above five Hours.
See how she gins to blow into Life's Flower again.

1 Gent.
The Heav'ns, through you, encrease our Wonder,
And sets up your Fame for ever.

Cer.
She is alive, behold her Eye-lids,
Cases to those heav'nly 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 Neighbours, lend me your Hands,
To the next Chamber bear her, get Linnen;
Now this matter must be look'd to, for the Relapse
Is mortal: Come, come, and, Esculapius, guide us. [Exeunt, carrying her away. ACT III. SCENE I. Enter Pericles at Tharsus, with Cleon and Dionysia.

Per.
Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone,
My twelve Months are expir'd, and Tyre stands
In a peace; you and your Lady take from my Heart
All Thankfulness. The Gods make up the rest upon you.

Cle.
Your shakes of Fortune, though they hate you
Mortally, yet glance full wondringly on us.

Dion.
O your sweet Queen!
That the strict Fates had pleas'd you'd brought her hither,
To have blest mine Eyes with her.

Per.
We cannot but obey the Pow'rs above us;
Could I rage and roar as doth the Sea she lyes 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; leaving 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 Lady, but think your Grace,
That fed my Country with your Corn; for which,
The Peoples Prayers daily fall upon you, must in your Child
Be thought on, if neglect should therein make me vile,
The common Body that's 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 unsister'd shall this Heir of mine remain,
Though I shew will in't: So I take my leave:
Good Madam, make me blessed, in your care
In bringing up my Child.

Dion.
I've one my self, who shall not be more dear
To my respect than yours, my Lord.

Per.
Madam, my Thanks and Prayers.

Cle.

We'll bring your Grace to the Edge of the Shore, then give you up to the masked Neptune, and the gentlest Winds of Heav'n.

Per.

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.