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J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
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SCENE V. Pentapolis. A Room in the Palace. Enter Simonides, reading a Letter: the Knights meet him.

1 Knight.
Good morrow to the good Simonides.

Sim.
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.

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

Sim.
'Faith, by no means; she hath so strictly tied her
To her chamber, that it is 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.

3 Knight.
Though loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves.
[Exeunt.

Sim.
So,
They're well despatch'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 commend her choice,
And will no longer have it be delay'd.
Soft! here he comes: I must dissemble it.

-- 307 --

Enter Pericles.

Per.
All fortune to the good Simonides!

Sim.
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 fed7 note
With such delightful pleasing harmony.

Per.
It is your grace's pleasure to commend,
Not my desert.

Sim.
Sir, you are music's master.

Per.
The worst of all her scholars, my good lord.

Sim.
Let me ask one thing.
What do you think of my daughter, sir?

Per.
As of a most virtuous princess.

Sim.
And she is fair too, is she not?

Per.
As a fair day in summer; wondrous fair.

Sim.
My daughter, sir, thinks very well of you;
Ay, so well, sir, that you must be her master,
And she'll your scholar be: therefore, look to it.

Per.
I am unworthy for her schoolmaster.

Sim.
She thinks not so; peruse this writing else.

Per. [Aside.]
What's here?
A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre?
'Tis the king's subtilty, to have my life. [To him.]
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.

Sim.
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.

-- 308 --

Sim.
Traitor, thou liest.

Per.
Traitor!

Sim.
Ay, traitor.

Per.
Even in his throat, unless it be the king,
That calls me traitor, I return the lie.

Sim. [Aside.]
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 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.

Sim.
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 solicit, 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?

Sim.
Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory?— [Aside.]
I am glad on't with all my heart. [To her.]
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 rul'd 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;

-- 309 --


And for farther grief,—God give you joy!—
What, are you both pleas'd?

Thai.
Yes, if you love me, sir.

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

Sim.
What! are you both agreed?

Both.
Yes, if't please your majesty.

Sim.
It pleaseth me so well, I'll see you wed;
Then, with what haste you can get you to bed.
[Exeunt.
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J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
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