Tyr. Sail.
Where's the lord Helicanus? he can resolve you. [To the Sailor of Mitylene.
O here he is.—
Sir, there's a barge put off from Mitylene,
And in it is Lysimachus, the governor,
Who craves to come aboard. What is your will?

Hel.
That he have his. Call up some gentlemen.

Tyr. Sail.
Ho, gentlemen! my lord calls. Enter Two or Three Gentlemen.

1 Gent.
Doth your lordship call?

Hel.
Gentlemen,

There is some of worth would come aboard: I pray
Greet him fairly^{8 note}. [Gentlemen and Sailors descend, and go on board the Barge. Enter, from thence, Lysimachus and Lords; the Tyrian Gentlemen, and the Two Sailors.

Tyr. Sail.
Sir,
This is the man that can in aught you would
Resolve you.

Lys.
Hail, reverend sir! The gods preserve you!

Hel.
And you, sir, to outlive the age I am,
And die as I would do.

Lys.
You wish me well.
Being on shore, honouring of Neptune's triumphs,
Seeing this goodly vessel ride before us,
I made to it to know of whence you are.

Hel.
First, what is your place?

Lys.
I am the governor of this place you lie before.

Hel.
Sir,
Our vessel is of Tyre, in it the king;
A man, who for this three months hath not spoken
To any one, nor taken sustenance,
But to prorogue his grief.

Lys.
Upon what ground is his distemperature?

Hel.
It would be too tedious to repeat;
But the main grief of all springs from the loss
Of a beloved daughter and a wife.

Lys.
May we not see him, then?

Hel.
You may,
But bootless is your sight; he will not speak

To any.

Lys.
Yet, let me obtain my wish^{9 note}.

Hel.
Behold him. [Pericles discovered.] This was a goodly person,
Till the disaster that one mortal night
Drove him to this.

Lys.
Sir king, all hail! the gods preserve you!
Hail, royal sir!

Hel.
It is in vain; he will not speak to you.

1 Lord.
Sir, we have a maid in Mitylene, I durst wager,
Would win some words of him.

Lys.
'Tis well bethought.
She, questionless, with her sweet harmony,
And other choice attractions, would allure,
And make a battery through his deafen'd parts^{10 note},
Which now are midway stopp'd:
She is all happy as the fair'st of all,
And with her fellow maids is now upon
The leafy shelter that abuts against
The island's side. [He whispers one of the attendant Lords.—Exit Lord.

Hel.
Sure, all effectless; yet nothing we'll omit,
That bears recovery's name.
But, since your kindness we have stretch'd thus far,
Let us beseech you^{1 note},
That for our gold we may provision have,
Wherein we are not destitute for want,
But weary for the staleness.

Lys.
O, sir! a courtesy,
Which, if we should deny, the most just God
For every graff would send a caterpillar,
And so inflict our province.—Yet once more
Let me entreat to know at large the cause
Of your king's sorrow.

Hel.
Sit, sir, I will recount it to you;—
But see, I am prevented. Enter Lord, Marina, and a young Lady.

Lys.
O! here is
The lady that I sent for. Welcome, fair one!
Is't not a goodly presence^{2 note}?

Hel.
She's a gallant lady.

Lys.
She's such a one, that were I well assur'd she came
Of gentle kind, and noble stock, I'd wish
No better choice, and think me rarely wed.—
Fair one, all goodness that consists in bounty^{3 note}
Expect even here, where is a kingly patient:
If that thy prosperous and artificial feat
Can draw him but to answer thee in aught,
Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay
As thy desires can wish.

Mar.
Sir, I will use
My utmost skill in his recovery,
Provided none but I and my companion
Be suffer'd to come near him.

Lys.
Come, let us leave her,
And the gods make her prosperous! [Marina sings^{4 note}





















.

Lys.
Mark'd he your music?

Mar.
No, nor look'd on us.

Lys.
See, she will speak to him.

Mar.
Hail, sir! my lord, lend ear.—

Per.
Hum! ha!

Mar.
I am a maid,
My lord, that ne'er before invited eyes,
But have been gaz'd on like a comet: she speaks,
My lord, that may be, hath endur'd a grief
Might equal yours, if both were justly weigh'd.
Though wayward fortune did malign my state,
My derivation was from ancestors
Who stood equivalent with mighty kings;
But time hath rooted out my parentage,
And to the world and awkward casualties
Bound me in servitude.—I will desist;
But there is something glows upon my cheek,

And whispers in mine ear, “Go not till he speak.”

Per.
My fortunes—parentage—good parentage—
To equal mine!—was it not thus? what say you?

Mar.
I said, my lord, if you did know my parentage,
You would not do me violence.

Per.
I do think so.
I pray you, turn your eyes again upon me.—
You are like something that—What countrywoman?
Here of these shores^{5 note}?

Mar.
No, nor of any shores;
Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am
No other than I appear.

Per.
I am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping.
My dearest wife was like this maid, and such a one
My daughter might have been: my queen's square brows;
Her stature to an inch; as wand-like straight;
As silver-voic'd; her eyes as jewel-like,
And cas'd as richly: in pace another Juno;
Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry,
The more she gives them speech.—Where do you live?

Mar.
Where I am but a stranger: from the deck
You may discern the place.

Per.
Where were you bred?
And how achiev'd you these endowments, which
You make more rich to owe^{6 note}

Mar.
Should I tell my history,
'Twould seem like lies, disdain'd in the reporting.

Per.
Pr'ythee, speak:
Falseness cannot come from thee, for thou look'st
Modest as justice, and thou seem'st a palace

For the crown'd truth to dwell in. I'll believe thee,
And make my senses credit thy relation,
To points that seem impossible; for thou look'st
Like one I lov'd indeed. What were thy friends?
Didst thou not say^{7 note}, when I did push thee back,
(Which was when I perceiv'd thee) that thou cam'st
From good descending?

Mar.
So indeed I did.

Per.
Report thy parentage. I think thou saidst
Thou hadst been toss'd from wrong to injury,
And that thou thought'st thy griefs might equal mine,
If both were open'd.

Mar.
Some such thing
I said, and said no more but what my thoughts
Did warrant me was likely.

Per.
Tell thy story;
If thine consider'd prove the thousandth part
Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I
Have suffer'd like a girl: yet thou dost look
Like Patience, gazing on kings' graves, and smiling
Extremity out of act. What were thy friends?
How lost thou them^{8 note}? Thy name, my most kind virgin?
Recount, I do beseech thee. Come, sit by me.

Mar.
My name is Marina.

Per.
O! I am mock'd,
And thou by some incensed god sent hither
To make the world to laugh at me,

Mar.
Patience, good sir,
Or here I'll cease.

Per.
Nay, I'll be patient.
Thou little know'st how thou dost startle me,
To call thyself Marina.

Mar.
The name

Was given me by one that had some power;
My father, and a king.

Per.
How! a king's daughter?
And call'd Marina?

Mar.
You said you would believe me;
But, not to be a troubler of your peace,
I will end here.

Per.
But are you flesh and blood?
Have you a working pulse? and are no fairy
Motion?—Well; speak on. Where were you born,
And wherefore call'd Marina?

Mar.
Call'd Marina,
For I was born at sea.

Per.
At sea! what mother^{9 note}?

Mar.
My mother was the daughter of a king;
Who died the minute I was born,
As my good nurse Lychorida hath oft
Deliver'd weeping.

Per.
O! stop there a little.
This is the rarest dream that e'er dull'd sleep
Did mock sad fools withal; this cannot be.
My daughter's buried.—Well:—where were you bred?
I'll hear you more, to the bottom of your story,
And never interrupt you.

Mar.
You scorn^{1 note}: believe me, 'twere best I did give o'er.

Per.
I will believe you by the syllable
Of what you shall deliver. Yet, give me leave:
How came you in these parts? where were you bred?

Mar.
The king, my father, did in Tharsus leave me,
Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,

Did seek to murder me; and having woo'd
A villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do't,
A crew of pirates came and rescued me;
Brought me to Mitylene. But, good sir,
Wither will you have me? Why do you weep? It may be,
You think me an impostor: no, good faith;
I am the daughter to king Pericles,
If good king Pericles be.

Per.
Ho, Helicanus!

Hel.
Calls my gracious lord?

Per.
Thou art a grave and noble counsellor,
Most wise in general: tell me, if thou canst,
What this maid is, or what is like to be,
That thus hath made me weep?

Hel.
I know not; but
Here is the regent, sir, of Mitylene,
Speaks nobly of her.

Lys.
She would never tell
Her parentage; being demanded that,
She would sit still and weep.

Per.
O Helicanus! strike me, honour'd sir;
Give me a gash, put me to present pain,
Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me,
O'erbear the shores of my mortality,
And drown me with their sweetness. O! come hither,
Thou that beget'st him that did thee beget;
Thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tharsus,
And found at sea again.—O Helicanus!
Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods as loud
As thunder threatens us: this is Marina.—
What was thy mother's name? tell me but that,
For truth can never be confirm'd enough,
Though doubts did ever sleep.

Mar.
First, sir, I pray,
What is your title?

Per.
I am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me, now,

My drown'd queen's name, (as in the rest you said
Thou hast been godlike perfect) the heir of kingdoms,
And another like to Pericles thy father^{2 note}.

Mar.
Is it no more to be your daughter, than
To say, my mother's name was Thaisa?
Thaisa was my mother, who did end
The minute I began.

Per.
Now, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child.
Give me fresh garments! Mine own, Helicanus,
She is not dead at Tharsus, as she should have been,
By savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all;
When thou shalt kneel and justify in knowledge,
She is thy very princess.—Who is this?

Hel.
Sir, 'tis the governor of Mitylene,
Who, hearing of your melancholy state,
Did come to see you.

Per.
I embrace you,
Give me my robes! I am wild in my beholding.
O heavens, bless my girl! But hark! what music?—
Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him
O'er, point by point, for yet he seems to doubt^{3 note},
How sure you are my daughter.—But what music?

Hel.
My lord, I hear none.

Per.
None?
The music of the spheres! list, my Marina.

Lys.
It is not good to cross him: give him way.

Per.
Rarest sounds! Do ye not hear?

Lys.
Music? My lord, I hear—

Per.
Most heavenly music:
It nips me unto list'ning, and thick slumber
Hangs upon mine eyes: let me rest^{4 note}. [He sleeps.

Lys.
A pillow for his head. [The Curtain before the Pavilion of Pericles is closed.
So leave him all.—Well, my companion-friends,
If this but answer to my just belief,
I'll well remember you. [Exeunt Lysimachus, Helicanus, Marina, and Lady.

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