So puts himself into the shipman's toil,
With whom each minute threatens life or death.
Til. Well, I perceive

[Aside.

Isual not be hang'd now, although I would;
But since he's gone, the king it sure must please,
He 'cap'd the land, to perish on the seas.-
But I'll present me. Peace to the lords of Tyre!
Hel. Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.
That. From him I come

With message unto princely Pericles:

But, since my landing, as I have understood
Your lord has took himself to unknown travels,
My message must return from whence it came.
Hel. We have no reason to desire it, since
Commended to our master, not to us:
Yet, ere you shall depart, this we desire.,-
As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Tarsus. A Room in the Governor's House.

Enter CLEON, DIONYZA, and Attendants.

Cle. My Dionyza, shall we rest us here, And, by relating tales of others' griefs,, See it '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;
Here they're but felt, and seen with mistful eyes,
But like to groves, being topp'd, they higher rise.
Cle. O Dionyza,

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 do weep, till lungs
Fetch breath that may proclaim them louder;
that,

If heaven slumber, while their creatures want,
They may awake their helps 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 have government,
A city on whom plenty held full hand,)
For riches, strew'd herself even in the streets;
Whose towers bore heads so high, they kiss'd the
clouds,

And strangers ne'er beheld, but wonder'd at;
Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn'd,
Like one another's 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. O, 'tis too true.

Cle. But see what heaven can do! By this our change,

These mouths, whom 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:

These palates, who, not yet two summers younger,
Must have inventions to delight the taste,
Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it;
Those mothers who, to nousles up their babes,
Thought naught too curious, are ready now
To eat those little darlings whom they lov'd.
So sharp are hunger's teeth, that man and wife

Draw lots, who first shall die 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 taste,
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 neighboring

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 neighboring nation,
Taking advantage of our misery,

Hath stuff d these hollow vessels with their power,
To beat us down, the which are down already;
And make a conquest of unhappy me,

Whereas no glory's got to overcome.

Lord. That's the least fear: for, by the semblance Of their white flags display'd, they bring us peace, And come to us as favorers, not as foes.

Cle. Thou speak 'st like him's untutor'd to repeat; Who makes the fairest show, means most deceit. But bring they what they will, what need we fear? The ground's the low'st, 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. [Exu. Cle. Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist;7 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 have 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 relieve them of their heavy load; And these our ships you happily may think Are, like the Trojan horse, war-stuff'd within, With bloody views, expecting overthrow, Are stored with corn, to make your needy bread, And give them life, who are hunger-starv'd, halt

dead.

All. The gods of Greece protect you!
And we'll pray for you.
Per.

Rise, I pray you, rise;
We do not look for reverence, but for love,
And harborage for ourself, our ships, and men.
Cle. The which when any shall not gratify,
Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought,
Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves,
The curse of heaven 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.

[Exeura

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 shows the Letter to CLEON; then gives the Messenger a reward, and knights him. Exeunt PERICLES, CLEON, &c., severally.

Gow. Good Helicane hath staid at home,
Not to eat honey, like a drone,
From others' labors; forth he strive
To killen bad, keep good alive;
And to fulfil his prince' desire,
Sends word of all that haps in Tyre:
How Thaliard came full bent with sin,
And hid intent, to murder him;
And that in Tharsus was not best
Longer for him to make his rest:
He knowing so, put forth to seas,
Where when men been, there's seldom ease;
For now the wind begins to blow;
Thunder above, and deeps below,
Make such unquiet, that the ship
Should house him safe, is wreck'd and split;
And he, good prince, having all lost,
By waves from coast to coast is tost:
All perishen of man, of pelf,

Ne aught escapen but himself;

Till fortune, tired with doing bad, Threw him ashore, to give him glad:

And here he comes: what shall be next, Pardon old Gower: this long's the text.

[Exit.

SCENE I.-Pentapolis. An open Place by the Sea-side.

Enter PERICLES, wet.

Per. Yet cease your ire, ye 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 wat'ry grave, Here to have death in peace, is all he'll crave. Enter three Fishermen.

1 Fish. What, ho, Pilche!

2 Fish. Ho! 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 grieved my heart to hear what pitiful cries they made to us, to help them, when, well-a-day, we could scarce help ourselves. 3 Fish. Nay, master, said not I as much, when I saw the porpus, how he bounced and tumbled? they say, they are 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.

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; '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 a' the land, who never leave gaping, till they've swallow'd the whole parish, church, steeple, bells, and all.

Per. A pretty moral.

2 Fish. Honest! good fellow, what's that? if it be a day fits you, scratch it out of the calendar, and nobody will look after it.

Per. Nay, see, the sea hath cast upon your coast2 Fish. What a drunken knave was the sea, te 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, entreats you pity him; He asks of you, that never used to beg.

1 Fish. No, friend, cannot you beg? here's them in our country of Greece, gets more with begging than we can do with working.

2 Fish. Canst thou catch any fishes then? Per. I never practised it.

2 Fish. Nay, then thou wilt starve sure; for here's nothing to be got now-a-days, unless the 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 shrunk 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 I am a man, pray see me buried.

1 Fish. Die, quoth-a? Now gods forbid! I have a gown here; come, put it on; keep thee warr 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.

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 whipped, then! 2 Fish. O, not all, my friend, not all; for if ali your beggars were whipped, I would wish no bet ter office, than to be beadle. But, master, I'll go draw up the net. [Exeunt two of the Fishermen. Per. How well this honest mirth becomes their

labor!

1 Fish. Hark you, sir; do you know where you are?

Per. Not well.

1 Fish. Why, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and our king, the good Simonides.

Per. The good king Simonides, do you call him! 1 Fish. Ay, sir; and he deserves to be so called, for his peaceable reign, and good government. Per. He is a happy king, since from his subjects He gains 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 birth-day; and there are princes and knights come from all parts of the world, to just and tourney for her love.

Per. Did but my fortunes equal my desires, I'd wish to make one there.

1 Fish. O, sir, things must be as they may; and what a man cannot get, he may lawfully deal torhis wife's soul.

Re-enter the two Fishermen, drawing up a Net.

2 Fish. Help, master, help; here's a fish hans in the net, like a poor man's right in the law; wal hardly come out. Ha! bots on't, 'tis come at is, and 'tis turned to a rusty armor.

Per. An armor, friends! I pray you, let me see i Thanks, fortune, yet, that after all my crosses,

Per. Simonides!

3 Fish. We would purge the lard of these drones, that rob the bee of her honey.

Per. How from the finny subject of the sea
These fishers tell the infirmities of men;
And from their wat'ry empire recollect
All that may men approve, or men detect!
Peace be to your labor, honest fishermen.

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 brace
For that it sav'd me, keep it; in like necessity,
Which gods protect thee from! it may defend the
It kept where I kept, I so dearly lov'd it;
Till the rough seas, that spare not any man.
Took it in rage, though, calm'd, they give't again:
I thank thee for't; my shipwreck's now no il,
Since I have here my father's gift by will.
1 Fish. What mean you, sir?

Per. To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of
worth,
Pan-cakes.

1 Armor the arm

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 sovereign's court,
Where with't I may appear a gentleman;
And if that ever my low fortunes better,
I'll pay your bounties; till then, rest your debtor.
1 Fish. Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady?
Per. III show the virtue I have borne in arms.
1 Fish. Way, do ye take it, and the gods give
thee good or't!

2 Fish. 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.

Per. Believe't, I will.

Now, by your furtherance, I am cloth'd in steel;
And spite of all the rupture of the sea,

This jewel holds his bidding2 on my arm;
Unto thy value will I 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.

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 myself.

Per. Then honor be but a goal to my will; This day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill."

[Exeunt.

SCENE II-The same. A Public Way, or Platform, leading to the Lists. A Pavilion by the side of it, for the reception of the King, Princess, Lords, &c.

Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, and Attendants. Sim. Are the knights ready to begin the triumph! 1 Lord. They are, my liege;

And stay your coming to present themselves.
Sim. Return them, we are ready; and our
daughter,

In honor of whose birth these triumphs are,
Sits here, like beauty's child, whom nature gat
For me to see, and seeing, wonder at.

[Exit a Lord.
Thai. It pleaseth you, my father, to express
My commendations great, whose merit's less.
Sim. 'Tis 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 renown, if not respected.
'Tis now your honor, daughter, to explain
The labor of each knight, in his device.

Thai. Which, to preserve mine honor, I'll per

form.

Enter a Knight; he passes over the Stage, and his
Squire presents his Shield to the Princess.
Sim. 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.
Sim. He loves you well, that holds his life of you.
[The second Knight passes.
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, Piu per dulçura que
The third Knight passes.
per fue ça

Sim. And what's the third?
Thai.
The third, of Antioch;
And his device, a wreath of chivalry:
The word, Me pompa prorexit apex.
[The fourth Knight passes.

Sim. What is the fourth?

Thai. A burning torch, that's turned upside down: The word. Quod me alit, me extinguit. Sim. Which shows that beauty hath his power and will,

Which can as well inflame, as it can kill.

[The fifth Knight passes. Thai. The fifth, a hand environed with clouds; Holding out gold, that's by the touchstone tried: The motto thus, Sic spectanda fides.

• Keeping.

A kind of loose breeches.

i.e. Return them notice. i.. More by sweetness than by force.

With such a graceful courtesy deliver'd?

Thai. He seems a stranger; but his present is A wither'd branch, that's only green at top; The motto, In hac spe vivo.

Sim. 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 out
ward show

Can any way speak in his just commend:
For, by his rusty outside, he appears
To have practis'd more the whipstock, than the
lance.

2 Lord. He well may be a stranger, for he comer To an honor'd triumph, strangely furnished. 3 Lord. And on set purpose let his armor rust, Until this day, to scour it in the dust.

Sim. Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan The outward habit by the inward man. But stay, the knights are coming; we'll withdraw Into the gallery. [Exeunt. [Great shouts; and all cry, The mean knight!

SCENE III-The same. A Hall of State.-A Banquet prepared.

Attendants.

Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, Knights, and
Sim. Knights,

To say you are 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 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.
Sim, Call it by what you will, the day is yours;
And here, I hope, is none that envies it.
In framing artists, art hath thus decreed,
To make some good, but others to exceed;
And you're her labor'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 honor'd much by good Simo

nides.

ture,

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;
The which hath fire in darkness, none in light;
Where now his son's a glow-worm in the night,
Whereby I see that time's the king of men,
For he's their parent, and he is their grave,
And gives them what he will, not what they crave.
Sim. What, are you merry, knights!

i. e. These delicacies go against my stomach.

To me, my father?

What is it

Sim.
O, attend, my daughter;
Princes, in this, should live like gods above,
Who freely give to every one that comes
To honor them: and princes, not doing so,
Are like to gnats, which make a sound, but kill'd
Are wonder'd at.

Therefore to make's entrance 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 women's gifts for impudence.
Sim. How!

Do as I bid you, or you'll move me else.

Thai. Now, by the gods, he could not please me better. [Aside. Sim. And further tell him we desire to know, Of whence he is, his name and parentage. Thai. The king, my father, sir, has 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 being 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.
Thai. He thanks your grace; names himself
Pericles,

A gentleman of Tyre, who only by
Misfortune of the seas has been bereft
Of ships and men, and cast upon this shore.
Sim. 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 armors, 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 often 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.

Sim. O, that's as much as you would be deny'd
[The Knights and Ladies dance.

Of your fair courtesy.-Unclasp, unclasp;
Thanks, gentlemen, to all; all have done well,
But you the best. [TO PERICLES.] Pages and lights,

conduct

Even in the height and pride of all his glory,
When he was seated, and his daughter with him,
In a chariot of inestimable value,

A fire from heaven came, and shrivell'd up
Their 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 burial.
Esca. 'Twas very strange.
Hel.
And yet but just; for though
This king was great, his greatness was no guard
To bar heaven's shaft, but sin had his reward.
Esca. 'Tis very true.

Enter three Lords.

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

2 Lord. It shall no longer grieve without reproof. 3 Lord. Follow me then: Lord Helicane, a word. Hel. With me? and welcome: Happy day, my lords.

1 Lord. Know that our griefs are risen to the top, And now at length they overflow their banks. Hel. Your griefs, for what? wrong not the prince you love.

1 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 resolv'd he lives to govern us, Or dead, gives cause to mourn his funeral, And leaves us to our free election.

2 Lord. Whose death's, indeed, the strongest in

our censure:

And knowing this kingdom, if without a head,
(Like goodly buildings left without a roof,)
Will soon to ruin fall, your noble self,
That best know'st how to rule, and how to reign,
We thus submit unto,-our sovereign.

All. Live, Lord Helicane!

Hel. Try honor'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 then entreat you To forbear choice i' the absence o' the 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 his love; Go search like noblemen, 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 Helicane enjoineth us, We with our travels will endeavor it. Hel. Then you love us, we you, and we'll clasp hands; When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands. [Exeunt.

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 from herself 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 honor will not break it. 3 Knight. Though loath to bid farewell, weake our leaves. [Exeunt.

Sim. So

They're well despatch'd; now to my daughter♥

letter;

She tells me here, she'll wed the stranger knight,
Or never more to view nor day nor light.
Mistress, 'tis well, 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 chuire