The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

• Pericles Prince of Tyre: Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Scene I.—: Antioch. a Room In the Palace.
• Scene II.—: Tyre. a Room In the Palace.
• Scene III.—: The Same. an Antechamber In the Palace.
• Scene IV.—: Tarsus. a Room In the Governor’s House.
• Act II.
• Dumb Show.
• Scene I.—: Pentapolis. an Open Place By the Sea-side.
• Scene II.—: The Same. a Public Way. Platform Leading to the Lists. a Pavilion Near It, For the Reception of Theking, Princess, Ladies, Lords, &c.
• Scene III.—: The Same. a Hall of State. a Banquet Prepared.
• Scene IV.—: Tyre. a Room In the Governor’s House.
• Scene V.—: Pentapolis. a Room In the Palace.
• Act III.
• Dumb Show.
• Scene I.
• Scene II.—: Ephesus. a Room Incerimon’shouse.
• Scene III.—: Tarsus. a Room Incleon’shouse.
• Scene IV.—: Ephesus. a Room Incerimon’shouse.
• Act IV.
• Scene I.—: Tarsus. an Open Place Near the Sea-shore.
• Scene II.—: Mitylene. a Room In a Brothel.
• Scene III.—: Tarsus. a Room Incleon’shouse.
• Scene IV.—: Before the Monument Ofmarinaat Tarsus.
• Dumb Show.
• Scene V.—: Mitylene. a Street Before the Brothel.
• Scene VI.—: The Same. a Room In the Brothel.
• Act V.
• Scene I.—: On Boardpericles’ Ship, Off Mitylene. a Pavilion On Deck, With a Curtain Before It;pericleswithin It, Reclined On a Couch. a Barge Lying Beside the Tyrian Vessel.
• Scene II.—: Before the Temple Ofdianaat Ephesus.
• Scene III.—: The Temple Ofdianaat Ephesus;thaisastanding Near the Altar, As High Priestess; a Number of Virgins On Each Side;cerimonand Other Inhabitants of Ephesus Attending.

ACT III.

EnterGower.

• Now sleep yslaked hath the rout;
• No din but snores the house about,
• Made louder by the o’er-fed breast
• Of this most pompous marriage-feast.
• The cat, with eyne of burning coal,
• Now couches fore the mouse’s hole;
• And crickets sing at the oven’s mouth,
• E’er the blither for their drouth.
• Hymen hath brought the bride to bed,
• Where, by the loss of maidenhead,
• A babe is moulded. Be attent;
• And time that is so briefly spent
• With your fine fancies quaintly eche;
• What’s dumb in show I’ll plain with speech.

Dumb Show.

Enter, from one side,PericlesandSimonides,with Attendants; a Messenger meets them, kneels, and givesPericlesa letter:Periclesshows it toSimonides;the Lords kneel toPericles.Then enterThaisawith child, andLychorida: Simonidesshows his daughter the letter; she rejoices: she andPericlestake leave of her father, and all depart.

• By many a dern and painful perch,
• Of Pericles the careful search
• By the four opposing coigns,
• Which the world together joins,
• Is made with all due diligence
• That horse and sail and high expense,
• Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre,—
• Fame answering the most strange inquire—
• To the court of King Simonides
• Are letters brought, the tenour these:
• Antiochus and his daughter dead;
• The men of Tyrus on the head
• Of Helicanus would set on
• The crown of Tyre, but he will none:
• The mutiny he there hastes t’ oppress;
• Says to ’em, 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,
• Yravished the regions round,
• And every one with claps can sound,
• ‘Our heir-apparent is a king!
• Who dream’d, 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. Their vessel shakes
• On Neptune’s billow; half the flood
• Hath their keel cut: but Fortune’s mood
• Varies again; the grisled north
• Disgorges such a tempest forth,
• That, as a duck for life that dives,
• So up and down the poor ship drives.
• The lady shrieks, and well-a-near
• Does fall in travail with her fear;
• And what ensues in this fell storm
• Shall for itself itself 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 sea-tost Pericles appears to speak.
• [Exit.

Scene I.

EnterPericles,on shipboard.

Per.

Thou God of this great vast, rebuke these surges,

Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that hast

Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,

Having call’d them from the deep. O! still

Thy deafening, dreadful thunders; gently quench

Thy nimble, sulphurous flashes. O! how Lychorida,

How does my queen? Thou stormest venomously;

Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman’s whistle

Is as a whisper in the ears of death,

Unheard. Lychorida! Lucina, O!

Divinest patroness, and midwife gentle

To those that cry by night, convey thy deity

Aboard our dancing boat; make swift the pangs

Of my queen’s travails!

EnterLychorida,with an Infant.

Now, 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 your queen,

A little daughter: for the sake of it,

Be manly, and take comfort.

Per.

O you gods!

Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,

And snatch them straight away? We here below,

Recall not what we give, and therein may

Use honour with you.

Lyc.

Patience, good sir,

Even for this charge.

Per.

Now, mild may be thy life!

For a more blust’rous birth had never babe:

Quiet and gentle thy conditions!

For thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world

That e’er was prince’s child. Happy what follows!

Thou hast as chiding a nativity

As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make,

To herald thee from the womb; even 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 ’t!

Enter two Sailors.

First 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.

First Sail.

Slack the bolins there! thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow, and split thyself.

Sec. Sail.

But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon, I care not.

First Sail.

Sir, you queen must overboard: the sea works high, the wind is loud, and will not lie till the ship be cleared of the dead.

Per.

That’s your superstition.

First Sail.

Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it hath been still observed, and we are strong in custom. Therefore briefly yield her, for she must overboard straight.

Per.

As you think meet. Most wretched queen!

Lyc.

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 give thee hallow’d to thy grave, but straight

Must cast thee, scarcely coffin’d, in the ooze;

Where, for a monument upon thy bones,

And aye-remaining lamps, the belching whale

And humming water must o’erwhelm thy corpse,

Lying with simple shells! O Lychorida!

Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,

My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander

Bring me the satin coffer: lay the babe

Upon the pillow. Hie thee, whiles I say

A priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.

[ExitLychorida.

Sec. Sail.

Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulk’d and bitumed ready.

Per.

I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?

Sec. Sail.

We are near Tarsus.

Per.

Thither, gentle mariner,

Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it?

Sec. Sail.

By break of day, if the wind cease.

Per.

O! make for Tarsus.

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.

Scene II.—

Ephesus. A Room inCerimon’sHouse.

EnterCerimon,a Servant, and some Persons who have been shipwracked.

Cer.

Philemon, ho!

EnterPhilemon.

Phil.

Doth my lord call?

Cer.

Get fire and meat for these poor men;

’T has 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 ere you return;

There’s nothing can be minister’d to nature

That can recover him. [ToPhilemon.] Give this to the ’pothecary,

And tell me how it works.

[Exeunt all exceptCerimon.

Enter two Gentlemen.

First Gent.

Good morrow, sir.

Sec. Gent.

Good morrow to your lordship.

Cer.

Gentlemen,

Why do you stir so early?

First Gent.

Sir,

Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea,

Shook as the earth’ did quake;

The very principals did seem to rend,

And all to topple. Pure surprise and fear

Made me to quit the house.

Sec. Gent.

That is the cause we trouble you so early;

’Tis not our husbandry.

Cer.

O! you say well.

First Gent.

But I much marvel that your lordship, having

Rich tire 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 compell’d.

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 physic, through which secret art,

By turning o’er authorities, I have—

Together with my practice—made familiar

To me and to my aid the blest 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 treasure up in silken bags,

To please the fool and death.

Sec. Gent.

Your honour has 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 Cerimon

Such strong renown as time shall ne’er decay.

Enter two Servants, with a chest.

First Serv.

So; lift there.

Cer.

What is that?

First Serv.

Sir, even now

Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest:

’Tis of some wrack.

Cer.

Set it down; let’s look upon ’t.

Sec. Gent.

’Tis like a coffin, sir.

Cer.

Whate’er it be,

’Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight;

If the sea’s stomach be o’ercharg’d with gold,

’Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us.

Sec. Gent.

’Tis so, my lord.

Cer.

How close ’tis caulk’d and bitumed!

Did the sea cast it up?

First Serv.

I never saw so huge a billow, sir,

As toss’d it upon shore.

Cer.

Come, wrench it open.

Soft! it smells most sweetly in my sense.

Sec. Gent.

A delicate odour.

Cer.

As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it.

O you most potent gods! what’s here? a corse!

First Gent.

Most strange!

Cer.

Shrouded in cloth of state; balm’d and entreasur’d

With full bags of spices! A passport too!

Apollo, perfect me i’ 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 liv’st, Pericles, thou hast a heart

That even cracks for woe! This chanc’d to-night.

Sec. 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 fire within;

Fetch hither all the boxes in my closet.

[Exit Second Servant.

Death may usurp on nature many hours,

And yet the fire of life kindle again

The overpress’d spirits. I heard

Of an Egyptian, that had nine hours lien dead,

Who was by good appliances recovered.

Re-enter Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire.

Well said, well said; the fire and cloths.

The rough and woeful music that we have,

Cause it to sound, beseech you.

The viol once more;—how thou stirr’st, thou block!

The music there! I pray you, give her air.

Gentlemen,

This queen will live; nature awakes, a warmth

Breathes out of her; she hath not been entranc’d

Above five hours. See! how she ’gins to blow

Into life’s flower again.

First Gent.

The heavens

Through you increase our wonder and set up

Your fame for ever.

Cer.

She is alive! behold,

Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels

Which Pericles hath lost,

Begin to part their fringes of bright gold;

The diamonds of a most praised water

Do 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?

Sec. Gent.

Is not this strange?

First Gent.

Most rare.

Cer.

Hush, gentle neighbours!

Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her.

Get linen; now this matter must be look’d to,

For her relapse is mortal, Come, come;

And Æsculapius guide us!

[Exeunt, carryingThaisaaway.

Scene III.—

Tarsus. A Room inCleon’sHouse.

EnterPericles, Cleon, Dionyza,andLychorida,withMarinain her arms.

Per.

Most honour’d Cleon, I must needs be gone;

My twelve months are expir’d, and Tyrus stands

In a litigious peace. You and your lady

Take from my heart all thankfulness; the gods

Make up the rest upon you!

Cle.

Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,

Yet glance full wanderingly on us.

Dion.

O your sweet queen!

That the strict fates had pleas’d you had brought her hither,

To have bless’d mine eyes with her!

Per.

We cannot but obey

The powers above us. Could I rage and roar

As doth the sea she lies 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, and leave 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 lord, but think

Your Grace, that fed my country with your corn—

For which the people’s prayers still fall upon you—

Must in your child be thought on. If neglection

Should therein make me vile, the common body,

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

Unscissar’d shall this hair of mine remain,

Though I show ill in ’t. So I take my leave.

Good madam, make me blessed in your care

In bringing up my child.

Dion.

I have one myself,

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 e’en to the edge o’ the shore;

Then give you up to the mask’d Neptune and

The gentlest winds of heaven.

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.

[Exeunt.

Scene IV.—

Ephesus. A Room inCerimon’sHouse.

EnterCerimonandThaisa.

Cer.

Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels,

Lay with you in your coffer; which are now

At your command. Know you the character?

Thai.

It is my lord’s.

That I was shipp’d at sea, I well remember,

Even on my eaning time; but whether there

Deliver’d, by the holy gods,

I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles,

My wedded lord, I ne’er shall see again,

A vestal livery will I take me to,

And never more have joy.

Cer.

Madam, if this you purpose as you speak,

Diana’s temple is not distant far,

Where you may abide till your date expire.

Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine

Shall there attend you.

Thai.

My recompense is thanks, that’s all;

Yet my good will is great, though the gift small.

[Exeunt.