Then, lest my life be cropp'd to keep you clear, By flight I'll shun the danger which I fear. [Exit. Re-enter ANTIOCHUS.

we mean

Ant. Thaliard, adieu. Till Pericles be dead, My heart can lend no succour to my head. [Exit.

SCENE II.-Tyre. A Room in the Palace.

Enter PERICLES, HELICANUS, and other Lords.

Per. Let none disturb us: why should this change of thoughts?

The sad companion, dull-ey'd melancholy,
By me so us'd a guest is, not an hour,

In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night,

The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed me quiet.

Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun them,

And danger, which I feared, is at Antioch,
Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here;
Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits,
Nor yet the other's distance comfort me.
Then, it is thus: that passions of the mind,
That have their first conception by mis-dread,
Have after-nourishment and life by care;
And what was first but fear what might be done,
Grows elder now, and cares it be not done:
And so with me:-the great Antiochus
('Gainst whom I am too little to contend,
Since he's so great, can make his will his act)
Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence;
Nor boots it me to say. I honour,

Amazement shall drive courage from the state;
Our men be vanquish'd ere they do resist,
And subjects punish'd that ne'er thought offence :
Which care of them, not pity of myself,
(Who am no more but as the tops of trees,

Which fence the roots they grow by, and defend

them,)

Makes both my body pine, and soul to languish,
And punish that before, that he would punish.

1 Lord. Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast. 2 Lord. And keep your mind, till you return to

us,

Peaceful and comfortable.

Hel. Peace, peace! and give experience tongue. They do abuse the king, that flatter him: For flattery is the bellows blows up sin; The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark To which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing; Whereas reproof, obedient and in order, Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err : When signior Sooth, here, does proclaim a peace, He flatters you, makes war upon your life. Prince, pardon me, or strike me, if you please; I cannot be much lower than my knees.

Per. All leave us else; but let your cares o'erlook What shipping, and what lading's in our haven, And then returnto us. [Exeunt Lords.] -Helicanus, thou

Hast moved us: what seest thou in our looks?
Hel. An angry brow, dread lord.
Per. If there be such a dart in prince's frowns,
How durst thy tongue move anger to our face?

from whence

Hel. How dare the plants look up to heaven,

Hel.

To bear with patience Such griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself. Per. Thou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus, That ministers a potion unto me,

That thou would'st tremble to receive thyself.
Attend me, then: I went to Antioch,
Where, as thou know'st, against the face of death
I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty,
From whence an issue I might propagate,
Are arms to princes, and bring joys to subjects.
Her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder;
The rest (hark in thine ear) as black as incest:
Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father
Seem'd not to strike, but smooth; but thou know'st

this,

'Tis time to fear, when tyrants seem to kiss. Which fear so grew in me, I hither fled Under the covering of a careful night,

Who seem'd my good protector; and being here

Bethought me what was past, what might succeed.
I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than the years.
And should he doubt it, (as no doubt he doth,)
That I should open to the listening air,
How many worthy princes' bloods were shed,
To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,

To lop that doubt he'll fill this land with arms,
And make pretence of wrong that I have done him;
When all, for mine, if I may call't, offence,
Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence:
Which love to all, of which thyself art one,
Who now reprov'st me for it-
Hel.

Alas, sir!

And doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd,
To show his sorrow he'd correct himself;
So puts himself unto the shipman's toil,
With whom each minute threatens life or death.
Thal. [Aside.] Well, I perceive

Musings into my mind, a thousand doubts
How I might stop this tempest ere it came;
And finding little comfort to relieve them,

I thought it princely charity to grieve them.

Hel. Well, my lord, since you have given me

leave to speak,

Freely will I speak. Antiochus you fear,
And justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant,
Who either by public war, or private treason,
Will take away your life.

Therefore, my lord, go travel for a while,
Till that his rage and anger be forgot,
Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life.
Your rule direct to any; if to me,

Day serves not light more faithful than I'll be.

Per. I do not doubt thy faith; But should he wrong my liberties in my absence? Hel. We'll mingle our bloods together in the earth,

From whence we had our being and our birth.

Per. Tyre, I now look from thee, then; and to
Tharsus

Intend my travel, where I'll hear from thee,
And by whose letters I'll dispose myself.
The care I had, and have, of subjects' good,
On thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it.
I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath;
Who shuns not to break one, will sure crack both.
But in our orbs we live so round and safe,
That time of both this truth shall ne'er convince,
Thou show'dst a subject's shine, I a true prince.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Tyre. An Ante-chamber in the

Palace.

Enter THALIARD.

Thal. So, this is Tyre, and this is the court. Here must I kill king Pericles; and if I do not, I am sure to be hanged at home: 'tis dangerous. Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, that being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired he might know none of his secrets: now do I see he had some reason for it; for if a king bid a man be a villain, he is bound by the indenture of his oath to be one.-Hush! here come the lords of Tyre.

Enter HELICANUS, ESCANES, and other Lords.
Hel. 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. [Aside.] How! the king gone?
Hel. If further yet you will be satisfied,

He 'scap'd the land, to perish at the sea.-
I'll present myself.-[To them.] Peace to the

Enter CLEON, DIONYZA, and Attendants.

Cle. My Dionyza, shall we rest us here,
And by relating tales of other's griefs,
See if 'twill teach us to forget our own?

Dio. That were to blow at fire in hope to quench it;

For who dig 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 mischief's
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 the govern ment,

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 reveat.
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 :
Those 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 nousle up their babes
Thought nought 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 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,

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 favourers, 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, and what they can, 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.

[Exit.

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 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 veins) expecting overthrow, Are stor'd with corn to make your needy bread, And give them life whom hunger starv'd half dead.

All. 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 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. [Exeunt.

15

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 pass'd necessity.

I'll show 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 tidings to the contrary

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

Gow. Good Helicane hath stay'd 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' 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 'longs the text. (Ezil.

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

Enter PERICLES, wet.

Per. Yet cease your ire, you 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.

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 watery grave,
Here to have death in peace is all he'll crave.

Enter three Fishermen.

1 Fish. What, ho, Pilch!

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! comeaway, 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 the land, who never leave gaping, till they've swallowed the whole parish, church, steeple, bells and all.

Per. A pretty moral.

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 quoth-a? Now, gods forbid it! I have a gown here; come, put it on; keep thes warm. 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 flapjacks; 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 all your beggars were whipped, I would wish no better 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 labour!

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 he gains from

2 Fish. Why, man?

3 Fish. We would purge the land 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 watery 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 calendar, 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, entreats 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, gets 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.

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 joust and tourney for her love.

Per. Were my fortunes equal to my desires, I could 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 for. His wife's soul

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

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 armour.

Per. An armour, friends! I pray you, let me

see it.

Thanks, fortune, yet, that after all crosses Thou giv'st me somewhat to repair myself: 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,

The which the gods protect thee from! it may defend thee."

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, have given't again.
I thank thee for't: my shipwreck now's no ill,
Since I have here my father's gift in's will.

1 Fish. What mean you, sir?