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Lychorida, her nurse, she takes,
1 Sail, Slack the bowlines there; thou wilt not, And so to sea. Then, vessel shakes
wilt thou ?-Blow, and split thyself. On Neptune's billow; half the flood
2 Sail. But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy bilHath their keel cut; but fortune's mood
low kiss the moon, I care not. Varies again: the grizzly north
. Sir, your queen must overboard: the sea Disgorges such a tempest forth
works high, the wind is loud, and will not lie till the That, as a duck for life that dives,
ship be cleared of the dead. So up and down the poor ship drives.
Per. That's your superstition. The lady shrieks, and well-a-near,
1 Sail. Pardón us, sir ; with us at sea it hath been Does fall in travail with her fear:
still observed, and we are strong in earnest. There And what ensues in this self storm
fore briefly yield her, for she must overboard straight. Shall for itself itself perform.
Per. As you think meet.—Most wretched queen! I nill relate, action may
Lyc. Here she lies, sir. Conveniently the rest convey,
Per. A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my dear; Which might not what by me is told.
No light, no fire : the unfriendly elements In your imagination hold
Forgot thee utterly; nor have I time This stage the ship, upon whose deck
To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight
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.- Lychorida !
Upon the pillow. Hie thee, whiles I say
Per. I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this? Unheard.—Lychorida !-Lucina, O!
2 Sail. We are near Tharsus. Divinest patroness and midwife, gentle
Per. Thither, gentle mariner,
Per. O! make for Tharsus.-
There will I visit Cleon, for the babe
At careful nursing.–Go thy ways, good mariner: Am like to do. Take in your arms this piece I'll bring the body presently.
[Exetant. Of your dead queen. Per.
SCENE II.—Ephesus. A Room in Cerimon's
Enter Cerimon, a Servant, and some Persons who A little daughter: for the sake of it,
have been Shipwrecked. Be manly, and take comfort.
Cer. Philemon, ho!
Phil. Doth my lord call ?
It has been a turbulent and stormy night.
Serv. I have been in many; but such a night as this, Lyc. Patience, good sir,
Till now I ne'er endur'd. Even for this charge.
Cer. Your master will be dead ere you return: Per.
Now, mild may be thy life; There's nothing can be minister'd to nature, For a more blust'rous birth had never babe:
That can recover him. Give this to the 'pothecary, Quiet and gentle thy conditions;
And tell me how it works.
[To Philemos. For thou'rt the rudeliest welcome to this world,
[Exeunt Philemon, Servant, and the rest. That e'er was prince's child. Happy what follows !
Enter Two Gentlemen. Thou hast as chiding a nativity,
Good morrow, sir. As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make, 2 Gent. Good morrow to your lordship. To herald thee from the womb; even at the first,
Why do you stir so early ?
Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea,
Shook, as the earth did quake;
Per. Courage enough. I do not fear the flaw; And all to topple. Pure surprise and fear
2 Gent. That is the cause we trouble you so early; I would it would be quiet.
'Tis not our husbandry.
2 Gent. Most likely, sir. 1 Gent. But I much marvel that your lordship, Cer.
Nay, certainly to-night; having
For look, how fresh she looks.— They were too rough, Rich tire about you, should at these early hours That threw her in the sea. Make fire within : Shake off the golden slumber of repose.
Fetch hither all the boxes in my closet. 'Tis most strange,
Death may usurp on nature many hours, Nature should be so conversant with pain,
And yet the fire of life kindle again Being thereto not compellid.
The overpressed spirits. I heard Cer.
I hold it ever,
Of an Egyptian, that had nine hours lien dead,
Enter a Servant, with Boxes, Napkins, and Fire. May the two latter darken and expend;
Well said, well said; the fire and the cloths.But immortality attends the former,
The rough and woful music that we have, Making a man a god. 'Tis known, I ever
Cause it to sound, 'beseech you. Have studied physic, through which secret art, The vial once more;-how thou stirr'st, thou block !By turning o'er authorities, I have
The music there !- I pray you, give her air. (Together with my practice) made familiar
Gentlemen, To me and to my aid, the blest infusions
This queen will live : nature awakes a warm
Breath out of her: she hath not been entranc'd
The heavens Than to be thirsty after tottering honour,
Through you increase our wonder, and set up Or tie my treasure up in silken bags,
Your fame for ever. To please the fool and death.
She is alive! behold, 2 Gent. Your honour has through Ephesus pour'a Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels forth
Which Pericles hath lost, Your charity, and hundreds call themselves
Begin to part their fringes of bright gold: Your creatures, who by you have been restor'd: The diamonds of a most praised water And not your knowledge, your personal pain, but even Do appear to make the world twice rich. Live, Your purse, still open, hath built lord Cerimon And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature, Such strong renown as time shall never
Rare as you seem to be!
[She moves. Enter Two Servants with a Chest.
O dear Diana! Serv. So; lift there.
Where am I? Where's my lord ? What world is this? Cer. What is that?
2 Gent. Is not this strange ? Serv. Sir, even now 1 Gent.
Most rare. Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest:
Hush, gentle neighbours ! 'Tis of some wreck.
Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her. Cer.
Set it down ; let's look upon't. Get linen : now this matter must be look'd to, 2 Gent. 'Tis like a coffin, sir.
For her relapse is mortal. Come, come; Cer.
Whate'er it be, And Æsculapius guide us ! 'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight:
[Exeunt, carrying Thaisa out. If the sea's stomach be o'ercharg'd with gold,
SCENE III.-Tharsus. A Room in Cleon's House. 'Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us. 2 Gent. 'Tis so, my lord.
Enter Pericles, Cleon, Dionyza, LYCHORIDA, and
How close 'tis caulk'd and bitum'd. Did the sea cast it up?
Per. Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone : Serv. I never saw so huge a billow, sir,
My twelve months are expir'd, and Tyrus stands As toss'd it upon shore.
In a litigious peace. You, and your lady, Cer.
Come, wrench it
open. Take from my heart all thankfulness; the gods Soft, soft! it smells most sweetly in my sense.
Make up the rest upon you ! 2 Gent. A delicate odour.
Cle. Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you Cer. As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it.
mortally, O, you most potent gods! what's here? a corse ? Yet glance full wanderingly on us. i Gent. Most strange!
O, your sweet queen! Cer. Shrouded in cloth of state ; balm'd and en- That the strict fates had pleas'd you had brought her treasured
hither, With full bags of spices! A passport too:
To have bless'd mine eyes ! Apollo, perfect me i' the characters ! [Unfolds a Scroll. Per.
We cannot but obey
Could I “ Here I give to understand,
The powers above us. [Reads.
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, That even cracks for woe !—This chanc'd to-night. (For which the people's prayers still fall upon you)
Must in your child be thought on. If neglection Lychorida, no tears :
SCENE IV.—Ephesus. A Room in Cerimon's House.
Enter Cerimon and THAISA.
Cer. Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels,
Thai. It is my lord's. Unscissar'd shall this hair of mine remain,
That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember, Though I show will in't. So I take my leave. Even on my yearning time; but whether there Good madam, make me blessed in your care
Delivered or no, by the holy gods, In bringing up my child.
I cannot rightly say. But since king Pericles, Dion.
I have one myself, My wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again, Who shall not be more dear to my respect,
A vestal livery will I take me to, Than yours, my lord.
And never more have joy. Per.
Madam, my thanks and prayers. Cer. Madam, if this you purpose as you speak, Cle. We'll bring your grace even to the edge o' the Diana's temple is not distant far, shore;
Where you may abide till your date expire. Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune, and Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine The gentlest winds of heaven.
Shall there attend you. Per.
I will embrace
Thai. My recompense is thanks, that's all ; Your offer. Come, dear'st madam.-0! no tears, Yet my good will is great, though the gift small. (Eseunt.
And cursed Dionyza hath
The pregnant instrument of wrath
Prest for this blow. The unborn event His woful queen we leave at Ephesus,
I do commend to your content : Unto Diana there a votaress.
Only I carried winged time Now to Marina bend your mind,
Post on the lame feet of my rhyme; Whom our fast-growing scene must find
Which never could I so convey, At Tharsus, and by Cleon train'd
Unless your thoughts went on my way.-In music, letters; who hath gain'd
Diony za doth appear, Of education all the grace,
With Leonine, a murderer.
[Erit. Which makes her both the heart and place
SCENE I.—Tharsus. An open Place near the SeaOf general wonder. But alack !
shore. That monster envy, oft the wrack
Enter DIONYZA and LEONINE.
Dion. Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do't: And in this kind hath our Cleon
'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known. One daughter, and a wench full grown,
Thou canst not do a thing i' the world so soon, Even ripe for marriage rite: this maid
To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience, Hight Philoten; and it is said
Which is but cold, inflaming love in thy bosom, For certain in our story, she
Inflame too nicely; nor let pity, which Would ever with Marina be :
Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be Be't when she weav'd the sleided silk
A soldier to thy purpose. With fingers, long, small, white as milk;
Leon. I'll do't; but yet she is a goodly creature. Or when she would with sharp needle wound Dion. The fitter then the gods should have her. The cambric, which she made more sound
Here By hurting it; or when to the lute
She comes weeping for her old nurse's death. She sung, and made the night-bird mute,
Thou art resolv'd ? That still records with moan; or when
I am resolv'd. She would with rich and constant pen
Enter MARINA, with a Basket of Flowers. Vail to her mistress Dian ; still
Mar. No, I will rob Tellus of her weed, This Philoten contends in skill
To strew thy grave with flowers: the yellows, blues, With absolute Marina: so
The purple violets, and marigolds,
While summer days do last. Ah me, poor maid ! All praises, which are paid as debts,
Born in a tempest, when my mother died, And not as given. This so darks
This world to me is like a lasting storm, In Philoten all graceful marks,
Whirring me from my friends. That Cleon's wife, with envy rare,
Dion. How now, Marina! why do you weep alone! A present murderer does prepare
How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not For good Marina, that her daughter
blood with sorrowing: you have Might stand peerless by this slaughter.
A nurse of me. Lord! how your favour's chang'd The sooner her vile thoughts to stead,
With this unprofitable woe. Come, come; Lychorida, our nurse, is dead :
Give me your flowers, ere the sea mar it.
Walk with Leonine; the air is quick there,
And save poor me, the weaker.
I am sworn,
Enter Pirates, whilst Marina is struggling.
1 Pirate. Hold, villain ! [LEONINE runs away. Dion.
2 Pirate. A prize! a prize! I love the king your father, and yourself,
3 Pirate. Half-part, mates, half-part. Come, let's have With more than foreign heart. We every day her aboard suddenly
..[Exeunt Pirates with Marina. Expect him here: when he shall come, and find
SCENE II.- Near the Same.
Valdes; Walk, and be cheerful once again : reserve
And they have seiz'd Marina. Let her go: That excellent complexion, which did steal
There's no hope she'll return. I'll swear she's dead, The eyes of young and old. Care not for me; And thrown into the sea.—But I'll see farther; I can go home alone.
Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her, Mar. Well, I will go;
Not carry her aboard. If she remain, But yet I have no desire to it.
Whom they have ravish'd must by me be slain. [Exit. Dion. Come, come, I know 'tis good for you.
SCENE III.-Mitylene. A Room in a Brothel. Walk half an hour, Leonine, at least. Remember what I have said.
Enter Pander, Bawd, and Boult. Leon.
I warrant you, madam. Pand. Boult. Dion. I'll leave you, my sweet lady, for a while. Boult. Sir. Pray you walk softly, do not heat your blood : Pand. Search the market narrowly; Mitylene is full What! I must have care of you.
of gallants: we lost too much money this mart, by Mar. Thanks, sweet madam.- [Exit Dionyza. being too wenchless. Is the wind westerly that blows?
Bawd. We were never so much out of creatures. Leon.
South-west. We have but poor three, and they can do no more Mar. When I was born, the wind was north. than they can do; and they with continual action are Leon.
Was't so? even as good as rotten. Mar. My father, as nurse said, did never fear, Pand. Therefore, let's have fresh ones, whate'er we But cry'd good seamen !” to the sailors, galling pay for them. If there be not a conscience to be used His kingly hands hauling ropes;
in every trade, we shall never prosper. And, clasping to the mast, endur'd a sea
Bawd. Thou say'st true: 'tis not the bringing up That almost burst the deck.
of poor bastards, as I think, I have brought up some Leon. When was this?
elevenMar. When I was born:
Boult. Ay, to eleven; and brought them down again. Never were waves nor wind more violent;
But shall I search the market? And from the ladder-tackle washes off
Bawd. What else, man? The stuff we have, a A canvass-climber. “Ha!" says one, “wilt out?” strong wind will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully And with a dropping industry they skip
sodden. From stem to stern : the boatswain whistles, and Pand. Thou say'st true; they're too un wh ome o' The master calls, and trebles their confusion. conscience. The poor Transilvanian is dead, that lay Leon. Come; say your prayers.
with the little baggage. Mar.
What mean you? Boult. Ay, she quickly pooped him; she made him Leon. If you require a little space for prayer,
roast-meat for worms. But I'll go search the market. I grant it. Pray; but be not tedious,
[Exit Boult. For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn
Pand. Three or four thousand chequins were as To do my work with baste.
pretty a proportion to live quietly, and so give over. Mar.
Why will you kill me? Bawd. Why, to give over, I pray you? is it a shame Leon. To satisfy my lady.
to get when we are old ? Mar. Why would she have me kill'd?
Pand. O! our credit comes not in like the comNow as I can remember, by my troth,
modity; nor the commodity wages not with the danger: I never did her hurt in all my life.
therefore, if in our youths we could pick up some I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn
pretty estate, 'twere not amiss to keep our door hatched. To any living creature: believe me, la,
Besides, the sore terms we stand upon with the gods I never kill'd a mouse, nor hurt a fly:
will be strong with us for giving over. I trod upon a worm against my will,
Bawd. Come; other sorts offend as well as we. But I wept for it. How have I offended,
Pand. As well as we? ay, and better too; we offend Wherein my death might yield her profit, or
worse. Neither is our profession any trade; it's no My life imply her any danger?
calling. But here comes Boult. Leon.
Enter Boult, and the Pirates with MARINA. Is not to reason of the deed, but do it.
Boult. Come your ways. My masters, you say she's Mar. You will not do't for all the world, I hope. a virgin ? You are well favour'd, and your looks foreshow
1 Pirate. 0, sir! we doubt it not. You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately,
Boult. Master, I have gone thorough for this piece, When you caught hurt in parting two that fought: you see: if you like her, so; if not, I have lost my Good sooth, it show'd well in you: do so now:
earnest. Your lady seeks my life; come you between,
Bawd. Boult, has she any qualities?
Boult. She has a good face, speaks well, and has ex- Bawd. Pray you, come hither awhile. You have cellent good clothes: there's no farther necessity of fortunes coming upon you. Mark me: you must seem qualities can make her be refused.
to do that fearfully, which you commit willingly; to Bawd. What's ber price, Boult?
despise profit, where you have most gain.
To seep Boult. I cannot be bated one doit of a thousand pieces. that you live as you do makes pity in your lovers:
Pand. Well, follow me, my masters, you shall have seldom, but that pity begets you a good opinion, and your money presently. Wife, take her in : instruct that opinion a mere profit. her what she has to do, that she may not be raw in her Mar. I understand you not. entertainment.
[Exeunt Pander and Pirates. Boult. O! take her home, mistress, take her home : Bawd. Boult, take you the marks of her; the colour these blushes of her's must be quenched with some of her hair, complexion, height, her age, with warrant present practice. of her virginity, and cry, * He that will give most,
Bawd. Thou say'st true, i' faith, so they must; for shall have her first.” Such a maidenhead were no your bride goes to that with shame, which is her way! cheap thing, if men were as they have been. Get this to go with warrant. done as I command you.
Boult. Faith, some do, and some do not. But, mis Boult. Performance shall follow. [Exit Boult. tress, if I have bargained for the joint,
Mar. Alack, that Leonine was so slack, so slow! Bawd. Thou may'st cut a morsel off the spit. He should have struck, not spoke; or that these pirates, Boult. I may so ? (Not enough barbarous) had not o'erboard thrown me Bawd. Who should deny it? Come, young one, I For to seek my mother!
like the manner of your garments well. Bawd. Why lament you, pretty one?
Boult. Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet. Mar. That I am pretty.
Bawd. Boult, spend thou that in the town : report Bawd. Come, the gods have done their part in you. 'what a sojourner we have ; you'll lose nothing by Mar. I accuse them not.
custom. When nature framed this piece, she meant Bawd. You are lit into my hands, where you are thee a good turn; therefore, say what a paragon she is, like to live.
and thou hast the harvest out of thine own report. Mar. The more my fault,
Boult. I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so To 'scape his hands where I was like to die.
awake the beds of eels, as my giving out her beauty Bawd. Ay, and you shall live in pleasure. stir up the lewdly inclined. I'll bring home some toMar. No.
night. Bawd. Yes, indeed, shall you, and taste gentlemen Bawd. Come your ways ; follow me. of all fashions. You shall fare well : you shall have Mar. If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep, the difference of all complexions. What! do you stop Untied I still my virgin knot will keep. your ears?
Diana, qid my purpose! Mar. Are you a woman?
Bawd. What have we to do with Diana ? Pray you, Bawd. What would you have me be, an I be not a will you go with us ?
SCENE IV.-Tharsus. A Room in Cleon's House. Mar. An honest woman, or not a woman. Bawd. Marry, whip thee, gosling : I think I shall
Enter Cleon and Dionyza. have something to do with you. Come, you are a Dion. Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone ? young foolish sapling, and must be bowed as I would Cle. O Dionyza! such a piece of slaughter
The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon. Mar. The gods defend me!
I think, Bawd. If it please the gods to defend you by men, You'll turn a child again. then men must comfort you, men must feed you, men Cle. Were I chief lord of all this spacious world, stir you up.-Boult's returned.
I'd give it to undo the deed. O lady!
Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess
. I have cried her almost to the number of her l' the justice of compare ! O villain Leonine ! hairs : I have drawn her picture with my voice. Whom thou hast poison'd too.
Bawd. And I pr’ythee, tell me, how dost thou find If thou hadst drunk to him, it had been a kindness the inclination of the people, especially of the younger Becoming well thy face: what canst thou say, sort?
When noble Pericles
shall demand his child ? Boult. Faith, they listened to me, as they would Dion. That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates, have hearkened to their father's testament. There was To foster it, nor ever to preserve. a Spaniard's mouth so watered, that he went to bed to She died at night; I'll say so. Who can cross it, her very description.
Unless you play the pious innocent, Bawd. We shall have him here to-morrow with his And for an honest attribute, cry out, best ruff on.
“She died by foul play?" Boult. To-night, to-night. But, mistress, do you Cle.
O! go to. Well, well ; know the French knight that cowers i' the hams? Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods Bawd. Who? monsieur Veroles ?
Do like this worst. Boult. Ay: he offered to cut a caper at the pro- Dion.
Be one of those, that think clamation; but he made a groan at it, and swore he The pretty wrens of Tharsus will fly hence, would see her to-morrow.
And open this to Pericles. I do shame Bawd. Well, well; as for him, he brought his disease To think of what a noble strain you are, hither: here he does but repair it. I know, he will And of how coward a spirit. come in our shadow, to scatter his crowns in the sun. Cle.
To such proceeding Boult. Well, if we had of every nation a traveller, Who ever but his approbation added, we should lodge them with this sign.
Though not his pre-consent, he did not flow