'Tis most strange, Nature should be so conversant with pain, Being thereto not compell'd. Cer. Have studied physic, through which secret art, 2 Gent. Most likely, sir. Cer. Nay, certainly to-night; Of an Egyptian, that had nine hours lien dead, Enter a Servant, with Boxes, Napkins, and Fire. The vial once more;-how thou stirr'st, thou block!— This queen will live nature awakes a warm 2 Gent. Your honour has through Ephesus pour'd Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels forth Your charity, and hundreds call themselves Enter Two Servants with a Chest. Serv. So; lift there. Cer. Set it down; let's look upon't. 2 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. 2 Gent. 'Tis so, my lord. Cer. How close 'tis caulk'd and bitum'd. Did the sea cast it up? Serv. I never saw so huge a billow, sir, As toss'd it upon shore. Cer. Come, wrench it open. Soft, soft! it smells most sweetly in my sense. 2 Gent. A delicate odour. Cer. As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it. O, you most potent gods! what's here? a corse? 1 Gent. Most strange! Cer. Shrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and entreasured With full bags of spices! A passport too: Apollo, perfect me i' the characters! [Unfolds a Scroll. "Here I give to understand, (If e'er this coffin drive a-land) I, king Pericles, have lost [Reads. This queen, worth all our mundane cost. If thou liv'st, Pericles, thou hast a heart Which Pericles hath lost, Begin to part their fringes of bright gold: Most rare. Hush, gentle neighbours! Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her. [Exeunt, carrying THAISA out. SCENE III.-Tharsus. A Room in CLEON'S House. Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, LYCHORIDA, and MARINA. 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. We cannot but obey Must in your child be thought on. If neglection Per. Dion. Madam, my thanks and prayers. Cle. We'll bring your grace even to the edge o' the shore ; Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune, and Per. I will embrace Your offer. Come, dear'st madam.-O! no tears, Enter GoWER. Gow. Imagine Pericles arriv'd at Tyre, Which makes her both the heart and place Lychorida, no tears: Look to your little mistress, on whose grace Cer. Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels, Lay with you in your coffer, which are At your command. Know you the character? That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember, I cannot rightly say. But since king Pericles, And never more have joy. Cer. Madam, if this you purpose as you speak, Where you may abide till your date expire. Thai. My recompense is thanks, that's all; ACT IV. Be't when she weav'd the sleided silk That Cleon's wife, with envy rare, A present murderer does prepare For good Marina, that her daughter Might stand peerless by this slaughter. The sooner her vile thoughts to stead, Lychorida, our nurse, is dead: Enter DIONYZA and LEONINE. Dion. Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do't: Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be Leon. I'll do't; but yet she is a goodly creature. Enter MARINA, with a Basket of Flowers. Mar. No, I will rob Tellus of her weed, To strew thy grave with flowers: the yellows, blues, Shall, as a carpet, hang upon thy grave, Dion. How now, Marina! why do you weep alone? How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not Consume your blood with sorrowing: you have A nurse of me. Lord! how your favour's chang'd Walk with Leonine; the air is quick there, I'll not bereave you of your servant. Dion. Come, come; He will repent the breadth of his great voyage; Well, I will go; Dion. Come, come, I know 'tis good for you.- Leon. Mar. Pand. Search the market narrowly; Mitylene is full of gallants we lost too much money this mart, by Thanks, sweet madam.-[Exit DIONYZA. being too wenchless. Is the wind westerly that blows? Leon. South-west. Mar. My father, as nurse said, did never fear, But cry'd "good seamen!" to the sailors, galling His kingly hands hauling ropes; And, clasping to the mast, endur'd a sea Leon. When was this? Mar. When I was born: Never were waves nor wind more violent; A canvass-climber. "Ha!" says one, "wilt out?" From stem to stern: the boatswain whistles, and The master calls, and trebles their confusion. Leon. Come; say your prayers. Mar. What mean you? Leon. If you require a little space for prayer, I grant it. Pray; but be not tedious, For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn To do my work with haste. Mar. Why will you kill me? Leon. To satisfy my lady. I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn My commission Is not to reason of the deed, but do it. Mar. You will not do't for all the world, I hope. You are well favour'd, and your looks foreshow You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately, When you caught hurt in parting two that fought: Good sooth, it show'd well in you: do so now: Your lady seeks my life; come you between, Bawd. We were never so much out of creatures. We have but poor three, and they can do no more than they can do; and they with continual action are even as good as rotten. Pand. Therefore, let's have fresh ones, whate'er we pay for them. If there be not a conscience to be used in every trade, we shall never prosper. Bawd. Thou say'st true: 'tis not the bringing up of poor bastards, as I think, I have brought up some eleven Boult. Ay, to eleven; and brought them down again. But shall I search the market? Bawd. What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong wind will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully sodden. Pand. Thou say'st true; they're too un wholesome o' conscience. The poor Transilvanian is dead, that lay with the little baggage. Boult. Ay, she quickly pooped him; she made him roast-meat for worms. But I'll go search the market. [Exit BOULT. Pand. Three or four thousand chequins were as pretty a proportion to live quietly, and so give over. Bawd. Why, to give over, I pray you? is it a shame to get when we are old? Pand. O! our credit comes not in like the commodity; nor the commodity wages not with the danger: therefore, if in our youths we could pick up some pretty estate, 'twere not amiss to keep our door hatched. Besides, the sore terms we stand upon with the gods will be strong with us for giving over. Bawd. Come; other sorts offend as well as we. Pand. As well as we? ay, and better too; we offend worse. Neither is our profession any trade; it's no calling. But here comes Boult. Enter BOULT, and the Pirates with MARINA. Boult. Come your ways. My masters, you say she's a virgin? 1 Pirate. O, sir! we doubt it not. Boult. Master, I have gone thorough for this piece, you see if you like her, so; if not, I have lost my earnest. Bawd. Boult, has she any qualities? Boult. She has a good face, speaks well, and has excellent good clothes: there's no farther necessity of qualities can make her be refused. Bawd. What's her price, Boult? Boult. I cannot be bated one doit of a thousand pieces. Pand. Well, follow me, my masters, you shall have your money presently. Wife, take her in: instruct her what she has to do, that she may not be raw in her entertainment. [Exeunt Pander and Pirates. Bawd. Boult, take you the marks of her; the colour of her hair, complexion, height, her age, with warrant of her virginity, and cry, "He that will give most, shall have her first." Such a maidenhead were no cheap thing, if men were as they have been. Get this done as I command you. Boult. Performance shall follow. [Exit BoULT. Mar. Alack, that Leonine was so slack, so slow! He should have struck, not spoke; or that these pirates, (Not enough barbarous) had not o'erboard thrown me For to seek my mother! Bawd. Why lament you, pretty one? Bawd. Come, the gods have done their part in you. Bawd. You are lit into my hands, where you are like to live. Mar. Are you a woman? You have Bawd. Pray you, come hither awhile. fortunes coming upon you. Mark me: you must seem to do that fearfully, which you commit willingly; to despise profit, where you have most gain. To weep that you live as you do makes pity in your lovers: seldom, but that pity begets you a good opinion, and that opinion a mere profit. Mar. I understand you not. Boult. O! take her home, mistress, take her home: these blushes of her's must be quenched with some present practice. Bawd. Thou say'st true, i' faith, so they must; for your bride goes to that with shame, which is her way to go with warrant. Boult. Faith, some do, and some do not. But, mistress, if I have bargained for the joint,— Bawd. Thou may'st cut a morsel off the spit. Bawd. Who should deny it? Come, young one, I like the manner of your garments well. Boult. Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet. Bawd. Boult, spend thou that in the town: report what a sojourner we have; you'll lose nothing by custom. When nature framed this piece, she meant thee a good turn; therefore, say what a paragon she is, and thou hast the harvest out of thine own report. Boult. I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake the beds of eels, as my giving out her beauty stir up the lewdly inclined. I'll bring home some tonight. Bawd. Come your ways; follow me. Mar. If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep, Untied I still my virgin knot will keep. Diana, aid my purpose! 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? woman? Mar. An honest woman, or not a woman. Bawd. Marry, whip thee, gosling: I think I shall have something to do with you. Come, you are a young foolish sapling, and must be bowed as I would have you. Mar. The gods defend me! Bawd. If it please the gods to defend you by men, then men must comfort you, men must feed you, men stir you up.-Boult's returned. Re-enter BOULT. Now, sir, hast thou cried her through the market? Boult. I have cried her almost to the number of her hairs: I have drawn her picture with my voice. Bawd. And I pr'ythee, tell me, how dost thou find the inclination of the people, especially of the younger sort? Boult. Faith, they listened to me, as they would have hearkened to their father's testament. There was a Spaniard's mouth so watered, that he went to bed to her very description. Bawd. We shall have him here to-morrow with his best ruff on. Boult. To-night, to-night. But, mistress, do you know the French knight that cowers i' the hams? Bawd. Who? monsieur Veroles? Boult. Ay: he offered to cut a caper at the proclamation; but he made a groan at it, and swore he would see her to-morrow. Bawd. Well, well; as for him, he brought his disease hither: here he does but repair it. I know, he will come in our shadow, to scatter his crowns in the sun. Boult. Well, if we had of every nation a traveller, we should lodge them with this sign. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Tharsus. A Room in CLEON'S House. Enter CLEON and DIONYZA. Dion. Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone? Cle. O Dionyza! such a piece of slaughter The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon. Dion. You'll turn a child again. I think, Cle. Were I chief lord of all this spacious world, I'd give it to undo the deed. O lady! Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess To equal any single crown o' the earth, I' the justice of compare! O villain Leonine ! Whom thou hast poison'd too. If thou hadst drunk to him, it had been a kindness Becoming well thy face: what canst thou say, When noble Pericles shall demand his child? Dion. That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates, To foster it, nor ever to preserve. She died at night; I'll say so. Unless you play the pious innocent, And for an honest attribute, cry out, "She died by foul play?" Who can cross it, Cle. Dion. Cle. J Be it so, then; From honourable courses. It greets me as an enterprise of kindness, Cle. Dion. And as for Pericles, Heavens forgive it! What should he say? We wept after her hearse, And even yet we mourn her monument Is almost finish'd, and her epitaphs In glittering golden characters express A general praise to her, and care in us Dion. You are like one, that superstitiously Tharsus. Gow. Thus time we waste, and longest leagues Sail seas in cockles, have, and wish but for't; Is now again thwarting the wayward seas, This king to Tharsus, (think this pilot thought, Enter PERICLES with his Train, at one door; CLEON and DIONYZA at the other. CLEON shows PERICLES the Tomb of MARINA; whereat PERICLES makes lamentation, puts on Sackcloth, and in a mighty passion departs. Gow. See, how belief may suffer by foul show. The borrow'd passion stands for true old woe; And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd, With sighs shot through, and biggest tears o'er show'r'd, Leaves Tharsus, and again embarks. He swears "The fairest, sweet'st, and best, lies here, She was of Tyrus, the king's daughter, So well as soft and tender flattery. By lady fortune; while our scene must play [Exit. His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day, SCENE V.-Mitylene. A Street before the Brothel. 1 Gent. Did you ever hear the like? 2 Gent. No; nor never shall do in such a place as this, she being once gone. 1 Gent. But to have divinity preached there, did you ever dream of such a thing? 2 Gent. No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdyhouses. Shall we go hear the vestals sing? 1 Gent. I'll do any thing now that is virtuous; but I am out of the road of rutting for ever. [Exeunt. SCENE VI.-The Same. A Room in the Brothel. Enter Pander, Bawd, and BOULT. Pand. Well, I had rather than twice the worth of her, she had ne'er come here. Bawd. Fie, fie upon her! she is able to freeze the god Priapus, and undo a whole generation we must either get her ravished, or be rid of her. When she should do for clients her fitment, and do me the kindness of our profession, she has me her quirks, her reasons, her master reasons, her prayers, her knees, that she would make a puritan of the devil, if he should cheapen a kiss of her. Boult. Faith, I must ravish her, or she'll disfurnish us of all our cavaliers, and make all our swearers priests. Pand. Now, the pox upon her green-sickness for me! Bawd. 'Faith, there's no way to be rid on't, but by the way to the pox. Here comes the lord Lysimachus, disguised. Boult. We should have both lord and lown, if the peevish baggage would but give way to customers. Enter LYSIMACHUS. Lys. How now! How a dozen of virginities? Bawd. Now, the gods to-bless your honour! Boult. I am glad to see your honour in good health. Lys. You may so; 'tis the better for you that your resorters stand upon sound legs. How now, wholesome iniquity! have you that a man may deal withal, and defy the surgeon? Bawd. We have here one, sir, if she would-but there never came her like in Mitylene. Lys. If she'd do the deeds of darkness, thou would'st say. Bawd. Your honour knows what 'tis to say, well enough. Lys. Well; call forth, call forth. |