PERICLES

by Shakespeare · Cluster: Blank Verse · Tragicomedy · Romance Play

Abstract

A late dramatic romance (with George Wilkins) tracing Pericles’ wanderings, shipwrecks, the loss and miraculous reunion with his daughter Marina and wife; central to it are the quest/sea-journey, suffering and patience, and providential restoration of the family.

Capitoli / Chapters

• Scene 1
• Scene 2
• Scene 3
• Scene 4
• Scene 5
• Scene 6
• Scene 7
• Scene 8
• Scene 9
• Scene 10
• Scene 11
• Scene 12
• Scene 13
• Scene 14
• Scene 15
• Scene 16
• Scene 17
• Scene 18
• Scene 19
• Scene 20
• Scene 21
• Scene 22

Connections

Topoi: Quest, Fortune’s Wheel Archetypes: Pilgrim, Outsider, Innocent Motifs: Sea, Storm, Journey Themes & Concepts: Grief and Loss, Providence, Grace and Redemption, Fate and Free Will Forms & Genres: Romance Play, Narrative Poem, Blank Verse Settings: Sea (2) Characters: Pericles, Marina, Thaisa, Gower, Cleon, Dionyza, Simonides, Antiochus

Testo integrale / Full text

Chi parla	Battuta
BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AND	GEORGE WILKINS A RECONSTRUCTED TEXT
ON	20 May 1608 Pericles was entered on the Stationers’ Register to Edward Blount; but he did not publish it. Probably the players allowed him to license it in the hope of preventing its publication by anyone else, for it was one of the most popular plays of the period. Its success was exploited, also in 1608, by the publication of a novel, by George Wilkins, ‘The Painful Adventures of Pericles Prince of Tyre, Being the True History of the Play of Pericles, as it was lately presented by the worthy and ancient poet John Gower’. The play itself appeared in print in the following year, with an ascription to Shakespeare, but in a manifestly corrupt text that gives every sign of having been put together from memory. This quarto was several times reprinted, but the play was not included in the 1623 Folio (perhaps because Heminges and Condell knew that Shakespeare was responsible for only part of it). In putting together The Painful Adventures, Wilkins drew on an earlier version of the tale, The Pattern of Painful Adventures, by Laurence Twine, written in the mid-1570s and reprinted in 1607. Twine’s book is also a source of the play, which draws too on the story of Apollonius of Tyre as told by John Gower in his Confessio Amantis, and, to a lesser extent, on Sir Philip Sidney’s Arcadia. Wilkins not only incorporated verbatim passages from Twine’s book, he also drew heavily on Pericles itself. Since the play text is so corrupt, it is quite likely that Wilkins reports parts of it both more accurately and more fully than the quarto. And he may have had special qualifications for doing so. He was a dramatist whose popular play The Miseries of Enforced Marriage had been performed by Shakespeare’s company. Pericles has usually been regarded as either a collaborative play or one in which Shakespeare revised a pre-existing script. Our edition is based on the hypothesis (not new) that Wilkins was its joint author. Our attempt to reconstruct the play draws more heavily than is usual on Wilkins’s novel, especially in the first nine scenes (which he probably wrote); in general, because of its obvious corruption, the original text is more freely emended than usual. So that readers may experience the play as originally printed, an unemended reprint of the 1609 quarto is given in our original-spelling edition. The deficiencies of the text are in part compensated for by the survival of an unusual amount of relevant visual material, reproduced overleaf. The complex textual background of Pericles should not be allowed to draw attention away from the merits of this dramatic romance, which we hope will be more apparent as the result of our treatment of the text. If the original play had survived, it might well have been as highly valued as The Winter’s Tale or The Tempest; as it is, it contains some hauntingly beautiful episodes, above all that in Scene 21 in which Marina, Pericles’ long-lost daughter, draws him out of the comatose state to which his sufferings have reduced him. 14. From the title-page of The Painful Adventures of Pericles Prince of Tyre (1608), by George Wilkins; artist unknown. Since Gower is not a character in Wilkins’s novel, the choice of woodcut undoubtedly reflects both the play’s popularity and Gower’s own impact in early performances, and it is as likely to reflect the visual detail of performance as any early title-page. The sprig of laurel (or posy) in Gower’s left hand is symbolic of his poetic status. 15. From Greene’s Vision (1592), sig. CIr―CIv; probably by Robert Greene. The description here fits reasonably well the Painful Adventures title-page, though the woodcut does not contain the ‘bag of red’, ‘napkin’, or tight-fitting ‘breech’. 16. Severed heads displayed on the gate of London Bridge, from an etching by Claes Jan Visscher (1616). In the play’s sources, and Painful Adventures, the heads of previous suitors (Sc. 1) are placed on the ’gate’ of Antioch. In performance they could have been thrust out on poles from the upper stage; but the timing and method of their display is not clear. 17. From The Heroical Devices of M. Claudius Paradin, translated by P.S. (1591), sig. V3. This is the source for the impresa of the Third Knight, in Sc. 6. 18. From The Heroical Devices of M. Claudius Paradin, translated by P.S. (1591), sig. Z3. This is the source for the impresa of the Fourth Knight, in Sc. 6. 19. An Inigo Jones sketch of Diana, probably for Ben Jonson’s masque Time Vindicated (1623). The goddess of chastity appeared as a character in court entertainments, masques, and plays, and her representation was governed by iconographic convention. As goddess of hunting, she was most often identified by her ‘silver bow’ (21.234). In Thomas Heywood’s The Golden Age (1611), stage directions refer to ‘Diana’s bow’ (sig. EIv) and her ‘buskins’ (sig. E3v); her ‘nymphs’ explicitly, and by inference she, have ‘garlands on their heads, and javelins in their hands … bows and quivers’ (sig. D3v). The bow, quiver, and javelin, all visible in Jones’s sketch, were commonplace in emblematic representations. As a huntress, Diana could naturally be envisaged in a chariot: in Aurelian Townshend’s masque Albion’s Triumph (1631), she descends ‘in her chariot’ (pp. 2, 12); in Time Vindicated, ‘Diana descends’ (1. 446). Such descents for deities were used in the public theatres, too, usually in a chair or chariot (21.224.2). 20. A miniature of Diana by Isaac Oliver (1615): the dress is yellow, the scarf a gauzy pink-white, the cloak over her right shoulder blue; the leaf-shaped brooch topped by the crescent moon, gold. In Samuel Daniel’s masque The Vision of the Twelve Goddesses (1604), ‘Diana, in a green mantle embroidered with silver half moons, and a crescent of pearl on her head, presents a bow and quiver’ (sig. A5). The ‘crescent of pearl’—an ornamental crescent moon, also detectable in Jones’s sketch—can be seen in many emblematic representations of the goddess. 21. For the pastoral Florimène (1635), Inigo Jones designed two scenic views of ’The Temple of Diana’ (see 1. 22.17.1). Though such scenes were not used in the public theatres in Shakespeare’s time, the columns supporting the overhanging roof of the public stage (see General Introduction, pp. xxvii-xxix) could have created a scenic effect roughly similar to Jones’s recessed classical temple. Statues were also available as props in the public theatre; in Pericles, as in The Winter’s Tale, the statue could have been impersonated by an actor on a pedestal. Whether or not a statue was visible, the temple could be identified by an altar (as in The Two Noble Kinsmen).
THE PERSONS OF THE	PLAY John GOWER, the Presenter ANTIOCHUS, King of Antioch His DAUGHTER THALIART, a villain PERICLES, Prince of Tyre MARINA, Pericles’ daughter CLEON, Governor of Tarsus DIONIZA, his wife LEONINE, a murderer
KING	SIMONIDES, of Pentapolis THAISA, his daughter Three FISHERMEN, his subjects Five PRINCES, suitors of Thaisa A MARSHAL LYCHORIDA, Thaisa’s nurse CERIMON, a physician of Ephesus PHILEMON, his servant LYSIMACHUS, Governor of Mytilene A BAWD A PANDER BOULT, a leno DIANA, goddess of chastity Lords, ladies, pages, messengers, sailors, gentlemen A Reconstructed Text of Pericles, Prince of Tyre Sc. 1
(didascalia)	Enter Gower as Prologue
GOWER	To sing a song that old was sung From ashes ancient Gower is come, Assuming man’s infirmities To glad your ear and please your eyes. It hath been sung at festivals, On ember-eves and holy-ales, And lords and ladies in their lives Have read it for restoratives. The purchase is to make men glorious, Et bonum quo antiquius eo melius. If you, born in these latter times When wit’s more ripe, accept my rhymes, And that to hear an old man sing May to your wishes pleasure bring, I life would wish, and that I might Waste it for you like taper-light. This’ Antioch, then; Antiochus the Great Built up this city for his chiefest seat, The fairest in all Syria. I tell you what mine authors say. This king unto him took a fere Who died, and left a female heir So buxom, blithe, and full of face As heav’n had lent her all his grace, With whom the father liking took, And her to incest did provoke. Bad child, worse father, to entice his own To evil should be done by none. By custom what they did begin Was with long use account’ no sin. The beauty of this sinful dame Made many princes thither frame To seek her as a bedfellow, In marriage pleasures playfellow, Which to prevent he made a law To keep her still, and men in awe, That whoso asked her for his wife, His riddle told not, lost his life. So for her many a wight did die,
(didascalia)	A row of heads is revealed
GOWER	As yon grim looks do testify. What now ensues, to th’ judgement of your eye I give, my cause who best can justify. Exit
(didascalia)	Sennet. Enter King Antiochus, Prince Pericles, and lords and peers in their richest ornaments
ANTIOCHUS	Young Prince of Tyre, you have at large received The danger of the task you undertake.
PERICLES	I have, Antiochus, and with a soul Emboldened with the glory of her praise Think death no hazard in this enterprise.
ANTIOCHUS	Music!
(didascalia)	Music sounds
ANTIOCHUS	Bring in our daughter, clothèd like a bride Fit for th’embracements ev’n of Jove himself, At whose conception, till Lucina reigned, Nature this dowry gave to glad her presence: The senate-house of planets all did sit, In her their best perfections to knit.
(didascalia)	Enter Antiochus’ Daughter
PERICLES	See where she comes, apparelled like the spring, Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king Of ev’ry virtue gives renown to men; Her face the book of praises, where is read Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence Sorrow were ever razed and testy wrath Could never be her mild companion. You gods that made me man, and sway in love, That have inflamed desire in my breast To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree Or die in the adventure, be my helps, As I am son and servant to your will, To compass such a boundless happiness.
ANTIOCHUS	Prince Pericles—
PERICLES	That would be son to great Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS	Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, With golden fruit, but dang’rous to be touched,
(didascalia)	He gestures towards the heads
ANTIOCHUS	For death-like dragons here affright thee hard.
(didascalia)	He gestures towards his daughter
ANTIOCHUS	Her heav‘n-like face enticeth thee to view Her countless glory, which desert must gain; And which without desert, because thine eye Presumes to reach, all the whole heap must die. Yon sometimes famous princes, like thyself Drawn by report, advent’rous by desire, Tell thee with speechless tongues and semblants bloodless That without covering save yon field of stars Here they stand, martyrs slain in Cupid’s wars, And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist From going on death’s net, whom none resist.
PERICLES	Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught My frail mortality to know itself, And by those fearful objects to prepare This body, like to them, to what I must; For death remembered should be like a mirror Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error. I’ll make my will then, and, as sick men do, Who know the world, see heav‘n, but feeling woe Grip not at earthly joys as erst they did, So I bequeath a happy peace to you And all good men, as ev’ry prince should do; My riches to the earth from whence they came, (To the Daughter) But my unspotted fire of love to you. (To Antiochus) Thus ready for the way of life or death, I wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus.
ANTIOCHUS	Scorning advice, read the conclusion then,
(didascalia)	He angrily throws down the riddle
ANTIOCHUS	Which read and not expounded, ’tis decreed, As these before thee, thou thyself shalt bleed.
DAUGHTER	(to Pericles) Of all ‘sayed yet, mayst thou prove prosperous; Of all ’sayed yet, I wish thee happiness.
PERICLES	Like a bold champion I assume the lists, Nor ask advice of any other thought But faithfulness and courage.
(didascalia)	He takes up and reads aloud the riddle
PERICLES	I am no viper, yet I feed On mother’s flesh which did me breed. I sought a husband, in which labour I found that kindness in a father. He’s father, son, and husband mild; I mother, wife, and yet his child. How this may be and yet in two, As you will live resolve it you.
(didascalia)	Sharp physic is the last. Aside But O, you powers
PERICLES	That gives heav’n countless eyes to view men’s acts, Why cloud they not their sights perpetually If this be true which makes me pale to read it?
(didascalia)	He gazes on the Daughter
PERICLES	Fair glass of light, I loved you, and could still, Were not this glorious casket stored with ill. But I must tell you now my thoughts revolt, For he’s no man on whom perfections wait That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate. You’re a fair viol, and your sense the strings Who, fingered to make man his lawful music, Would draw heav’n down and all the gods to hearken, But, being played upon before your time, Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime. Good sooth, I care not for you.
ANTIOCHUS	Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life, For that’s an article within our law As dang’rous as the rest. Your time’s expired. Either expound now, or receive your sentence.
PERICLES	Great King, Few love to hear the sins they love to act. ‘Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it. Who has a book of all that monarchs do, He’s more secure to keep it shut than shown, For vice repeated, like the wand’ring wind, Blows dust in others’ eyes to spread itself; And yet the end of all is bought thus dear, The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts Copped hills towards heav’n to tell the earth is thronged By man’s oppression, and the poor worm doth die for’t. Kings are earth’s gods; in vice their law’s their will, And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill? It is enough you know, and it is fit, What being more known grows worse, to smother it. All love the womb that their first being bred; Then give my tongue like leave to love my head.
ANTIOCHUS	(aside) Heav’n, that I had thy head! He’s found the meaning. But I will gloze with him.—Young Prince of Tyre, Though by the tenor of our strict edict, Your exposition misinterpreting, We might proceed to cancel of your days, Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise. Forty days longer we do respite you, If by which time our secret be undone, This mercy shows we’ll joy in such a son. And until then your entertain shall be As doth befit your worth and our degree.
(didascalia)	Flourish.Exeunt all but Pericles
PERICLES	How courtesy would seem to cover sin When what is done is like an hypocrite, The which is good in nothing but in sight. If it be true that I interpret false, Then were it certain you were not so bad As with foul incest to abuse your soul, Where now you’re both a father and a son By your uncomely claspings with your child— Which pleasures fits a husband, not a father— And she, an eater of her mother’s flesh, By the defiling of her parents’ bed, And both like serpents are, who though they feed On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed. Antioch, farewell, for wisdom sees those men Blush not in actions blacker than the night Will ’schew no course to keep them from the light. One sin, I know, another doth provoke. Murder’s as near to lust as flame to smoke. Poison and treason are the hands of sin, Ay, and the targets to put off the shame. Then, lest my life be cropped to keep you clear, By flight I’ll shun the danger which I fear. Exit
(didascalia)	Enter Antiochus
ANTIOCHUS	He hath found the meaning, for the which we mean To have his head. He must not live To trumpet forth my infamy, nor tell the world Antiochus doth sin in such a loathèd manner, And therefore instantly this prince must die, For by his fall my honour must keep high. Who attends us there?
(didascalia)	Enter Thaliart
THALIART	Doth your highness call?
ANTIOCHUS	Thaliart, you are of our chamber, Thaliart, And to your secrecy our mind partakes Her private actions. For your faithfulness We will advance you, Thaliart. Behold, Here’s poison, and here’s gold. We hate the Prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him. It fits thee not to ask the reason. Why? Because we bid it. Say, is it done?
THALIART	My lord, ’tis done.
ANTIOCHUS	Enough.
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger hastily
ANTIOCHUS	Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste.
(didascalia)	Your majesty, Prince Pericles is fled. Exit
ANTIOCHUS	(to Thaliart) As thou wilt live, fly after; like an arrow Shot from a well-experienced archer hits The mark his eye doth level at, so thou Never return unless it be to say ‘Your majesty, Prince Pericles is dead.’
THALIART	If I can get him in my pistol’s length I’ll make him sure enough. Farewell, your highness.
ANTIOCHUS	Thaliart, adieu.
(didascalia)	Exit Thaliart
ANTIOCHUS	Till Pericles be dead My heart can lend no succour to my head.
(didascalia)	Exit. The heads are concealed
ANTIOCHUS	Sc. 2
(didascalia)	Enter Pericles, distempered, with his lords
PERICLES	Let none disturb us.
(didascalia)	Exeunt lords
PERICLES	Why should this change of thoughts, The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy, Be my so used a guest as not an hour In the day’s glorious walk or peaceful night, The tomb where grief should sleep, can breed me quiet? 5 Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun them, And danger, which I feared, ’s at Antioch, Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here. Yet neither pleasure’s art can joy my spirits, Nor yet care’s author’s distance comfort me. Then it is thus: the passions of the mind, That have their first conception by misdread, 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 him If he suspect I may dishonour him. And what may make him blush in being known, He’ll stop the course by which it might be known. With hostile forces he’ll o’erspread the land, And with th‘ostent of war will look so huge Amazement shall drive courage from the state, Our men be vanquished ere they do resist, And subjects punished 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.
(didascalia)	Enter all the Lords, among them old Helicanus, to Pericles
FIRST LORD	Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast!
SECOND LORD	And keep your mind peaceful and comfortable.
HELICANUS	Peace, peace, and give experience tongue. (To Pericles) You do not well so to abuse yourself, To waste your body here with pining sorrow, Upon whose safety doth depend the lives And the prosperity of a whole kingdom. ‘Tis ill in you to do it, and no less ll in your council not to contradict it. They do abuse the King that flatter him, For flatt’ry is the bellows blows up sin; The thing the which is flattered, but a spark, To which that wind gives heat and stronger glowing; Whereas reproof, obedient and in order, Fits kings as they are men, for they may err. When Signor Sooth here does proclaim a peace He flatters you, makes war upon your life.
(didascalia)	He kneels
HELICANUS	Prince, pardon me, or strike me if you please. I cannot be much lower than my knees.
PERICLES	All leave us else; but let your cares o’erlook What shipping and what lading’s in our haven, And then return to us. Exeunt Lords Helicane, thou Hast moved us. What seest thou in our looks?
HELICANUS	An angry brow, dread lord.
PERICLES	If there be such a dart in princes’ frowns, How durst thy tongue move anger to our brows?
HELICANUS	How dares the plants look up to heav’n from whence They have their nourishment?
PERICLES	Thou knowest I have pow’r to take thy life from thee.
HELICANUS	I have ground the axe myself; do you but strike the blow.
(didascalia)	PERICLES lifting him up
HELICANUS	Rise, prithee, rise. Sit down. Thou art no flatterer, I thank thee for it, and the heav‘ns forbid That kings should let their ears hear their faults hid. Fit counsellor and servant for a prince, Who by thy wisdom mak’st a prince thy servant, What wouldst thou have me do?
HELICANUS	To bear with patience Such griefs as you do lay upon yourself.
PERICLES	Thou speak‘st like a physician, Helicanus, That ministers a potion unto me That thou wouldst 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, As children are heav‘n’s blessings: to parents, objects; 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 Seemed not to strike, but smooth. But thou know’st this, ‘Tis time to fear when tyrants seems to kiss; Which fear so grew in me I hither fled Under the covering of careful night, Who seemed 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—as doubt no doubt he doth— That I should open to the list’ning 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—offence Must feel war’s blow, who spares not innocence; Which love to all, of which thyself art one, Who now reproved’st me for’t—
HELICANUS	Alas, sir.
PERICLES	Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks, Musings into my mind, with 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.
HELICANUS	Well, my lord, since you have giv’n 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 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.
PERICLES	I do not doubt thy faith, But should he in my absence wrong thy liberties?
HELICANUS	We’ll mingle our bloods together in the earth From whence we had our being and our birth.
PERICLES	Tyre, I now look from thee then, and to Tarsus 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’ll live so round and safe That time of both this truth shall ne’er convince: Thou showed’st a subject’s shine, I a true prince.
(didascalia)	Exeunt
PERICLES	Sc. 3
(didascalia)	Enter Thaliart
THALIART	So this is Tyre, and this the court. Here must I kill King Pericles, and if I do it and am caught I am like to be hanged abroad, but if I do it 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’t, for if a king bid a man be a villain, he’s bound by the indenture of his oath to be one. Hush, here comes the lords of Tyre.
(didascalia)	Enter Helicanus and Aeschines, with other lords
HELICANUS	You shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre, Further to question of your King’s departure. His sealed commission left in trust with me Does speak sufficiently he’s gone to travel.
THALIART	(aside) How? The King gone?
HELICANUS	If further yet you will be satisfied Why, as it were unlicensed of your loves, He would depart, I’ll give some light unto you. Being at Antioch—
THALIART	(aside) What from Antioch?
HELICANUS	Royal Antiochus, on what cause I know not, Took some displeasure at him—at least he judged so— And doubting lest that he had erred or sinned, To show his sorrow he’d correct himself; So puts himself unto the ship-man’s toil, With whom each minute threatens life or death.
THALIART	(aside) Well, I perceive I shall not be hanged now, Although I would. But since he’s gone, the King’s ears it must please He scaped the land to perish on the seas. I’ll present myself.—Peace to the lords of Tyre. Lord Thaliart am I, of Antioch.
(didascalia)	HELICANUS
THALIART	Lord Thaliart of Antioch is welcome.
THALIART	From King Antiochus I come With message unto princely Pericles, But since my landing I have understood Your lord’s betook himself to unknown travels. Now my message must return from whence it came.
HELICANUS	We have no reason to enquire it, 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 Sc. 4
(didascalia)	Enter Cleon, the Governor of Tarsus, with Dionyza his wife, and others
CLEON	My Dionyza, shall we rest us here And, by relating tales of others’ griefs, See if ’twill teach us to forget our own?
DIONYZA	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, e’en such our griefs are; Here they’re but felt and seen with midges’ eyes, But like to groves, being topped they higher rise.
CLEON	O Dionyza, Who wanteth food and will not say he wants it, Or can conceal his hunger till he famish? Our tongues our sorrows dictate to sound deep Our woes into the air, our eyes to weep Till lungs fetch breath that may proclaim them louder, That, if heav’n slumber while their creatures want, They may awake their helps to comfort them. I’ll then discourse our woes, felt sev’ral years, And, wanting breath to speak, help me with tears.
DIONYZA	As you think best, sir.
CLEON	This Tarsus o‘er which I have the government, A city o’er whom plenty held full hand, For riches strewed herself ev’n in the streets, Whose tow‘rs bore heads so high they kissed the clouds, And strangers ne’er beheld but wondered at, Whose men and dames so jetted and adorned Like one another’s glass to trim them by; Their tables were stored full to glad the sight, And not so much to feed on as delight. All poverty was scorned, and pride so great The name of help grew odious to repeat.
DIONYZA	O, ’tis too true.
CLEON	But see what heav’n can do by this our change. Those mouths who 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 defiled for want of use, They are now starved 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 nuzzle up their babes Thought naught too curious are ready now To eat those little darlings whom they loved. So sharp are hunger’s teeth that man and wife Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life. Here weeping stands a lord, there lies a lady dying, Here many sink, yet those which see them fall Have scarce strength left to give them burial. Is not this true?
DIONYZA	Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it.
CLEON	O, let those cities that of plenty’s cup And her prosperities so largely taste With their superfluous riots, heed these tears! The misery of Tarsus may be theirs.
(didascalia)	Enter a faintingLord of Tarsus slowly
LORD	Where’s the Lord Governor?
CLEON	Here. Speak out thy sorrows which thou bring‘st in haste, For comfort is too far for us t’expect.
LORD	We have descried upon our neighbouring shore A portly sail of ships make hitherward.
CLEON	I thought as much. One sorrow never comes but brings an heir That may succeed as his inheritor, And so in ours. Some neighbour nation, Taking advantage of our misery, Hath stuffed these hollow vessels with their power To beat us down, the which are down already, And make a conquest of unhappy men, Whereas no glory’s got to overcome.
LORD	That’s the least fear, for by the semblance Of their white flags displayed they bring us peace, And come to us as favourers, not foes.
CLEON	Thou speak‘st like him’s untutored to repeat; Who makes the fairest show means most deceit. But bring they what they will and what they can, What need we fear? Our grave’s the low’st, and we are half-way there. Go tell their gen’ral we attend him here To know for what he comes, and whence he comes.
LORD	I go, my lord. Exit
CLEON	Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist; If wars, we are unable to resist.
(didascalia)	Enter the Lord again conducting Pericles with attendants
PERICLES	(to Cleon) Lord Governor, for so we hear you are, Let not our ships and number of our men Be like a beacon fixed t’amaze your eyes. We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre, Since entering your unshut gates have witnessed The widowed desolation of your streets; Nor come we to add sorrow to your hearts, But to relieve them of their heavy load; And these our ships, you happily may think Are like the Trojan horse was fraught within With bloody veins importing overthrow, Are stored with corn to make your needy bread, And give them life whom hunger starved half dead.
(didascalia)	ALL OF TARSUS fallingon their knees and weeping
PERICLES	The gods of Greece protect you, and we’ll pray for you!
PERICLES	Arise, I pray you, rise. We do not look for reverence but for love, And harbourage for me, my ships and men.
CLEON	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 heav’n 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.
PERICLES	Which welcome we’ll accept, feast here a while, Until our stars that frown lend us a smile. Exeunt Sc. 5
(didascalia)	Enter Gower
GOWER	Here have you seen a mighty king His child, iwis, to incest bring; A better prince and benign lord Prove awe-full both in deed and word. Be quiet then, as men should be, Till he hath passed necessity. I’ll show you those in trouble’s reign, Losing a mite, a mountain gain. The good in conversation, To whom I give my benison, Is still at Tarsus where each man Thinks all is writ he speken can, And to remember what he does His statue build 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. Pericles gives the messenger a reward, and knights him. Exeunt with their trains Pericles at one door and Cleon at another Good Helicane that stayed at home, Not to eat honey like a drone From others’ labours, for that he strive To killen bad, keep good alive, And to fulfil his prince’ desire Sent word of all that haps in Tyre; How Thaliart came full bent with sin And hid intent to murdren him, And that in Tarsus was not best Longer for him to make his rest. He deeming so put forth to seas, Where when men been there’s seldom ease, For now the wind begins to blow;
(didascalia)	Thunder above and deeps below
GOWER	Makes such unquiet that the ship Should house him safe is wrecked and split, And he, good prince, having all lost, By waves from coast to coast is tossed. All perishen of man, of pelf, Ne aught escapend but himself, Till fortune, tired with doing bad, Threw him ashore to give him glad. [Enter Pericles wet and half-naked] And here he comes. What shall be next Pardon old Gower; this ’longs the text. Exit [Thunder and lightning]
PERICLES	Yet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!
(didascalia)	Wind, rain, and thunder, remember earthly man
PERICLES	Is but a substance that must yield to you, And I, as fits my nature, do obey you. Alas, the seas hath cast me on the rocks, Washed me from shore to shore, and left my 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. He sits.Enter two poor Fishermen: one the Master, the other his man
MASTER	calling What ho, Pitch!
SECOND FISHERMAN	calling Ha, come and bring away the nets.
MASTER	calling What, Patchbreech, I say!
(didascalia)	Enter a Third rough Fisherman with a hood upon his head and a filthy leathern pelt upon his back, unseemly clad, and homely to behold. He brings nets to dry and repair
THIRD FISHERMAN	What say you, master?
MASTER	Look how thou stirrest now. Come away, or I’ll fetch th’ with a wanion.
THIRD FISHERMAN	Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that were cast away before us even now.
MASTER	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.
THIRD FISHERMAN	Nay, master, said not I as much when I saw the porpoise how he bounced and tumbled? They say they’re 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.
MASTER	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 o’th’ land, who never leave gaping till they swallowed the whole parish: church, steeple, bells, and all. PERICLES (aside) A pretty moral.
THIRD FISHERMAN	But, master, if I had been the sexton, I would have been that day in the belfry.
SECOND FISHERMAN	Why, man?
THIRD FISHERMAN	Because he should have swallowed me, too, and when I had been in his belly I would have kept such a jangling of the bells that he should never have left till he cast bells, steeple, church, and parish up again. But if the good King Simonides were of my mind—
PERICLES	(aside) Simonides?
THIRD FISHERMAN	We would purge the land of these drones that rob the bee of her honey.
PERICLES	(aside) How from the finny subject of the sea These fishers tell th’infirmities of men, And from their wat’ry empire recollect All that may men approve or men detect! Coming forward Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.
SECOND FISHERMAN	Honest, good fellow? What’s that? If it be a day fits you, scratch’t out of the calendar, and nobody look after it.
PERICLES	May see the sea hath cast upon your coast—
SECOND FISHERMAN	What a drunken knave was the sea to cast thee in our way!
PERICLES	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.
MASTER	No, friend, cannot you beg? Here’s them in our country of Greece gets more with begging than we can do with working.
SECOND FISHERMAN	Canst thou catch any fishes, then?
PERICLES	I never practised it.
SECOND FISHERMAN	Nay, then thou wilt starve, sure; for here’s nothing to be got nowadays unless thou canst fish for’t.
PERICLES	What I have been, I have forgot to know, But what I am, want teaches me to think on: A man thronged up with cold; my veins are chill, And have no more of life than may suffice To give my tongue that heat to crave your help, Which if you shall refuse, when I am dead, For that I am a man, pray see me buried. He falls down
MASTER	Die, quotha? Now, gods forbid’t an I have a gown here! To Pericles, lifting him up from the ground Come, put it on, keep thee 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.
PERICLES	I thank you, sir.
SECOND FISHERMAN	Hark you, my friend, you said you could not beg?
PERICLES	I did but crave.
SECOND FISHERMAN	But crave? Then I’ll turn craver too, an so I shall scape whipping.
PERICLES	Why, are all your beggars whipped, then?
SECOND FISHERMAN	O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your beggars were whipped I would wish no better office than to be beadle.
MASTER	Thine office, knave—
SECOND FISHERMAN	Is to draw up the other nets. I’ll go.
(didascalia)	Exit with Third Fisherman
PERICLES	(aside) How well this honest mirth becomes their labour!
(didascalia)	MASTER seating himself by Pericles Hark you, sir, do you know where ye are?
PERICLES	Not well.
MASTER	Why, I’ll tell you. This is called Pentapolis, and our king the good Simonides.
PERICLES	’The good Simonides’ do you call him?
MASTER	Ay, sir, and he deserves so to be called for his peaceable reign and good government.
PERICLES	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?
MASTER	Marry, sir, some half a day’s journey. And I’ll tell you, he hath a fair daughter, and tomorrow is her birthday, and there are princes and knights come from all parts of the world to joust and tourney for her love.
PERICLES	Were but my fortunes answerable To my desires I could wish to make one there.
MASTER	O, sir, things must be as they may, and what a man cannot get himself, he may lawfully deal for with his wife’s soul.
(didascalia)	Enter the other two Fishermen drawing up a net
SECOND FISHERMAN	Help, master, help! Here’s a fish hangs in the net like a poor man’s right in the law; ’twill hardly come out. Before help comes, up comes their prize Ha, bots on’t, ’tis come at last, and ’tis turned to a rusty armour.
PERICLES	An armour, friends? I pray you let me see it. (Aside) Thanks, fortune, yet that after all thy crosses Thou giv‘st me somewhat to repair my losses, And though it was mine own, part of my heritage Which my dead father did bequeath to me With this strict charge ev’n 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 saved me, keep it. In like necessity, The which the Gods forfend, the same may defend thee.’ It kept where I kept, I so dearly loved it, Till the rough seas that spares not any man Took it in rage, though calmed have giv’n’t again. I thank thee for’t. My shipwreck now’s no ill, Since I have here my father gave in ’s will.
MASTER	What mean you, sir?
PERICLES	To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of worth, For it was sometime target to a king. I know it by this mark. He loved me dearly, And for his sake I wish the having of it, And that you’d guide me to your sov’reign’s court, Where with’t I may appear a gentleman. And if that ever my low fortune’s better, I’ll pay your bounties, till then rest your debtor.
MASTER	Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady?
PERICLES	I’ll show the virtue I have learned in arms.
MASTER	Why, d‘ye take it, and the gods give thee good on’t!
SECOND FISHERMAN	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 this.
PERICLES	Believe’t, I will. By your furtherance I’m clothed in steel, And spite of all the rapture of the sea This jewel holds his building on my arm. Unto thy value I will mount myself Upon a courser whose delightsome steps Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread. Only, my friends, I yet am unprovided Of a pair of bases.
SECOND FISHERMAN	We’ll sure provide. Thou shalt have my best gown to make thee a pair, and I’ll bring thee to the court myself.
PERICLES	Then honour be but equal to my will, This day I’ll rise, or else add ill to ill.
(didascalia)	Exeunt with nets and armour
PERICLES	Sc. 6
(didascalia)	Sennet.Enter King Simonides and Thaisa, with Lords in attendance, and sit on two thrones
KING SIMONIDES	Are the knights ready to begin the triumph?
FIRST LORD	They are, my liege, And stay your coming to present themselves.
KING SIMONIDES	Return them we are ready; and our daughter, In honour of whose birth these triumphs are, Sits here like beauty’s child, whom nature gat For men to see and, seeing, wonder at. Exit one
THAISA	It pleaseth you, my father, to express My commendations great, whose merit’s less.
KING SIMONIDES	It’s fit it should be so, for princes are A model which heav’n makes like to itself. As jewels lose their glory if neglected, So princes their renown, if not respected. ’Tis now your office, daughter, to entertain The labour of each knight in his device.
THAISA	Which, to preserve mine honour, I’ll perform.
(didascalia)	Flourish.The first knight passes by
THAISA	richly armed, and his page before him, bearing his device on his shield, delivers it to the Lady Thaisa
KING SIMONIDES	Who is the first that doth prefer himself?
THAISA	A knight of Sparta, my renowned father, And the device he bears upon his shield Is a black Ethiop reaching at the sun. The word, Lux tua vita mihi. She presents it to the King
KING SIMONIDES	He loves you well that holds his life of you. He returns it to the page, who exits with the first knight.
(didascalia)	Flourish.The second knight passes by
KING SIMONIDES	richly armed, and his page before him, bearing his device on his shield, delivers it to the Lady Thaisa Who is the second that presents himself?
THAISA	A prince of Macedon, my royal father, And the device he bears upon his shield An armed knight that’s conquered by a lady. The motto thus: Piùe per dolcezza che per forza. she presents it to the King
KING SIMONIDES	You win him more by lenity than force. He returns it to the page, who exits with the second knight.
(didascalia)	Flourish.The third knight passes by
KING SIMONIDES	richly armed, and his page before him, bearing his device on his shield, delivers it to the Lady Thaisa And what’s the third?
THAISA	The third of Antioch, And his device a wreath of chivalry. The word, Me pompae provexit apex. She presents it to the King
KING SIMONIDES	Desire of renown he doth devise, The which hath drawn him to this enterprise. He returns it to the page, who exits with the third knight.
(didascalia)	Flourish.The fourth knight passes by
KING SIMONIDES	richly armed, and his page before him, bearing his device on his shield, delivers it to the Lady Thaisa What is the fourth?
THAISA	A knight of Athens bearing A burning torch that’s turned upside down. The word, Qui me alit me extinguit. She presents it to the King
KING SIMONIDES	Which shows that beauty hath this power and will, Which can as well inflame as it can kill.
(didascalia)	He returns it to the page, who exits with the fourth knight.
(didascalia)	Flourish. The fifth Knight passes by richly armed, and his page before him, bearing his device on his shield, delivers it to the Lady Thaisa
KING SIMONIDES	And who the fifth?
THAISA	The fifth, a prince of Corinth, Presents an hand environèd with clouds, Holding out gold that’s by the touchstone tried. The motto thus: Sic spectanda fides.
(didascalia)	She presents it to the King
KING SIMONIDES	So faith is to be looked into.
(didascalia)	He returns it to the page, who exits with the fifth knight.
(didascalia)	Flourish.l The sixth knight, Pericles, in a rusty armour, who, having neither page to deliver his shield nor shield to deliver, presents his device unto the Lady Thaisa
KING SIMONIDES	And what’s the sixth and last, the which the knight himself With such a graceful courtesy delivereth?
THAISA	He seems to be a stranger, but his present is A withered branch that’s only green at top. The motto, In hac spe vivo.
KING SIMONIDES	From the dejected state wherein he is He hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish.
FIRST LORD	He had need mean better than his outward show Can any way speak in his just commend, For by his rusty outside he appears T’have practised more the whipstock than the lance.
SECOND LORD	He well may be a stranger, for he comes Unto an honoured triumph strangely furnished.
THIRD LORD	And on set purpose let his armour rust Until this day, to scour it in the dust.
KING SIMONIDES	Opinion’s but a fool, that makes us scan The outward habit for the inward man.
(didascalia)	Cornetts
KING SIMONIDES	But stay, the knights are coming. We will withdraw
(didascalia)	Into the gallery. Exeunt
(didascalia)	Cornetts and great shouts within, and all cry
KING SIMONIDES	‘The mean knight!’
(didascalia)	Sc. 7 A stately banquet is brought in.1 Enter King
(didascalia)	Simonides, Thaisa and their train at one door, and at another door a Marshal conducting Pericles and the other knights from tilting
KING SIMONIDES	(to the knights) To say you’re 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’re princes, and my guests.
THAISA	(to Pericles) But you, my knight and guest; To whom this wreath of victory I give, And crown you king of this day’s happiness.
PERICLES	’Tis more by fortune, lady, than my merit.
KING SIMONIDES	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. You are her laboured scholar. (To Thaisa) Come, queen o’th’ feast— For, daughter, so you are—here take your place. (To Marshal) Marshal the rest as they deserve their grace.
KNIGHTS	We are honoured much by good Simonides.
KING SIMONIDES	Your presence glads our days; honour we love, For who hates honour hates the gods above.
MARSHAL	(to Pericles) Sir, yonder is your place.
PERICLES	Some other is more fit.
FIRST KNIGHT	Contend not, sir, for we are gentlemen Have neither in our hearts nor outward eyes Envied the great, nor shall the low despise.
PERICLES	You are right courteous knights.
KING SIMONIDES	Sit, Sir, sit.
(didascalia)	Pericles sits directly over against the King and Thaisa. The guests feed apace. Pericles sits still and eats nothing
(didascalia)	Aside By Jove I wonder, that is king of thoughts, These cates distaste me, he but thought upon.
(didascalia)	THAISA aside
KING SIMONIDES	By Juno, that is queen of marriage, I am amazed all viands that I eat Do seem unsavoury, wishing him my meat.
(didascalia)	To the King Sure he’s a gallant gentleman.
KING SIMONIDES	He’s but a country gentleman. He’s done no more than other knights have done. He’s broke a staff or so, so let it pass.
(didascalia)	THAISA aside
KING SIMONIDES	To me he seems like diamond to glass.
(didascalia)	PERICLES aside
KING SIMONIDES	Yon king’s to me like to my father’s picture, Which tells me in what 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; Where now his son’s a glow-worm in the night, The which hath fire in darkness, none in light; Whereby I see that time’s the king of men; He’s both their parent and he is their grave, And gives them what he will, not what they crave.
(didascalia)	KING SIMONIDES What, are you merry, knights? THE OTHER KNIGHTS
KING SIMONIDES	Who can be other in this royal presence?
KING SIMONIDES	Here with a cup that’s stored unto the brim, As you do love, full to your mistress’ lips, We drink this health to you.
(didascalia)	THE OTHER KNIGHTS We thank your grace.
KING SIMONIDES	Yet pause a while. Yon knight doth sit too melancholy, As if the entertainment in our court Had not a show might countervail his worth. Note it not you, Thaisa?
THAISA	What is’t to me, my father?
KING SIMONIDES	O, attend, my daughter. Princes in this Should live like gods above, who freely give To everyone that come to honour them. And princes not so doing are like gnats Which make a sound but, killed, are wondered at. Therefore to make his entertain more sweet, Here bear this standing-bowl of wine to him.
THAISA	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.
KING SIMONIDES	How? Do as I bid you, or you’ll move me else.
THAISA	(aside) Now, by the gods, he could not please me better.
KING SIMONIDES	Furthermore, tell him we desire to know Of whence he is, his name and parentage.
(didascalia)	Thaisa bears the cup to Pericles
THAISA	The King my father, sir, has drunk to you, Wishing it so much blood unto your life.
PERICLES	I thank both him and you, and pledge him freely. He pledges the King
THAISA	And further he desires to know of you Of whence you are, your name and parentage.
PERICLES	A gentleman of Tyre, my name Pericles, My education been in arts and arms, Who, looking for adventures in the world, Was by the rough unconstant seas bereft Unfortunately both of ships and men, And after shipwreck driven upon this shore.
(didascalia)	Thaisa returns to the King
THAISA	He thanks your grace, names himself Pericles, A gentleman of Tyre, who, seeking adventures, Was solely by misfortune of the seas Bereft of ships and men, cast on this shore.
KING SIMONIDES	Now by the gods I pity his mishaps, And will awake him from his melancholy.
(didascalia)	Simonides, rising from his state, goes forthwith and embraces Pericles
KING SIMONIDES	Be cheered, for what misfortune hath impaired you of, Fortune by my help can repair to you. My self and country both shall be your friends, And presently a goodly milk-white steed And golden spurs I first bestow upon you, The prizes due your merit, and ordained For this day’s enterprise.
PERICLES	Your kingly courtesy I thankfully accept.
KING SIMONIDES	Come, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles, And waste the time which looks for other revels. Ev’n in your armours, as you are addressed, Your limbs will 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 asked, ’twas so well performed. Come, here’s a lady that wants breathing too. (To Pericles) And I have heard, sir, that the knights of Tyre Are excellent in making ladies trip, And that their measures are as excellent.
PERICLES	In those that practise them they are, my lord.
KING SIMONIDES	O, that’s as much as you would be denied Of your fair courtesy. Unclasp, unclasp. They dance Thanks, gentlemen, to all. All have done well, (To Pericles) But you the best.—Lights, pages, to conduct These knights unto their sev’ral lodgings.—Yours, sir, We have giv’n order should be next our own.
PERICLES	I am at your grace’s pleasure.
KING SIMONIDES	Princes, it is too late to talk of love, And that’s the mark I know you level at. Therefore each one betake him to his rest; Tomorrow all for speeding do their best.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally
KING SIMONIDES	Sc. 8
(didascalia)	Enter Helicanus and Aeschines
HELICANUS	No, Aeschines, know this of me: Antiochus from incest lived not free, For which the most high gods, not minding longer To hold the vengeance that they had in store Due to this heinous capital offence, Even in the height and pride of all his glory, When he was seated in a chariot Of an inestimable value, and His daughter with him, both apparelled all in jewels, A fire from heaven came and shrivelled up Their bodies e’en to loathing, for they so stunk That all those eyes adored them ere their fall Scorn now their hands should give them burial.
AESCHINES	’Twas very strange.
HELICANUS	And yet but justice, for though This king were great, his greatness was no guard To bar heav’n’s shaft, but sin had his reward.
AESCHINES	’Tis very true.
(didascalia)	Enter three Lords, and stand aside
FIRST LORD	See, not a man in private conference Or council has respect with him but he.
SECOND LORD	It shall no longer grieve without reproof.
THIRD LORD	And cursed be he that will not second it.
FIRST LORD	Follow me, then.—Lord Helicane, a word.
HELICANUS	With me? And welcome. Happy day, my lords.
FIRST LORD	Know that our griefs are risen to the top, And now at length they overflow their banks.
HELICANUS	Your griefs? For what? Wrong not your prince you love.
FIRST 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 step, And be resolved he lives to govern us, Or dead, give ’s cause to mourn his funeral And leave us to our free election.
SECOND LORD	Whose death indeed’s the strongest in our censure, And knowing this—kingdoms without a head, Like goodly buildings left without a roof, Soon fall to utter ruin—your noble self, That best know how to rule and how to reign, We thus submit unto as sovereign.
(didascalia)	ALL kneeling Live, noble Helicane!
HELICANUS	By honour’s cause, forbear your suffrages. If that you love Prince Pericles, forbear.
(didascalia)	The lords rise
HELICANUS	Take I your wish I leap into the seas Where’s hourly trouble for a minute’s ease, But if I cannot win you to this love, A twelvemonth longer then let me entreat you Further to bear the absence of your king; If in which time expired he not return, I shall with aged patience bear your yoke. Go, seek your noble prince 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.
FIRST LORD	To wisdom he’s a fool that will not yield, And since Lord Helicane enjoineth us, We with our travels will endeavour us. If in the world he live we’ll seek him out; If in his grave he rest, we’ll find him there.
HELICANUS	Then you love us, we you, and we’ll clasp hands. When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands. Exeunt Sc. 8a
(didascalia)	Enter Pericles with Gentlemen with lights
FIRST GENTLEMAN	Here is your lodging, sir.
PERICLES	Pray leave me private. Only for instant solace pleasure me With some delightful instrument, with which, And with my former practice, I intend To pass away the tediousness of night, 5 Though slumbers were more fitting.
FIRST GENTLEMAN	Presently.
(didascalia)	Exit First Gentleman
SECOND GENTLEMAN	Your will’s obeyed in all things, for our master Commanded you be disobeyed in nothing.
(didascalia)	Enter First Gentleman with a stringed instrument
PERICLES	I thank you. Now betake you to your pillows, And to the nourishment of quiet sleep. 10
(didascalia)	Exeunt Gentlemen
PERICLES	Pericles plays and sings Day—that hath still that sovereignty to draw back The empire of the night, though for a while In darkness she usurp—brings morning on. I will go give his grace that salutation Morning requires of me.
(didascalia)	Exit with instrument
PERICLES	Sc. 9
(didascalia)	Enter King Simonides at one door reading of a letter, the Knights enter at another door and meet him
FIRST KNIGHT	Good morrow to the good Simonides.
KING SIMONIDES	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 her none can get.
SECOND KNIGHT	May we not have access to her, my lord?
KING SIMONIDES	Faith, by no means. It is impossible, She hath so strictly tied her to her chamber. One twelve moons more she’ll wear Diana’s liv’ry. This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vowed, And on her virgin honour will not break it.
THIRD KNIGHT	Loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Knights
KING SIMONIDES	So, they are well dispatched. Now to my daughter’s letter. She tells me here she’ll wed the stranger knight, Or never more to view nor day nor light. I like that well. Nay, how absolute she’s in‘t, Not minding whether I dislike or no! Mistress, ’tis well, I do commend your choice, And will no longer have it be delayed.
(didascalia)	Enter Pericles
KING SIMONIDES	Soft, here he comes. I must dissemble that In show, I have determined on in heart.
PERICLES	All fortune to the good Simonides.
KING SIMONIDES	To you as much, sir. I am beholden to you For your sweet music this last night. My ears, I do protest, were never better fed With such delightful pleasing harmony.
PERICLES	It is your grace’s pleasure to commend, Not my desert.
KING SIMONIDES	Sir, you are music’s master.
PERICLES	The worst of all her scholars, my good lord.
KING SIMONIDES	Let me ask you one thing. What think you of my daughter?
PERICLES	A most virtuous princess.
KING SIMONIDES	And fair, too, is she not?
PERICLES	As a fair day in summer; wondrous fair.
KING SIMONIDES	My daughter, sir, thinks very well of you; So well indeed that you must be her master And she will be your scholar; therefore look to it.
PERICLES	I am unworthy for her schoolmaster.
KING SIMONIDES	She thinks not so. Peruse this writing else. He gives the letter to Pericles, who reads
PERICLES	(aside) What’s here?—a letter that she loves the knight of Tyre? ’Tis the King’s subtlety to have my life.
(didascalia)	He prostrates himself at the King’s feet
PERICLES	O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord, A stranger and distressed gentleman That never aimed so high to love your daughter, But bent all offices to honour her. Never did thought of mine levy offence, Nor never did my actions yet commence A deed might gain her love or your displeasure.
KING SIMONIDES	Thou liest like a traitor.
PERICLES	Traitor?
KING SIMONIDES	Ay, traitor, That thus disguised art stol’n into my court With witchcraft of thy actions to bewitch The yielding spirit of my tender child. 50
(didascalia)	PERICLES rising
KING SIMONIDES	Who calls me traitor, unless it be the King, Ev’n in his bosom I will write the lie.
KING SIMONIDES	(aside) Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage.
PERICLES	My actions are as noble as my blood, That never relished of a base descent. 55 I came unto your court in search of honour, And not to be a rebel to your state; And he that otherwise accounts of me, This sword shall prove he’s honour’s enemy.
KING SIMONIDES	I shall prove otherwise, since both your practice And her consent therein is evident There, by my daughter’s hand, as she can witness.
(didascalia)	Enter Thaisa
PERICLES	(to Thaisa) Then as you are as virtuous as fair, By what you hope of heaven or desire By your best wishes here i‘th’ world fulfilled, Resolve your angry father if my tongue Did e’er solicit, or my hand subscribe To any syllable made love to you.
THAISA	Why, sir, say if you had, Who takes offence at that would make me glad?
KING SIMONIDES	How, minion, are you so peremptory? (Aside) I am glad on’t.—Is this a fit match for you? A straggling Theseus, born we know not where, One that hath neither blood nor merit For thee to hope for, or himself to challenge Of thy perfections e’en the least allowance.
THAISA	(kneeling) Suppose his birth were base, when that his life Shows that he is not so, yet he hath virtue, The very ground of all nobility, Enough to make him noble. I entreat you To remember that I am in love, The power of which love cannot be confined By th’ power of your will. Most royal father, What with my pen I have in secret written With my tongue now I openly confirm, Which is I have no life but in his love, Nor any being but in joying of his worth.
KING SIMONIDES	Equals to equals, good to good is joined. This not being so, the bavin of your mind In rashness kindled must again be quenched, Or purchase our displeasure.—And for you, sir, First learn to know I banish you my court, And yet I scorn our rage should stoop so low. For your ambition, sir, I’ll have your life.
THAISA	(to Pericles) For every drop of blood he sheds of yours He’ll draw another from his only child.
KING SIMONIDES	I’ll tame you, yea, I’ll bring you in subjection. Will you not having my consent Bestow your love and your affections Upon a stranger?—(aside) who for aught I know May be, nor can I think the contrary, As great in blood as I myself.
(didascalia)	He catches Thaisa rashly by the hand
KING SIMONIDES	Therefore hear you, mistress: either frame your will to mine—
(didascalia)	He catches Pericles rashly by the hand
KING SIMONIDES	And you, sir, hear you: either be ruled by me— Or I shall make you
(didascalia)	He claps their hands together man and wife. 105
KING SIMONIDES	Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too, Pericles and Thaisa kiss And being joined, I’ll thus your hopes destroy,
(didascalia)	He parts them
KING SIMONIDES	And for your further grief, God give you joy. What, are you pleased?
THAISA	Yes, (to Pericles) if you love me, sir.
PERICLES	Ev’n as my life my blood that fosters it.
KING SIMONIDES	What, are you both agreed?
PERICLES	and THAISA Yes, if’t please your majesty.
KING SIMONIDES	It pleaseth me so well that I will see you wed, Then with what haste you can, get you to bed. Exeunt Sc. 10
(didascalia)	Enter Gower
GOWER	Now sleep y-slacked hath the rout, No din but snores the house about, Made louder by the o‘erfed 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 th’oven’s mouth As 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.
(didascalia)	Enter Pericles and Simonides at one door with attendants. A messenger comes hastily in to them, kneels, and gives Pericles a letter. Pericles shows it Simonides; the lords kneel to him. Then enter Thaisa with child, with Lychorida, a nurse. The King shows her the letter. She rejoices. She and Pericles take leave of her father and depart with I,,ychorida at one door; Simonides and attendants depart at another
GOWER	By many a dern and painful perch Of Pericles the care-full 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 enquire, To th’ court of King Simonides Are letters brought, the tenor 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 there he hastes t‘appease, 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 Y-ravishèd the regions round, And everyone with claps can sound ‘Our heir-apparent is a king! Who dreamt, 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 grizzled 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-tossed Pericles appears to speke. Exit
(didascalia)	Sc. 11 Thunder and lightning. Enter Pericles a-shipboard
PERICLES	The god of this great vast rebuke these surges Which wash both heav’n and hell; and thou that hast Upon the winds command, bind them in brass, Having called them from the deep. O still Thy deaf‘ning dreadful thunders, gently quench Thy nimble sulph’rous flashes.—O, ho, 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!—Now, Lychorida.
(didascalia)	Enter Lychorida with an infant
LYCHORIDA	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.
PERICLES	How, how, Lychorida?
LYCHORIDA	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.
PERICLES	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.
LYCHORIDA	Patience, good sir, E’en for this charge.
(didascalia)	She gives him the infant. Pericles, looking mournfully upon it, shakes his head, and weeps
PERICLES	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 heav’n can make To herald thee from th’ womb. Poor inch of nature, Ev’n at the first thy loss is more than can Thy partage quit with all thou canst find here. Now the good gods throw their best eyes upon’t.
(didascalia)	Enter the Master and a Sailor
(didascalia)	MASTER What, courage, sir! God save you.
PERICLES	Courage enough, I do not fear the flaw; It hath done to me its worst. Yet for the love Of this poor infant, this fresh new seafarer, I would it would be quiet.
(didascalia)	MASTER (calling) Slack the bow-lines, there.—Thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow, and split thyself.
SAILOR	But searoom, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon, I care not.
(didascalia)	MASTER (to Pericles) Sir, your queen must overboard. The sea works high, the wind is loud, and will not lie till the ship be cleared of the dead.
PERICLES	That’s but your superstition.
(didascalia)	MASTER Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it hath been still observed, and we are strong in custom. Therefore briefly yield ’er, for she must overboard straight.
PERICLES	As you think meet. Most wretched queen!
LYCHORIDA	Here she lies, sir.
(didascalia)	She draws the curtains and discovers the body of Thaisa in a bed. Pericles gives Lychorida the infant
PERICLES	(to Thaisa) A terrible childbed hast thou had, my dear, No light, no fire. Th‘unfriendly elements Forgot thee utterly, nor have I time To give thee hallowed to thy grave, but straight Must cast thee, scarcely coffined, 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 shetts.—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.
(didascalia)	Exit Lychorida
(didascalia)	SAILOR Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches caulked and bitumed ready.
(didascalia)	I thank thee. To the Master Mariner, say, what coast is this?
(didascalia)	MASTER
PERICLES	We are near Tarsus.
PERICLES	Thither, gentle mariner,
(didascalia)	Alter thy course from Tyre. When canst thou reach it? MASTER
PERICLES	By break of day, if the wind cease.
PERICLES	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.
(didascalia)	Exit Master at one door and Sailor beneath the hatches. Exit Pericles to Thaisa, closing the curtains
PERICLES	Sc. 12
(didascalia)	Enter Lord Cerimon with a poor man and a servant
CERIMON	Philemon, ho!
(didascalia)	Enter Philemon
PHILEMON	Doth my lord call?
CERIMON	Get fire and meat for those poor men.
(didascalia)	Exit Philemon
CERIMON	‘T’as been a turbulent and stormy night.
SERVANT	I have seen many, but such a night as this Till now I ne’er endured.
CERIMON	Your master will be dead ere you return. There’s nothing can be ministered in nature
(didascalia)	That can recover him. To poor man Give this to th’
CERIMON	pothecary And tell me how it works.
(didascalia)	Exeunt poor man and servant
(didascalia)	Enter two Gentlemen
FIRST GENTLEMAN	Good morrow.
SECOND GENTLEMAN	Good morrow to your lordship.
CERIMON	Gentlemen, Why do you stir so early?
FIRST GENTLEMAN	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.
SECOND GENTLEMAN	That is the cause we trouble you so early; ’Tis not our husbandry.
CERIMON	O, you say well.
FIRST GENTLEMAN	But I much marvel that your lordship should, Having rich tire about you, at this hour Shake off the golden slumber of repose. ’Tis most strange, Nature to be so conversant with pain, Being thereto not compelled.
CERIMON	I held it ever Virtue and cunning were endowments greater Than nobleness and riches. Careless heirs May the two latter darken and dispend, 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 dwells in vegetives, in metals, stones, And so can speak of the disturbances That nature works, and of her cures, which doth give me A more content and cause of true delight Than to be thirsty after tott’ring honour, Or tie my pleasure up in silken bags To glad the fool and death.
SECOND GENTLEMAN	Your honour has Through Ephesus poured forth your charity, And hundreds call themselves your creatures who by you Have been restored. And not alone your knowledge, Your personal pain, but e’en your purse still open Hath built Lord Cerimon such strong renown As time shall never—
(didascalia)	Enter Philemon and one or two with a chest
(didascalia)	PHILEMON So, lift there.
(didascalia)	CERIMON What’s that? PHILEMON Sir, even now
SECOND GENTLEMAN	The sea tossed up upon our shore this chest. ’Tis off some wreck.
CERIMON	Set’t down. Let’s look upon’t.
SECOND GENTLEMAN	’Tis like a coffin, sir.
CERIMON	Whate’er it be, ’Tis wondrous heavy.—Did the sea cast it up?
(didascalia)	PHILEMON
CERIMON	I never saw so huge a billow, sir, Or a more eager.
CERIMON	Wrench it open straight. The others start to work If the sea’s stomach be o‘ercharged with gold ’Tis by a good constraint of queasy fortune It belches upon us.
SECOND GENTLEMAN	’Tis so, my lord.
CERIMON	How close ’tis caulked and bitumed!
(didascalia)	They force the lid
CERIMON	Soft, it smells Most sweetly in my sense.
SECOND GENTLEMAN	A delicate odour.
CERIMON	As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it. They take the lid off O you most potent gods! What’s here—a corpse?
SECOND GENTLEMAN	Most strange.
CERIMON	Shrouded in cloth of state, and crowned, Balmed and entreasured with full bags of spices. A passport, too! He takes a paper from the chest Apollo perfect me i’th’ characters. ‘Here I give to understand, If e’er this coffin drives 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 chanced tonight.
SECOND GENTLEMAN	Most likely, sir.
CERIMON	Nay, certainly tonight, For look how fresh she looks. They were too rash That threw her in the sea. Make a fire within.
(didascalia)	Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet. Exit Philemon
CERIMON	Death may usurp on nature many hours, And yet the fire of life kindle again The o’erpressed spirits. I have heard Of an Egyptian nine hours dead Who was by good appliances recovered.
(didascalia)	Enter Philemon with napkins and fire
CERIMON	Well said, well said, the fire and cloths. The still and woeful music that we have, Cause it to sound, beseech you.
(didascalia)	Music
CERIMON	The vial 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 entranced Above five hours. See how she ’gins to blow Into life’s flow’r again.
FIRST GENTLEMAN	The heavens Through you increase our wonder, and set up Your fame for ever.
CERIMON	She is alive. Behold, Her eyelids, cases to those heav’nly jewels Which Pericles hath lost, Begin to part their fringes of bright gold. The diamonds of a most praised water Doth 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
THAISA	O dear Diana, Where am I? Where’s my lord? What world is this?
SECOND GENTLEMAN	Is not this strange?
FIRST GENTLEMAN	Most rare.
CERIMON	Hush, gentle neighbours. Lend me your hands. To the next chamber bear her. Get linen. Now this matter must be looked to, For her relapse is mortal. Come, come, And Aesculapius guide us. They carry her away. Exeunt Sc. 13
(didascalia)	Enter Pericles at Tarsus, with Cleon and Dionyza, and Lychorida with a babe
PERICLES	Most honoured Cleon, I must needs be gone. My twelve months are expired, 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!
CLEON	Your strokes of fortune, Though they hurt you mortally, yet glance Full woundingly on us.
DIONYZA	O your sweet queen! That the strict fates had pleased you’d brought her hither T’have blessed mine eyes with her!
PERICLES	We cannot but obey The pow‘rs above us. Should 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 named 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 Mannered as she is born.
CLEON	Fear not, my lord, but think Your grace, that fed my country with your corn— For which the people’s pray’rs still fall upon you— Must in your child be thought on. If neglection Should therein make me vile, the common body By you relieved would force me to my duty. But if to that my nature need a spur, The gods revenge it upon me and mine To th’ end of generation.
PERICLES	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, Unscissored 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.
DIONYZA	I have one myself, Who shall not be more dear to my respect Than yours, my lord.
PERICLES	Madam, my thanks and prayers.
CLEON	We’ll bring your grace e‘en to the edge o’th’ shore, Then give you up to th’ masted Neptune and The gentlest winds of heaven.
PERICLES	I will embrace your offer.—Come, dear’st madam.— O, no tears, Lychorida, no tears. Look to your little mistress, on whose grace You may depend hereafter.—Come, my lord. Exeunt Sc. 14
(didascalia)	Enter Cerimon and Thaisa
CERIMON	Madam, this letter and some certain jewels Lay with you in your coffer, which are all At your command. Know you the character?
THAISA	It is my lord’s. That I was shipped at sea I well remember, ev’n on my eaning time, But whether there delivered, by th’ holy gods I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles, My wedded lord, I ne‘er shall see again, A vestal liv’ry will I take me to, And never more have joy.
CERIMON	Madam, if this you purpose as ye speak, Diana’s temple is not distant far, Where till your date expire you may abide. Moreover, if you please a niece of mine Shall there attend you.
THAISA	My recompense is thanks, that’s all, Yet my good will is great, though the gift small. Exeunt Sc. 15
(didascalia)	Enter Gower
GOWER	Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre, Welcomed and settled to his own desire. His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus, Unto Diana there ’s a votaress. Now to Marina bend your mind, Whom our fast-growing scene must find At Tarsus, and by Cleon trained In music, letters; who hath gained Of education all the grace, Which makes her both the heart and place Of gen‘ral wonder. But, alack, That monster envy, oft the wrack Of earned praise, Marina’s life Seeks to take off by treason’s knife, And in this kind our Cleon has One daughter, and a full-grown lass E’en ripe for marriage-rite. This maid Hight Philoten, and it is said For certain in our story she Would ever with Marina be, Be’t when they weaved the sleided silk With fingers long, small, white as milk; Or when she would with sharp nee‘le wound The cambric which she made more sound By hurting it, or when to th’ lute She sung, and made the night bird mute, That still records with moan; or when She would with rich and constant pen Vail to her mistress Dian. Still This Philoten contends in skill With absolute Marina; so With dove of Paphos might the crow Vie feathers white. Marina gets All praises which are paid as debts, And not as given. This so darks In Philoten all graceful marks That Cleon’s wife with envy rare A present murder 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,
(didascalia)	A tomb is revealed
GOWER	And cursed Dionyza hath The pregnant instrument of wrath Pressed for this blow. Th’unborn event I do commend to your content, Only I carry winged Time Post on the lame feet of my rhyme, Which never could I so convey Unless your thoughts went on my way.
(didascalia)	Enter Dionyza with Leonine
GOWER	Dionyza does appear, With Leonine, a murderer. Exit
DIONYZA	Thy oath remember. Thou hast sworn to do’t. ‘Tis but a blow, which never shall be known. Thou canst not do a thing i’th’ world so soon To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience, Which is but cold, or fanning love thy bosom Unflame too nicely, nor let pity, which E’en women have cast off, melt thee; but be A soldier to thy purpose.
LEONINE	I will do’t; But yet she is a goodly creature.
DIONYZA	The fitter then the gods should have her.
(didascalia)	Enter Marina to the tomb with a basket of flowers
DIONYZA	Here she comes, weeping her only nurse’s death. Thou art resolved.
LEONINE	I am resolved.
MARINA	No, I will rob Tellus of her weed To strew thy grave with flow’rs. The yellows, blues, The purple violets and marigolds Shall as a carpet hang upon thy tomb While summer days doth last. Ay me, poor maid, Born in a tempest when my mother died, This world to me is but a ceaseless storm Whirring me from my friends.
DIONYZA	How now, Marina, why do you keep alone? How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not consume your blood with sorrowing. Have you a nurse of me. Lord, how your favour Is changed with this unprofitable woe! Give me your flowers. Come, o’er the sea margin Walk with Leonine. The air is piercing there, And quick; it sharps the stomach. Come, Leonine, Take her by th’ arm. Walk with her.
MARINA	No, I pray you, I’ll not bereave you of your servant.
DIONYZA	Come, come, I love the King your father and yourself With more than foreign heart. We ev’ry day Expect him here. When he shall come and find Our paragon to all reports thus blasted, He will repent the breadth of his great voyage, Blame both my lord and me, that we have taken No care to your best courses. Go, I pray you, Walk and be cheerful once again; resume That excellent complexion which did steal The eyes of young and old. Care not for me. I can go home alone.
MARINA	Well, I will go, But truly I have no desire to it.
DIONYZA	Nay, I know ’tis good for you. Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least; remember What I have said.
LEONINE	I warr’nt you, madam.
DIONYZA	(to Marina) I’ll leave you, my sweet lady, for a while. Pray you walk softly, do not heat your blood. What, I must have care of you!
MARINA	My thanks, sweet madam.
(didascalia)	Exit Dionyza
MARINA	Is this wind westerly that blows?
LEONINE	South-west.
MARINA	When I was born the wind was north.
LEONINE	Was’t SO? MARINA My father, as nurse says, did never fear, But cried ’Good seamen’ to the mariners, Galling his kingly hands with haling ropes, And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea That almost burst the deck.
LEONINE	When was this?
MARINA	When I was born. Never was waves nor wind more violent. Once from the ladder tackle washes off A canvas-climber. ‘Ha!’ says one, ‘wolt out?’ And with a dropping industry they skip From stem to stern. The boatswain whistles, and The master calls and trebles their confusion.
LEONINE	Come, say your prayers.
MARINA	What mean you?
LEONINE	If you require a little space for prayer I grant it. Pray, but be not tedious. The gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn To do my work with haste.
MARINA	Why would you kill me?
LEONINE	To satisfy my lady.
MARINA	Why would she have me killed? Now, as I can remember, by my troth I never did her hurt in all my life. I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn To any living creature. Believe me, la. I never killed a mouse nor hurt a fly. I trod once on a worm against my will, But I wept for it. How have I offended Wherein my death might yield her any profit Or my life imply her danger?
LEONINE	My commission Is not to reason of the deed, but do’t.
MARINA	You will not do’t for all the world, I hope. You are well favoured, 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 showed well in you. Do so now. Your lady seeks my life. Come you between, And save poor me, the weaker.
(didascalia)	LEONINE drawing out his sword I am sworn,
MARINA	And will dispatch.
(didascalia)	Enter Pirates running
FIRST PIRATE	Hold, villain.
(didascalia)	Leonine runs away and hides behind the tomb
SECOND PIRATE	A prize, a prize.
THIRD PIRATE	Half-part, mates, half-part. Come, let’s have her aboard suddenly.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Pirates carrying Marina
(didascalia)	Leonine steals back
LEONINE	These roguing thieves serve the great pirate Valdes. An they have seized Marina, let her go. There’s no hope she’ll return. I’ll swear she’s dead And thrown into the sea; but I’ll see further. Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her, Not carry her aboard. If she remain, Whom they have ravished must by me be slain.
(didascalia)	Exit. The tomb is concealed
(didascalia)	Sc. 16 A brothel sign.] Enter the Pander, his wife the Bawd, and their man Boult
PANDER	Boult.
BOULT	Sir.
PANDER	Search the market narrowly. Mytilene is full of gallants. We lose too much money this mart by being wenchless.
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.
PANDER	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 sayst true. ’Tis not our 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.
PANDER	Thou sayst true. They’re too unwholesome, o’ conscience. The poor Transylvanian 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
PANDER	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?
PANDER	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 o’er.
BAWD	Come, other sorts offend as well as we. PANDER As well as we? Ay, and better too; we offend worse. Neither is our profession any mystery, it’s no calling. But here comes Boult.
(didascalia)	Enter Boult with the Pirates and Marina
(didascalia)	BOULT to the Pirates Come your ways, my masters, you say she’s a virgin?
BAWD	A PIRATE O sir, we doubt it not.
BOULT	(to Pander) Master, I have gone through 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 hundred sesterces.
PANDER	(to Pirates) Well, follow me, my masters. You shall have your money presently. (To Bawd) Wife, take her in, instruct her what she has to do, that she may not be raw in her entertainment.
(didascalia)	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
MARINA	Alack that Leonine was so slack, so slow. He should have struck, not spoke; or that these pirates, Not enough barbarous, had but o’erboard thrown me To seek my mother.
BAWD	Why lament you, pretty one?
MARINA	That I am pretty.
BAWD	Come, the gods have done their part in you.
MARINA	I accuse them not.
BAWD	You are light into my hands, where you are like to live.
MARINA	The more my fault To scape his hands where I was like to die.
BAWD	Ay, and you shall live in pleasure.
MARINA	No.
BAWD	Yes, indeed shall you, and taste gentlemen of all fashions. You shall fare well. You shall have the difference of all complexions. What, do you stop your ears?
MARINA	Are you a woman?
BAWD	What would you have me be an I be not a woman?
MARINA	An honest woman, or not a woman.
BAWD	Marry, whip the gosling! I think I shall have something to do with you. Come, you’re a young foolish sapling, and must be bowed as I would have you.
MARINA	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 must stir you up.
(didascalia)	Enter Boult
BAWD	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 prithee 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 fathers’ testament. There was a Spaniard’s mouth watered as he went to bed to her very description.
BAWD	We shall have him here tomorrow with his best ruff on.
BOULT	Tonight, tonight. But mistress, do you know the French knight that cowers i’ the hams?
BAWD	Who, Monsieur Veroles?
BOULT	Ay, he. He offered to cut a caper at the proclamation, but he made a groan at it, and swore he would see her tomorrow.
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 of the sun.
BOULT	Well, if we had of every nation a traveller, we should lodge them all with this sign.
BAWD	(to Marina) Pray you, come hither a while. You have 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 ye do makes pity in your lovers. Seldom but that pity begets you a good opinion, and that opinion a mere profit.
MARINA	I understand you not.
BOULT	(to Bawd) O, take her home, mistress, take her home. These blushes of hers must be quenched with some present practice.
BAWD	Thou sayst 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 mayst cut a morsel off the spit.
BOULT	I may so.
BAWD	Who should deny it? (To Marina) Come, young one, I like the manner of your garments well.
BOULT	Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet.
BAWD	(giving him money) 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 reapest the harvest out of thine own setting forth.
BOULT	I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake the beds of eels as my giving out her beauty stirs up the lewdly inclined. I’ll bring home some tonight.
(didascalia)	Exit
BAWD	Come your ways, follow me.
MARINA	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, will you go with me?
(didascalia)	Exeunt. The sign is removed
(didascalia)	Sc. 17 Enter in mourning garments Cleon and Dionyza DIONYZA
BAWD	Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone?
CLEON	O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter The sun and moon ne’er looked upon.
DIONYZA	I think you’ll turn a child again.
CLEON	Were I chief lord of all this spacious world I’d give it to undo the deed. A lady Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess To equal any single crown o‘th’ earth I’th’ justice of compare. O villain Leonine, Whom thou hast poisoned too, If thou hadst drunk to him ‘t’ad been a kindness Becoming well thy fact. What canst thou say When noble Pericles demands his child?
DIONYZA	That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates. To foster is not ever to preserve. She died at night. I’ll say so. Who can cross it, Unless you play the pious innocent And, for an honest attribute, cry out ‘She died by foul play.’
CLEON	O, go to. Well, well, Of all the faults beneath the heav’ns the gods Do like this worst.
DIONYZA	Be one of those that thinks The petty wrens of Tarsus will fly hence And open this to Pericles. I do shame To think of what a noble strain you are, And of how cowed a spirit.
CLEON	To such proceeding Whoever but his approbation added, Though not his prime consent, he did not flow From honourable sources.
DIONYZA	Be it so, then. Yet none does know but you how she came dead, Nor none can know, Leonine being gone. She did distain my child, and stood between Her and her fortunes. None would look on her, But cast their gazes on Marina’s face Whilst ours was blurted at, and held a malkin Not worth the time of day. It pierced me through, And though you call my course unnatural, You not your child well loving, yet I find It greets me as an enterprise of kindness Performed to your sole daughter.
CLEON	Heavens forgive it.
DIONYZA	And as for Pericles, What should he say? We wept after her hearse, And yet we mourn. Her monument Is almost finished, and her epitaphs In glitt‘ring golden characters express A gen’ral praise to her and care in us, At whose expense ’tis done.
CLEON	Thou art like the harpy, Which, to betray, dost, with thine angel face, Seize in thine eagle talons.
DIONYZA	Ye’re like one that superstitiously Do swear to th’ gods that winter kills the flies, But yet I know you’ll do as I advise. Exeunt Sc. 18
(didascalia)	Enter Gower
GOWER	Thus time we waste, and long leagues make we short, Sail seas in cockles, have and wish but for‘t, Making to take imagination From bourn to bourn, region to region. By you being pardoned, we commit no crime To use one language in each sev’ral clime Where our scene seems to live. I do beseech you To learn of me, who stand i’th’ gaps to teach you The stages of our story: Pericles Is now again thwarting the wayward seas, Attended on by many a lord and knight, To see his daughter, all his life’s delight. Old Helicanus goes along. Behind Is left to govern, if you bear in mind, Old Aeschines, whom Helicanus late Advanced in Tyre to great and high estate. Well sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought This king to Tarsus—think his pilot thought; So with his steerage shall your thoughts go on— To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone. Like motes and shadows see them move a while; Your ears unto your eyes I’ll reconcile. Dumb show.
(didascalia)	Enter Pericles at one door with all his train, Cleon
(didascalia)	and Dionyza in mourning garments at the other.
(didascalia)	Cleon draws the curtain and shows Pericles the
GOWER	tomb, whereat Pericles makes lamentation, puts on sack-cloth, and in a mighty passion departs, followed by his train. Cleon and Dionyza depart at the other door See how belief may suffer by foul show. This borrowed passion stands for true-owed woe, And Pericles, in sorrow all devoured, With sighs shot through, and biggest tears o‘ershow’red, Leaves Tarsus, and again embarks. He swears Never to wash his face nor cut his hairs. He puts on sack-cloth, and to sea. He bears A tempest which his mortal vessel tears, And yet he rides it out. Now please you wit The epitaph is for Marina writ By wicked Dionyza. He reads Marina’s epitaph on the tomb ‘The fairest, sweetest, best lies here, Who withered in her spring of year. In nature’s garden, though by growth a bud, She was the chiefest flower: she was good.’ No visor does become black villainy So well as soft and tender flattery. Let Pericles believe his daughter’s dead And bear his courses to be ordered By Lady Fortune, while our scene must play His daughter’s woe and heavy well-a-day In her unholy service. Patience then, And think you now are all in Mytilene. Exit
(didascalia)	Sc. 19 A brothel sign. Enter two Gentlemen
FIRST GENTLEMAN	Did you ever hear the like?
SECOND GENTLEMAN	No, nor never shall do in such a place as this, she being once gone.
FIRST GENTLEMAN	But to have divinity preached there—did you ever dream of such a thing?
SECOND GENTLEMAN	No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdy houses. Shall ’s go hear the vestals sing?
FIRST GENTLEMAN	I’ll do anything now that is virtuous, but I am out of the road of rutting for ever. Exeunt
(didascalia)	Enter Pander, Bawd, and Boult
PANDER	Well, I had rather than twice the worth of her she had ne’er come here.
BAWD	Fie, fie upon her, she’s able to freeze the god Priapus and undo the whole of 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 cavalleria and make our swearers priests.
PANDER	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.
(didascalia)	Enter Lysimachus, disguised
PANDER	Here comes the Lord Lysimachus, disguised.
BOULT	We should have both lord and loon if the peevish baggage would but give way to custom.
LYSIMACHUS	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.
LYSIMACHUS	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 woutd—but there never came her like in Mytilene.
LYSIMACHUS	If she’d do the deed of darkness, thou wouldst say.
(didascalia)	BAWD Your honour knows what ’tis to say well enough. LYSIMACHUS Well, call forth, call forth. Exit Pander BOULT For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you shall see a rose. And she were a rose indeed, if she had but—
LYSIMACHUS	What, prithee?
BOULT	O sir, I can be modest.
LYSIMACHUS	That dignifies the renown of a bawd no less than it gives a good report to a noble to be chaste.
(didascalia)	Enter Pander with Marina
BAWD	Here comes that which grows to the stalk, never plucked yet, I can assure you. Is she not a fair creature?
LYSIMACHUS	Faith, she would serve after a long voyage at sea. Well, there’s for you. Leave us.
(didascalia)	He pays the Bawd
BAWD	I beseech your honour give me leave: a word, and I’ll have done presently.
LYSIMACHUS	I beseech you, do.
BAWD	(aside to Marina) First, I would have you note this is an honourable man.
MARINA	I desire to find him so, that I may honourably know him.
BAWD	Next, he’s the governor of this country, and a man whom I am bound to.
MARINA	If he govern the country you are bound to him indeed, but how honourable he is in that, I know not.
BAWD	Pray you, without any more virginal fencing, will you use him kindly? He will line your apron with gold.
MARINA	What he will do graciously I will thankfully receive. LYSIMACHUS (to Bawd) Ha’ you done?
BAWD	My lord, she’s not paced yet. You must take some pains to work her to your manège. (To Boult and Pander) Come, we will leave his honour and hers together. Go thy ways. Exeunt Pander, Bawd, and Boult
LYSIMACHUS	Fair one, how long have you been at this trade? MARINA What trade, sir?
LYSIMACHUS	I cannot name it but I shall offend.
MARINA	I cannot be offended with my trade. Please you to name it.
LYSIMACHUS	How long have you been Of this profession?
MARINA	E’er since I can remember.
LYSIMACHUS	Did you go to’t so young? Were you a gamester At five, or seven?
MARINA	Earlier too, sir, If now I be one.
LYSIMACHUS	Why, the house you dwell in Proclaimeth you a creature of sale.
MARINA	And do you know this house to be a place Of such resort and will come into it? I hear say you’re of honourable blood, And are the governor of this whole province.
LYSIMACHUS	What, hath your principal informed you who I am?
MARINA	Who is my principal?
LYSIMACHUS	Why, your herb-woman; She that sets seeds of shame, roots of iniquity.
(didascalia)	Marina weeps
LYSIMACHUS	O, you’ve heard something of my pow‘r, and so Stand off aloof for a more serious wooing. But I protest to thee, Pretty one, my authority can wink At blemishes, or can on faults look friendly; Or my displeasure punish at my pleasure, From which displeasure, not thy beauty shall Privilege thee, nor my affection, which Hath drawn me here, abate with further ling’ring. Come bring me to some private place. Come, come.
MARINA	Let not authority, which teaches you To govern others, be the means to make you Misgovern much yourself. If you were born to honour, show it now; If put upon you, make the judgement good That thought you worthy of it. What reason’s in Your justice, who hath power over all, To undo any? If you take from me Mine honour, you’re like him that makes a gap Into forbidden ground, whom after Too many enter, and of all their evils Yourself are guilty. My life is yet unspotted; My chastity unstained ev’n in thought. Then if your violence deface this building, The workmanship of heav‘n, you do kill your honour, Abuse your justice, and impoverish me. My yet good lord, if there be fire before me, Must I straight fly and burn myself? Suppose this house— Which too too many feel such houses are— Should be the doctor’s patrimony, and The surgeon’s feeding; follows it, that I Must needs infect myself to give them maint’nance?
LYSIMACHUS	How’s this, how’s this? Some more. Be sage.
(didascalia)	MARINA kneeling For me
LYSIMACHUS	That am a maid, though most ungentle fortune Have franked me in this sty, where since I came Diseases have been sold dearer than physic— That the gods would set me free from this unhallowed place, Though they did change me to the meanest bird That flies i’th’ purer air!
(didascalia)	LYSIMACHUS moved I did not think
LYSIMACHUS	Thou couldst have spoke so well, ne’er dreamt thou couldst.
(didascalia)	He lifts her up with his hands
LYSIMACHUS	Though I brought hither a corrupted mind, Thy speech hath altered it,
(didascalia)	He wipes the wet from her eyes and my foul thoughts
LYSIMACHUS	Thy tears so well hath laved that they’re now white. I came here meaning but to pay the price, A piece of gold for thy virginity; Here’s twenty to relieve thine honesty. Persever still in that clear way thou goest, And the gods strengthen thee.
MARINA	The good gods preserve you!
LYSIMACHUS	The very doors and windows savour vilely. Fare thee well. Thou art a piece of virtue, The best wrought up that ever nature made, And I doubt not thy training hath been noble. A curse upon him, die he like a thief, That robs thee of thy honour. Hold, here’s more gold. If thou dost hear from me, it shall be for thy good.
(didascalia)	Enter Boult standing ready at the door, making his obeisance unto him as Lysimachus should go out
BOULT	I beseech your honour, one piece for me.
LYSIMACHUS	Avaunt, thou damned door-keeper! Your house, but for this virgin that doth prop it, Would sink and overwhelm you. Away. Exit
BOULT	How’s this? We must take another course with you. If your peevish chastity, which is not worth a breakfast in the cheapest country under the cope, shall undo a whole household, let me be gelded like a spaniel. Come your ways.
MARINA	Whither would you have me?
BOULT	I must have your maidenhead taken off, or the common executioner shall do it. We’ll have no more gentlemen driven away. Come your ways, I say.
(didascalia)	Enter Bawd and Pander
BAWD	How now, what’s the matter?
BOULT	Worse and worse, mistress, she has here spoken holy words to the Lord Lysimachus.
BAWD	O, abominable!
BOULT	She makes our profession as it were to stink afore the face of the gods.
BAWD	Marry hang her up for ever!
BOULT	The nobleman would have dealt with her like a nobleman, and she sent him away as cold as a snowball, saying his prayers, too.
(didascalia)	PANDER Boult, take her away. Use her at thy pleasure. Crack the ice of her virginity, and make the rest malleable.
BOULT	An if she were a thornier piece of ground than she is, she shall be ploughed.
MARINA	Hark, hark, you gods!
BAWD	She conjures. Away with her! Would she had never come within my doors.—Marry, hang you!—She’s born to undo us.—Will you not go the way of womenkind? Marry, come up, my dish of chastity with rosemary and bays. Exeunt Bawd and Pander
(didascalia)	BOULT catching her rashly by the hand Come, mistress, come your way with me.
MARINA	Whither wilt thou have me?
BOULT	To take from you the jewel you hold so dear.
MARINA	Prithee, tell me one thing first.
BOULT	Come, now, your one thing.
MARINA	What canst thou wish thine enemy to be?
BOULT	Why, I could wish him to be my master, or rather my mistress.
MARINA	Neither of these can be so bad as thou art, Since they do better thee in their command. Thou hold‘st a place the painèd’st fiend of hell Would not in reputation change with thee, Thou damned doorkeeper to ev‘ry coistrel That comes enquiring for his Tib. To th’ choleric fisting of ev’ry rogue Thy ear is liable. Thy food is such As hath been belched on by infected lungs.
BOULT	What would you have me do? Go to the wars, would you, where a man may serve seven years for the loss of a leg, and have not money enough in the end to buy him a wooden one?
MARINA	Do anything but this thou dost. Empty Old receptacles or common sew’rs of filth, Serve by indenture to the public hangman— Any of these are yet better than this. For what thou professest a baboon, could he speak, Would own a name too dear. Here’s gold for thee. If that thy master would make gain by me, Proclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance, With other virtues which I’ll keep from boast, And I will undertake all these to teach. I doubt not but this populous city will Yield many scholars.
BOULT	But can you teach all this you speak of?
MARINA	Prove that I cannot, take me home again And prostitute me to the basest groom That doth frequent your house.
BOULT	Well, I will see what I can do for thee. If I can place thee, I will.
MARINA	But amongst honest women.
BOULT	Faith, my acquaintance lies little amongst them; but since my master and mistress hath bought you, there’s no going but by their consent. Therefore I will make them acquainted with your purpose, and I doubt not but I shall find them tractable enough. Come, I’ll do for thee what I can. Come your ways.
(didascalia)	Exeunt. The sign is removed
BOULT	Sc. 20 Enter Gower
GOWER	Marina thus the brothel scapes, and chances Into an honest house, our story says. She sings like one immortal, and she dances As goddess-like to her admired lays. Deep clerks she dumbs, and with her nee‘le composes Nature’s own shape, of bud, bird, branch, or berry, That e’en her art sisters the natural roses. Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied cherry; That pupils lacks she none of noble race, Who pour their bounty on her, and her gain She gives the cursed Bawd. Here we her place, And to her father turn our thoughts again. We left him on the sea. Waves there him tossed, Whence, driven tofore the winds, he is arrived Here where his daughter dwells, and on this coast Suppose him now at anchor. The city strived God Neptune’s annual feast to keep, from whence Lysimachus our Tyrian ship espies, His banners sable, trimmed with rich expense; And to him in his barge with fervour hies. In your supposing once more put your sight; Of heavy Pericles think this the barque, Where what is done in action, more if might, Shall be discovered. Please you sit and hark. Exit
(didascalia)	Sc. 21 Enter Helicanus above; below, enter to him at the first door two Sailors, one of Tyre, the other of Mytilene
SAILOR OF TYRE	(to Sailor of Mytilene) Lord Helicanus can resolve you, sir. (To Helicanus) There is a barge put off from Mytilene. In it, Lysimachus, the governor, Who craves to come aboard. What is your will?
HELICANUS	That he have his.
(didascalia)	Exit Sailor of Mytilene at first door Call up some gentlemen.
(didascalia)	Exit Helicanus above
(didascalia)	SAILOR OF TYRE
HELICANUS	Ho, my lord calls!
(didascalia)	Enter from below the stage two or three Gentlemen; to them, enter Helicanus
FIRST GENTLEMAN	What is your lordship’s pleasure?
HELICANUS	Gentlemen, some of worth would come aboard. I pray you, greet him fairly.
(didascalia)	Enter Lysimachus at first door, with the Sailor and Lords of Mytilene
(didascalia)	SAILOR OF MYTILENE (to Lysimachus)
HELICANUS	This is the man that can in aught resolve you.
LYSIMACHUS	(to Helicanus) Hail, reverend sir; the gods preserve you!
HELICANUS	And you, sir, to outlive the age I am, And die as I would do.
LYSIMACHUS	You wish me well. I am the governor of Mytilene; Being on shore, honouring of Neptune’s triumphs, Seeing this goodly vessel ride before us, I made to it to know of whence you are.
HELICANUS	Our vessel is of Tyre, in it our king, A man who for this three months hath not spoken To anyone, nor taken sustenance But to prorogue his grief.
LYSIMACHUS	Upon what ground grew his distemp’rature?
HELICANUS	’Twould be too tedious to tell it over, But the main grief springs from the precious loss Of a belovèd daughter and a wife.
LYSIMACHUS	May we not see him?
HELICANUS	See him, sir, you may, But bootless is your sight. He will not speak To any.
LYSIMACHUS	Let me yet obtain my wish.
HELICANUS	Behold him. Helicanus draws a curtain, revealing Pericles lying upon a couch with a long overgrown beard, diffused hair, undecent nails on his fingers, and attired in sack-cloth This was a goodly person Till the disaster of one mortal night Drove him to this.
LYSIMACHUS	(to Pericles) Sir, King, all hail. Hail, royal sir.
(didascalia)	Pericles shrinks himself down upon his pillow
HELICANUS	It is in vain. He will not speak to you.
LORD OF MYTILENE	Sir, we have a maid in Mytilene I durst wager Would win some words of him.
LYSIMACHUS	’Tis well bethought. She questionless, with her sweet harmony And other choice attractions, would alarum And make a batt‘ry through his deafened ports, Which now are midway stopped. She in all happy, As the fair’st of all, among her fellow maids Dwells now i’th’ leafy shelter that abuts Against the island’s side. Go fetch her hither.
(didascalia)	Exit Lord
HELICANUS	Sure, all effectless; yet nothing we’ll omit That bears recov’ry’s name. But since your kindness We have stretched thus far, let us beseech you That for our gold we may provision have, Wherein we are not destitute for want, But weary for the staleness.
LYSIMACHUS	O sir, a courtesy Which if we should deny, the most just gods For every graft would send a caterpillar, And so inflict our province. Yet once more Let me entreat to know at large the cause Of your king’s sorrow.
HELICANUS	Sit, sir. I will recount it.
(didascalia)	Enter Lord with Marina and another maid
HELICANUS	But see, I am prevented.
LYSIMACHUS	O, here’s the lady that I sent for.— Welcome, fair one.—Is’t not a goodly presence? HELICANUS She’s a gallant lady.
LYSIMACHUS	She’s such a one that, were I well assured Came of gentle kind or noble stock, I’d wish No better choice to think me rarely wed.— Fair one, all goodness that consists in bounty Expect e’en here, where is a kingly patient; If that thy prosperous and artificial feat Can draw him but to answer thee in aught, Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay As thy desires can wish.
MARINA	Sir, I will use My utmost skill in his recure, provided That none but I and my companion maid Be suffered to come near him.
LYSIMACHUS	(to the others) Let us leave her,
(didascalia)	And the gods prosper her. The men stand aside
LYSIMACHUS	The Song
(didascalia)	LYSIMACHUS coming forward Marked he your music? MAID
LYSIMACHUS	No, nor looked on us.
LYSIMACHUS	(to the others) See, she will speak to him.
MARINA	(to Pericles) Hail, sir; my lord, lend ear.
PERICLES	Hmh, ha!
(didascalia)	He roughly repulses her
MARINA	I am a maid, My lord, that ne‘er before invited eyes, But have been gazed on like a comet. She speaks, My lord, that maybe hath endured a grief Might equal yours, if both were justly weighed. Though wayward fortune did malign my state, My derivation was from ancestors Who stood equivalent with mighty kings, But time hath rooted out my parentage, And to the world and awkward casualties Bound me in servitude. (Aside) I will desist. But there is something glows upon my cheek, And whispers in mine ear ‘Stay till he speak.’
PERICLES	My fortunes, parentage, good parentage, To equal mine? Was it not thus? What say you?
MARINA	I said if you did know my parentage, My lord, you would not do me violence.
PERICLES	I do think so. Pray you, turn your eyes upon me. You’re like something that—what countrywoman? Here of these shores?
MARINA	No, nor of any shores, Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am No other than I seem.
(didascalia)	PERICLES aside
MARINA	I am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping. My dearest wife was like this maid, and such My daughter might have been. My queen’s square brows, Her stature to an inch, as wand-like straight, As silver-voiced, her eyes as jewel-like, And cased as richly, in pace another Juno, Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry The more she gives them speech.—Where do you live?
MARINA	Where I am but a stranger. From the deck You may discern the place.
PERICLES	Where were you bred, And how achieved you these endowments which You make more rich to owe?
MARINA	If I should tell My history, it would seem like lies Disdained in the reporting.
PERICLES	Prithee speak. Falseness cannot come from thee, for thou look‘st Modest as justice, and thou seem’st a palace For the crowned truth to dwell in. I will believe thee, And make my senses credit thy relation To points that seem impossible. Thou show‘st Like one I loved indeed. What were thy friends? Didst thou not say, when I did push thee back— Which was when I perceived thee—that thou cam’st From good descending?
MARINA	So indeed I did.
PERICLES	Report thy parentage. I think thou said‘st Thou hadst been tossed from wrong to injury, And that thou thought’st thy griefs might equal mine, If both were opened.
MARINA	Some such thing I said, And said no more but what my circumstance Did warrant me was likely.
PERICLES	Tell thy story. If thine considered prove the thousandth part Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I Have suffered like a girl. Yet thou dost look Like patience gazing on kings’ graves, and smiling Extremity out of act. What were thy friends? How lost thou them? Thy name, my most kind virgin? Recount, I do beseech thee. Come, sit by me. She sits
MARINA	My name, sir, is Marina.
PERICLES	O, I am mocked, And thou by some incensed god sent hither To make the world to laugh at me.
MARINA	Patience, good sir, Or here I’ll cease.
PERICLES	Nay, I’ll be patient. Thou little know’st how thou dost startle me To call thyself Marina.
MARINA	The name Was given me by one that had some power: My father, and a king.
PERICLES	How, a king’s daughter, And called Marina?
MARINA	You said you would believe me, But not to be a troubler of your peace I will end here.
PERICLES	But are you flesh and blood? Have you a working pulse and are no fairy? Motion as well? Speak on. Where were you born, And wherefore called Marina?
MARINA	Called Marina For I was born at sea.
PERICLES	At sea? What mother?
MARINA	My mother was the daughter of a king, Who died when I was born, as my good nurse Lychorida hath oft recounted weeping.
(didascalia)	O, stop there a little! Aside This is the rarest dream
PERICLES	That e’er dulled sleep did mock sad fools withal. This cannot be my daughter, buried. Well. (To Marina) Where were you bred? I’ll hear you more to th’ bottom Of your story, and never interrupt you.
MARINA	You will scarce believe me. ‘Twere best I did give o’er.
PERICLES	I will believe you by the syllable Of what you shall deliver. Yet give me leave. How came you in these parts? Where were you bred?
MARINA	The King my father did in Tarsus leave me, Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife, Did seek to murder me, and wooed a villain To attempt the deed; who having drawn to do’t, A crew of pirates came and rescued me. To Mytilene they brought me. But, good sir, What will you of me? Why do you weep? It may be You think me an impostor. No, good faith, I am the daughter to King Pericles, If good King Pericles be.
PERICLES	rising Ho, Helicanus!
HELICANUS	(coming forward) Calls my lord?
PERICLES	Thou art a grave and noble counsellor, Most wise in gen’ral. Tell me if thou canst What this maid is, or what is like to be, That thus hath made me weep.
HELICANUS	I know not. But here’s the regent, sir, of Mytilene Speaks nobly of her.
LYSIMACHUS	She would never tell Her parentage. Being demanded that, She would sit still and weep.
PERICLES	O Helicanus, strike me, honoured sir, Give me a gash, put me to present pain, Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me O‘erbear the shores of my mortality And drown me with their sweetness! (To Marina) O, come hither,
(didascalia)	Marina stands
PERICLES	Thou that begett’st him that did thee beget, Thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus, And found at sea again!—O Helicanus, Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods as loud As thunder threatens us, this is Marina! (To Marina) What was thy mother’s name? Tell me but that, For truth can never be confirmed enough, Though doubts did ever sleep.
MARINA	First, sir, I pray, What is your title?
PERICLES	I am Pericles Of Tyre. But tell me now my drowned queen’s name. As in the rest thou hast been godlike perfect, So prove but true in that, thou art my daughter, The heir of kingdoms, and another life To Pericles thy father.
(didascalia)	MARINA kneeling Is it no more
PERICLES	To be your daughter than to say my mother’s name? Thaisa was my mother, who did end The minute I began.
PERICLES	Now blessing on thee! Rise. Thou art my child.
(didascalia)	Marina stands. He kisses her
(didascalia)	To attendants Give me fresh garments.—Mine own,
PERICLES	Helicanus! Not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been By savage Cleon. She shall tell thee all, When thou shalt kneel and justify in knowledge She is thy very princess. Who is this?
HELICANUS	Sir, ’tis the governor of Mytilene, Who, hearing of your melancholy state, Did come to see you.
PERICLES	(to Lysimachus) I embrace you, sir.— Give me my robes.
(didascalia)	He is attired in fresh robes
PERICLES	I am wild in my beholding. O heavens, bless my girl!
(didascalia)	Celestial music
PERICLES	But hark, what music? Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him O’er point by point, for yet he seems to doubt, How sure you are my daughter. But what music?
HELICANUS	My lord, I hear none.
PERICLES	None? The music of the spheres! List, my Marina.
LYSIMACHUS	(aside to the others) It is not good to cross him. Give him way.
PERICLES	Rar’st sounds. Do ye not hear?
LYSIMACHUS	Music, my lord?
PERICLES	I hear most heav’nly music. It raps me unto list’ning, and thick slumber Hangs upon mine eyelids. Let me rest. He sleeps
LYSIMACHUS	A pillow for his head.
(didascalia)	To Marina and others Companion friends,
LYSIMACHUS	If this but answer to my just belief I’ll well remember you. So leave him all.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Pericles
(didascalia)	Diana descends from the heavens
DIANA	My temple stands in Ephesus. Hie thee thither, And do upon mine altar sacrifice. There when my maiden priests are met together, At large discourse thy fortunes in this wise: With a full voice before the people all, Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife. To mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter‘s, call And give them repetition to the life. Perform my bidding, or thou liv’st in woe; Do’t, and rest happy, by my silver bow. Awake, and tell thy dream.
(didascalia)	Diana ascends into the heavens
PERICLES	Celestial Dian, goddess argentine, I will obey thee. (Calling) Helicanus!
(didascalia)	Enter Helicanus, Lysimachus, and Marina
HELICANUS	Sir?
PERICLES	My purpose was for Tarsus, there to strike Th’inhospitable Cleon, but I am For other service first. Toward Ephesus Turn our blown sails. Eftsoons I’ll tell thee why.
(didascalia)	Exit Helicanus
PERICLES	Shall we refresh us, sir, upon your shore, And give you gold for such provision As our intents will need?
LYSIMACHUS	With all my heart, sir, And when you come ashore I have a suit.
PERICLES	You shall prevail, were it to woo my daughter, For it seems you have been noble towards her.
LYSIMACHUS	Sir, lend me your arm.
PERICLES	Come, my Marina.
(didascalia)	Exit Pericles with Lysimachus at one arm, Marina at the other
PERICLES	Sc. 22 Enter Gower
GOWER	Now our sands are almost run; More a little, and then dumb. This my last boon give me, For such kindness must relieve me, That you aptly will suppose What pageantry, what feats, what shows, What minstrelsy and pretty din The regent made in Mytilene To greet the King. So well he thrived That he is promised to be wived To fair Marina, but in no wise Till he had done his sacrifice As Dian bade, whereto being bound The int’rim, pray you, all confound. In feathered briefness sails are filled, And wishes fall out as they’re willed. At Ephesus the temple see:
(didascalia)	An altar, Thaisa and other vestals are revealed
GOWER	Our king, and all his company.
(didascalia)	Enter Pericles, Marina, Lysimachus, Helicanus, Cerimon, with attendants
GOWER	That he can hither come so soon Is by your fancies’ thankful doom.
(didascalia)	Gower stands aside
PERICLES	Hail, Dian. To perform thy just command I here confess myself the King of Tyre, Who, frighted from my country, did espouse The fair Thaisa
(didascalia)	Thaisa starts
PERICLES	at Pentapolis. At sea in childbed died she, but brought forth A maid child called Marina, who, O goddess, Wears yet thy silver liv‘ry. She at Tarsus Was nursed with Cleon, whom at fourteen years He sought to murder, but her better stars Bore her to Mytilene, ’gainst whose shore riding Her fortunes brought the maid aboard our barque, Where, by her own most clear remembrance, she Made known herself my daughter.
THAISA	Voice and favour— You are, you are—O royal Pericles! She falls
PERICLES	What means the nun? She dies. Help, gentlemen!
CERIMON	Noble sir, If you have told Diana’s altar true, This is your wife.
PERICLES	Reverend appearer, no. I threw her overboard with these same arms.
CERIMON	Upon this coast, I warr’nt you.
PERICLES	’Tis most certain.
CERIMON	Look to the lady. O, she’s but o’erjoyed. Early one blustering morn this lady Was thrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin, Found there rich jewels, recovered her, and placed her Here in Diana’s temple.
PERICLES	May we see them?
CERIMON	Great sir, they shall be brought you to my house, Whither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is Recovered.
THAISA	O, let me look upon him! If he be none of mine, my sanctity Will to my sense bend no licentious ear, But curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord, Are you not Pericles? Like him you spake, Like him you are. Did you not name a tempest, A birth and death?
PERICLES	The voice of dead Thaisa! THAISA That Thaisa Am I, supposed dead and drowned.
(didascalia)	PERICLES taking Thaisa’s hand Immortal Dian!
THAISA	Now I know you better. When we with tears parted Pentapolis, The King my father gave you such a ring.
PERICLES	This, this! No more, you gods. Your present kindness Makes my past miseries sports; you shall do well That on the touching of her lips I may Melt, and no more be seen.—O come, be buried A second time within these arms.
(didascalia)	They embrace and kiss
MARINA	(kneeling to Thaisa) My heart Leaps to be gone into my mother’s bosom.
PERICLES	Look who kneels here: flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa, Thy burden at the sea, and called Marina For she was yielded there.
(didascalia)	THAISA embracing Marina Blessed, and mine own! HELICANUS kneeling to Thaisa
PERICLES	Hail, madam, and my queen.
THAISA	I know you not.
PERICLES	You have heard me say, when I did fly from Tyre, I left behind an ancient substitute. Can you remember what I called the man? I have named him oft.
THAISA	’Twas Helicanus then.
PERICLES	Still confirmation. Embrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he. Now do I long to hear how you were found, How possibly preserved, and who to thank— Besides the gods—for this great miracle.
THAISA	Lord Cerimon, my lord. This is the man Through whom the gods have shown their pow’r, that can From first to last resolve you.
PERICLES	(to Cerimon) Reverend sir, The gods can have no mortal officer More like a god than you. Will you deliver How this dead queen re-lives?
CERIMON	I will, my lord. Beseech you, first go with me to my house, Where shall be shown you all was found with her, And told how in this temple she came placed, No needful thing omitted.
PERICLES	Pure Diana, I bless thee for thy vision, and will offer Nightly oblations to thee.—Beloved Thaisa, This prince, the fair betrothed of your daughter, At Pentapolis shall marry her. (To Marina) And now this ornament Makes me look dismal will I clip to form, And what this fourteen years no razor touched, To grace thy marriage day I’ll beautify.
THAISA	Lord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, Sir, from Pentapolis: my father’s dead.
PERICLES	Heav’n make a star of him! Yet there, my queen, We’ll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves Will in that kingdom spend our following days. Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.— Lord Cerimon, we do our longing stay To hear the rest untold. Sir, lead ’s the way.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Gower
GOWER	In Antiochus and his daughter you have heard Of monstrous lust the due and just reward; In Pericles, his queen, and daughter seen, Although assailed with fortune fierce and keen, Virtue preserved from fell destruction’s blast, Led on by heav’n, and crowned with joy at last. In Helicanus may you well descry A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty. In reverend Cerimon there well appears The worth that learned charity aye wears. For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame Had spread their cursed deed to th’ honoured name Of Pericles, to rage the city turn, That him and his they in his palace burn. The gods for murder seemed so content To punish that, although not done, but meant. So on your patience evermore attending, New joy wait on you. Here our play has ending.
(didascalia)	Exit
ADDITIONAL PASSAGES	Q gives this more expansive version of Marina’s Epitaph (18.347): ’The fairest, sweetest, best lies here, Who withered in her spring of year. She was of Tyrus the King’s daughter, On whom foul death hath made this slaughter. Marina was she called, and at her birth Thetis, being proud, swallowed some part o‘th’ earth; Therefore the earth, fearing to be o’erflowed, Hath Thetis’ birth-child on the heav‘ns bestowed, Wherefore she does, and swears she’ll never stint, Make raging batt’ry upon shores of flint.’
FOR	Coriolanus, Shakespeare turned once more to Roman history as told by Plutarch and translated by Sir Thomas North in the Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans published in 1579. This time he dramatized early events, not much subsequent to those he had written about many years previously in The Rape of Lucrece. Plutarch gave him most of his material, but he also drew on other writings, including William Camden’s Remains of a Greater Work Concerning Britain, published in 1605, for Menenius’ fable of the belly (I.I) Though he needed no source other than Plutarch for the insurrections and corn riots of ancient Rome, similar happenings in England during 1607 and 1608 may have stimulated his interest in the story. The cumulative evidence suggests that Coriolanus, first printed in the 1623 Folio, is Shakespeare’s last Roman play, written around 1608. In the fifth century BC, following the expulsion of the Tarquins, Rome was an aristocratically controlled republic in which power was invested primarily in two annually elected magistrates, or consuls. For many years the main issues confronting the republic were the internal class struggle between patricians and plebeians, and the external struggle for domination over neighbouring peoples. Among the republic’s early enemies were the Volsci (or Volscians), who inhabited an area to the south and south-east of Rome; their towns included Antium and Corioli. According to ancient historians, Rome’s greatest leader in campaigns against the Volsci was the patrician Gnaeus (or Caius) Marcius, who, at a time of famine which caused the plebeians to rebel against the patricians, led an army against the Volsci and captured Corioli; as a reward he was granted the cognomen, or surname, of Coriolanus. After this he is said to have been charged with behaving tyrannically in opposing the distribution of corn to starving plebeians, and as a result to have abandoned Rome, joined the Volsci, and led a Volscian army against his native city. This is the story of conflict between public and private issues that Shakespeare dramatizes, concentrating on the later part of Plutarch’s Life and speeding up its time-scheme, while also alluding retrospectively to earlier incidents. He increases the responsibility of the Tribunes, Sicinius Velutus and Junius Brutus, for Coriolanus’ banishment, and greatly develops certain characters, such as the Volscian leader Tullus Aufidius and the patrician Menenius Agrippa. The roles of the womenfolk are almost entirely of Shakespeare’s devising up to the scene (5.3) of their embassy; here, as in certain other set speeches, Shakespeare draws heavily on the language of North’s translation. Coriolanus is an austere play, gritty in style, deeply serious in its concern with the relationship between personal characteristics and national destiny, but relieved by flashes of comedy (especially in the scenes in which Coriolanus begs for the plebeians’ votes in his election campaign for the consulship) which are more apparent on the stage than on the page. Though Coriolanus is arrogant, choleric, and self-centered, he is also a blazingly successful warrior, conspicuous for integrity, who ultimately yields to a tenderness which, he knows, will destroy him. Coriolanus is a deeply human as well as a profoundly political play.
THE PERSONS OF THE	PLAY VOLUMNIA, Coriolanus’ mother VIRGILIA, his wife
YOUNG	MARTIUS, his son VALERIA, a chaste lady of Rome
CITIZENS	of Rome
SOLDIERS	in the Roman army Tullus AUFIDIUS, general of the Volscian army His LIEUTENANT His SERVINGMEN
CONSPIRATORS	with Aufidius Volscian LORDS Volscian CITIZENS
SOLDIERS	in the Volscian army ADRIAN, a Volscian NICANOR, a Roman A Roman HERALD
AEDILES	A gentlewoman, an usher, Roman and Volscian senators and nobles, captains in the Roman army, officers, lictors