Pericles

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Original text
Enter Gower.
Now sleepe yslacked hath the rout,
No din but snores about the house,
Made louder by the orefed breast,
Of this most pompous maryage Feast:
The Catte with eyne of burning cole,
Now coutches from the Mouses hole;
And Cricket sing at the Ouens mouth,
Are the blyther for their drouth:
Hymen hath brought the Bride to bed,
Where by the losse of maydenhead,
A Babe is moulded: be attent,
And Time that is so briefly spent,
With your fine fancies quaintly each,
What's dumbe in shew, I'le plaine with speach.

Enter Pericles and Symonides at one dore with
attendantes, a Messenger meetes them, kneeles and giues
Pericles a letter, Pericles shewes it Symonides, the
Lords kneele to him; then enter Thaysa with child, with
Lichorida a nurse, the King shewes her the letter,
she reioyces: she and Pericles take leaue of her father,
and depart.
By many a dearne and painefull pearch
Of Perycles the carefull search,
By the fower opposing Crignes,
Which the world togeather ioynes,
Is made with all due diligence,
That horse and sayle and hie expence,
Can steed the quest at last from Tyre:
Fame answering the most strange enquire,
To'th Court of King Symonides,
Are Letters brought, the tenour these:
Antiochus and his daughter dead,
The men of Tyrus, on the head
Of Helycanus would set on
The Crowne of Tyre, but he will none:
The mutanie, hee there hastes t'oppresse,
Sayes to'em, if King Pericles
Come not home in twise sixe Moones,
He obedient to their doomes,
Will take the Crowne: the summe of this,
Brought hither to Penlapolis,
Iranyshed the regions round,
And euery one with claps can sound,
Our heyre apparant is a King:
Who dreampt? who thought of such a thing?
Briefe he must hence depart to Tyre,
His Queene with child, makes her desire,
Which who shall crosse along to goe,
Omit we all their dole and woe:
Lichorida her Nurse she takes,
And so to Sea; their vessell shakes,
On Neptunes billow, halfe the flood,
Hath their Keele cut: but fortune mou'd,
Varies againe, the grisled North
Disgorges such a tempest forth,
That as a Ducke for life that diues,
So vp and downe the poore Ship driues:
The Lady shreekes, and wel-a-neare,
Do's fall in trauayle with her feare:
And what ensues in this fell storme,
Shall for it selfe, it selfe performe:
I nill relate, action may
Conueniently the rest conuay;
Which might not? what by me is told,
In your imagination hold:
This Stage, the Ship, vpon whose Decke
The seas tost Pericles appeares to speake.
Original text
Act III, Scene I
Enter Pericles a Shipboard.

Peri.
The God of this great Vast, rebuke these surges,
Which wash both heauen and hell, and thou that hast
Vpon the Windes commaund, bind them in Brasse;
Hauing call'd them from the deepe, ô still
Thy deafning dreadfull thunders, gently quench
Thy nimble sulphirous flashes: ô How Lychorida!
How does my Queene? then storme venomously,
Wilt thou speat all thy selfe? the sea-mans Whistle
Is as a whisper in the eares of death,
Vnheard Lychorida? Lucina, oh!
Diuinest patrionesse, and my wife gentle
To those that cry by night, conuey thy deitie
Aboard our dauncing Boat, make swift the pangues
Of my Queenes trauayles? now Lychorida.
Enter Lychorida.

Lychor.
Heere is a thing too young for such a place,
Who if it had conceit, would die, as I
am like to doe: / Take in your armes this peece
of your dead Queene.

Peri.
How? how Lychorida?

Lycho.
Patience (good sir) do not assist the storme,
Heer's all that is left liuing of your Queene;
A litle Daughter: for the sake of it,
Be manly, and take comfort.

Per.
O you Gods!
Why do you make vs loue your goodly gyfts,
And snatch them straight away? we heere below,
Recall not what we giue, and therein may
Vse honour with you.

Lycho.
Patience (good sir)
euen for this charge.

Per.
Now mylde may be thy life,
For a more blusterous birth had neuer Babe:
Quiet and gentle thy conditions; for
Thou art the rudelyest welcome to this world,
That euer was Princes Child: happy what followes,
Thou hast as chiding a natiuitie,
As Fire, Ayre, Water, Earth, and Heauen can make,
To harould thee from the wombe:
Euen at the first, thy losse is more then can
Thy portage quit, with all thou canst find heere:
Now the good Gods throw their best eyes vpon't.
Enter two Saylers.

1.Sayl.
What courage sir? God saue you.

Per.
Courage enough, I do not feare the flaw,
It hath done to me the worst: yet for the loue
Of this poore Infant, this fresh new sea-farer,
I would it would be quiet.

1.Sayl.
Slake the bolins there; thou wilt not
wilt thou: / Blow and split thy selfe.

2.Sayl.
But Sea-roome, and the brine and cloudy
billow / Kisse the Moone, I care not.

1.
Sir your Queene must ouer board, the sea
workes hie, / The Wind is lowd, and will not lie till the
Ship / Be cleard of the dead.

Per.
That's your superstition.

1.
Pardon vs, sir; with vs at Sea it hath bin
still obserued. And we are strong in easterne, therefore
briefly yeeld'er,

Per.
As you thinke meet; for she must ouer board straight: / Most wretched Queene.

Lychor.
Heere she lyes sir.

Peri.
A terrible Child-bed hast thou had (my deare,
No light, no fire, th'vnfriendly elements,
Forgot thee vtterly, nor haue I time
To giue thee hallowd to thy graue, but straight,
Must cast thee scarcly Coffind, in oare,
Where for a monument vpon thy bones,
The ayre remayning lampes, the belching Whale,
And humming Water must orewelme thy corpes,
Lying with simple shels: ô Lychorida,
Bid Nestor bring me Spices, Incke, and Taper,
My Casket, and my Iewels; and bid Nicander
Bring me the Sattin Coffin: lay the Babe
Vpon the Pillow; hie thee whiles I say
A priestly farewell to her: sodainely, woman.

2.
Sir, we haue a Chist beneath the hatches,
Caulkt and bittumed ready.

Peri.
I thanke thee: Mariner say, what Coast is this?

2.
Wee are neere Tharsus.

Peri.
Thither gentle Mariner,
Alter thy course for Tyre: When canst thou reach it?

2.
By breake of day, if the Wind cease.

Peri.
O make for Tharsus,
There will I visit Cleon, for the Babe
Cannot hold out to Tyrus; there Ile leaue it
At carefull nursing: goe thy wayes good Mariner,
Ile bring the body presently.
Exit.
Original text
Act III, Scene II
Enter Lord Cerymon with a seruant.

Cery.
Phylemon, hoe.
Enter Phylemon.

Phyl.
Doth my Lord call?

Cery.
Get Fire and meat for these poore men,
T'as been a turbulent and stormie night.

Seru.
I haue been in many; but such a night as this,
Till now, I neare endured:

Cery.
Your Maister will be dead ere you returne,
There's nothing can be ministred to Nature,
That can recouer him: giue this to the Pothecary,
And tell me how it workes.
Enter two Gentlemen.

1.Gent.
Good morrow.

2.Gent.
Good morrow to your Lordship,

Cery.
Gentlemen,
why doe you stirre so early?

1.Gent.
Sir,
our lodgings standing bleake vpon the sea
Shooke as the earth did quake:
The very principals did seeme to rend
and all to topple: / Pure surprize and feare,
made me to quite the house.

2.Gent.
That is the cause we trouble you so early,
T'is not our husbandry.

Cery.
O you say well.

1.Gent.
But I much maruaile that your Lordship, / Hauing
rich tire about you, should at these early howers,
Shake off the golden slumber of repose;
tis most strange
Nature should be so conuersant with Paine,
Being thereto not compelled.

Cery.
I hold it euer
Vertue and Cunning, / Were endowments greater,
then Noblenesse & Riches; / Carelesse Heyres,
may the two latter darken and expend;
But Immortalitie attendes the former,
Making a man a god: / T'is knowne, I euer
haue studied Physicke: / Through which secret Art,
by turning ore Authorities, I haue
togeather with my practize, made famyliar,
To me and to my ayde, the blest infusions
that dwels / In Vegetiues, in Mettals, Stones:
and can speake of the / Disturbances
that Nature works, and of her cures; which doth giue me
a more content in course of true delight
Then to be thirsty after tottering honour,
or / Tie my pleasure vp in silken Bagges,
To please the Foole and Death.

2. Gent.
Your honour has
through Ephesus, / Poured foorth your charitie,
and hundreds call themselues, / Your Creatures; who
by you, haue been restored; / And not your knowledge,
your personall payne, / But euen your Purse still open,
hath built Lord Cerimon, / Such strong renowne,
as time shall neuer.
Enter two or three with a Chist.

Seru.
So, lift there.

Cer.
What's that?

Ser.
Sir, euen now
did the sea tosse vp vpon our shore / This Chist;
tis of some wracke.

Cer.
Set't downe, let's looke vpon't.

2.Gent.
T'is like a Coffin, sir.

Cer.
What ere it be,
t'is woondrous heauie; / Wrench it open straight:
If the Seas stomacke be orecharg'd with Gold,
T'is a good constraint of Fortune it belches vpon vs.

2.Gent.
T'is so, my Lord.

Cer.
How close tis caulkt & bottomed,
did the sea cast it vp?

Ser.
I neuer saw so huge a billow sir,
as tost it vpon shore.

Cer.
Wrench it open soft;
it smels most sweetly in my sense.

2.Gent.
A delicate Odour.

Cer.
As euer hit my nostrill: so, vp with it.
Oh you most potent Gods! what's here, a Corse?

2.Gent.
Most strange.

Cer.
Shrowded in Cloth of state, balmed and entreasured
with full bagges of Spices, a Pasport to
Apollo, perfect mee in the Characters:
Heere I giue to vnderstand,
If ere this Coffin driues aland;
I King Pericles haue lost
This Queene, worth all our mundaine cost:
Who finds her, giue her burying,
She was the Daughter of a King:
Besides, this Treasure for a fee,
The Gods requit his charitie.
If thou liuest Pericles, thou hast a heart,
That euer cracks for woe, this chaunc'd to night.

2.Gent.
Most likely sir.

Cer.
Nay certainely to night,
for looke how fresh she looks. / They were too rough,
that threw her in the sea. / Make a Fire within;
fetch hither all my Boxes in my Closet,
Death may vsurpe on Nature many howers,
and yet / The fire of life kindle againe
the ore-prest spirits : I heard
of an Egiptian that had 9. howers lien dead,
Who was by good applyaunce recouered.
Enter one with Napkins and Fire.
Well sayd, well sayd; the fire and clothes:
the rough and / Wofull Musick that we haue,
cause it to sound beseech you:

The Violl once more; how thou stirr'st thou blocke?
The Musicke there:
I pray you giue her ayre:
Gentlemen, this Queene will liue,
Nature awakes a warmth breath out of her;
She hath not been entranc'st aboue fiue howers:
See how she ginnes to blow into lifes flower againe.

1.Gent.
The Heauens, through you, encrease our wonder, / And
sets vp your fame for euer.

Cer.
She is aliue, behold
her ey-lids, Cases to those heauenly iewels
which Pericles hath lost, / Begin to part
their fringes of bright gold, / The Diamonds
of a most praysed water doth appeare,
To make the world twise rich, liue,
and make vs weepe. / To heare your fate, faire creature,
rare as you seeme to bee.
Shee moues.

Thai.
O deare Diana,
where am I? where's my Lord? What world is this?

2.Gent.
Is not this strange?

1.Gent.
Most rare.

Ceri.
Hush (my gentle neighbours)
lend me your hands, / To the next Chamber beare her:
get linnen: / Now this matter must be lookt to
for her relapse / Is mortall: come, come;
and Escelapius guide vs.
They carry her away. Exeunt omnes.
Original text
Act III, Scene III
Enter Pericles, Atharsus, with Cleon and Dionisa.

Per.
Most honor'd Cleon, I must needs be gone,
my twelue months are expir'd, and Tyrus standes
in a litigious peace: / You and your Lady
take from my heart all thankfulnesse, / The Gods
make vp the rest vpon you.

Cle.
Your shakes of fortune,
though they hant you mortally / Yet glaunce
full wondringly on vs.

Di.
O your sweet Queene!
that the strict fates had pleas'd, you had brought her hither
to haue blest mine eies with her.

Per.
We cannot but obey
the powers aboue vs; / Could I rage and rore
as doth the sea she lies in, / Yet the end
must be as tis: my gentle babe Marina,
Whom, for she was borne at sea, I haue named so,
Here I charge your charitie withall; leauing her
The infant of your care, beseeching you
to giue her / Princely training, that she may
be manere'd as she is borne.

Cle.
Feare not (my Lord) but thinke
your Grace, / That fed my Countrie with your Corne;
for which, / The peoples prayers still fall vpon you,
must in your child / Be thought on, if neglection
should therein make me vile, / The common body
by you relieu'd, / Would force me to my duety:
but if to that, / My nature neede a spurre,
the Gods reuenge it / Vpon me and mine,
to the end of generation.

Per.
I beleeue you,
your honour and your goodnes, / Teach me too't
without your vowes, till she be maried, / Madame,
by bright Diana, whom we honour, / All
vnsisterd shall this heyre of mine remayne,
Though I shew will in't; so I take my leaue:
Good Madame, make me blessed in your care
In bringing vp my Child.

Dion.
I haue one my selfe,
who shall not be more deere to my respect
then yours, my Lord.

Peri.
Madam, my thanks and prayers.

Cler.
Weel bring your Grace ene to the edge ath shore,
then giue you vp to the mask'd Neptune, and
the gentlest winds of heauen.

Peri.
I will imbrace
your offer, come deerest Madame, O no teares
Licherida, no teares,
looke to your litle Mistris, on whose grace
you may depend hereafter: come my Lord.
Original text
Act III, Scene IV
Enter Cerimon, and Tharsa.

Cer.
Madam, this Letter, and some certaine Iewels,
Lay with you in your Coffer, which are
at your command: / Know you the Charecter?

Thar.
It is my Lords,
that I was shipt at sea I well remember,
euen on my learning time, but whether there
deliuered, by the holie gods
I cannot rightly say: but since King Pericles
my wedded Lord, I nere shall see againe,
a vastall liuerie will I take me to,
and neuer more haue ioy.

Cler.
Madam, if this you purpose as ye speake,
Dianaes Temple is not distant farre,
Where you may abide till your date expire,
Moreouer if you please a Neece of mine,
Shall there attend you.

Thin.
My recompence is thanks, thats all,
Yet my good will is great, though the gift small.
Exit.
Modern text
III CHORUS
Enter Gower

GOWER
Now sleep y-slacked hath the rout,
No din but snores about the house,
Made louder by the o'erfed breast
Of this most pompous marriage-feast.
The cat, with eyne of burning coal,
Now crouches 'fore the mouse's hole,
And crickets sing at the oven's mouth,
All the blither for their drouth.
Hymen hath brought the bride to bed,
Where, by the loss of maidenhead,
A babe is moulded. Be attent,
And time that is so briefly spent
With your fine fancies quaintly eche:
What's dumb in show, I'll plain with speech.
Dumb-show:
Enter Pericles and Simonides at one door with
attendants. A messenger meets 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 Lychorida. The rest go out
By many a dern and painful perch
Of Pericles the careful search,
By the four opposing coigns
Which the world together joins,
Is made with all due diligence
That horse and sail and high expense
Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre,
Fame answering the most strange inquire,
To 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 he there hastes t' oppress;
Says to 'em, if King Pericles
Come not home in twice six moons,
He, obedient to their dooms,
Will take the crown. The sum of this,
Brought hither to Pentapolis,
Y-ravished the regions round,
And every one with claps can sound,
‘Our heir-apparent is a king!
Who dreamed, who thought of such a thing?'
Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre.
His queen with child makes her desire –
Which who shall cross? – along to go.
Omit we all their dole and woe.
Lychorida her nurse she takes,
And so to sea. Their vessel shakes
On Neptune's billow; half the flood
Hath their keel cut; but fortune's mood
Varies again; the grisled north
Disgorges such a tempest forth
That, as a duck for life that dives,
So up and down the poor ship drives.
The lady shrieks and, well-a-near,
Does fall in travail with her fear.
And what ensues in this fell storm
Shall for itself itself perform.
I nill relate, action may
Conveniently the rest convey,
Which might not what by me is told.
In your imagination hold
This stage the ship, upon whose deck
The sea-tossed Pericles appears to speak.
Exit
Modern text
Act III, Scene I
Enter Pericles a-shipboard

PERICLES
Thou god of this great vast rebuke these surges,
Which wash both heaven and hell. And thou that hast
Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,
Having called them from the deep! O, still
Thy deafening, dreadful thunders, gently quench
Thy nimble, sulphurous flashes! O, how, Lychorida,
How does my queen? Thou storm, 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!
Enter Lychorida with a baby

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,
Even for this charge.

PERICLES
Now, mild may be thy life!
For a more blusterous birth had never babe;
Quiet and gentle thy conditions! for
Thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world
That ever was prince's child. Happy what follows!
Thou hast as chiding a nativity
As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make
To herald thee from the womb. Poor inch of nature!
Even at the first thy loss is more than can
Thy portage quit, with all thou canst find here.
Now the good gods throw their best eyes upon't.
Enter two Sailors

FIRST SAILOR
What courage, sir? God save you!

PERICLES
Courage enough. I do not fear the flaw;
It hath done to me the worst. Yet for the love
Of this poor infant, this fresh new seafarer,
I would it would be quiet.

FIRST SAILOR
Slack the bolins there! – Thou wilt not,
wilt thou? Blow and split thyself.

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

FIRST SAILOR
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 your superstition.

FIRST SAILOR
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.
She reveals the body of Thaisa

PERICLES
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 e'er-remaining lamps, the belching whale
And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,
Lying with simple shells. O Lychorida,
Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,
My casket and my jewels. And bid Nicander
Bring me the satin coffer. Lay the babe
Upon the pillow. Hie thee, whiles I say
A priestly farewell to her. Suddenly, woman.
Exit Lychorida

SECOND SAILOR
Sir, we have a chest beneath the
hatches, caulked and bitumed ready.

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

SECOND SAILOR
We are near Tarsus.

PERICLES
Thither, gentle mariner,
Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it?

SECOND SAILOR
By break of day, if the wind cease.

PERICLES
O, make for Tarsus!
There will I visit Cleon, for the babe
Cannot hold out to Tyrus. There I'll leave it
At careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner;
I'll bring the body presently.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act III, Scene II
Enter Lord Cerimon and two Servants

CERIMON
Philemon, ho!
Enter Philemon

PHILEMON
Doth my lord call?

CERIMON
Get fire and meat for these poor men.
'T'as been a turbulent and stormy night.
Exit Philemon

FIRST SERVANT
I have been in many, but such a night as this
Till now I ne'er endured.

CERIMON
(to First Servant)
Your master will be dead ere you return.
There's nothing can be ministered to nature
That can recover him. (To Second Servant) Give this to the pothecary
And tell me how it works.
Exeunt Servants
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, having
Rich tire about you, should at these early hours
Shake off the golden slumber of repose.
'Tis most strange
Nature should be so conversant with pain,
Being thereto not compelled.

CERIMON
I hold it ever
Virtue and cunning were endowments greater
Than nobleness and riches. Careless heirs
May the two latter darken and expend,
But immortality attends the former,
Making a man a god. 'Tis known I ever
Have studied physic, through which secret art,
By turning o'er authorities, I have,
Together with my practice, made familiar
To me and to my aid the blest infusions
That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;
And I can speak of the disturbances
That nature works, and of her cures; which doth give me
A more content in course of true delight
Than to be thirsty after tottering honour,
Or tie my pleasure up in silken bags,
To please 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 your knowledge,
Your personal pain, but even your purse, still open,
Hath built Lord Cerimon such strong renown
As time shall never–
Enter two or three with a chest

FIRST SERVANT
So, lift there!

CERIMON
What's that?

FIRST SERVANT
Sir, even now
Did the sea toss up upon our shore this chest.
'Tis of 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. Wrench it open straight.
If the sea's stomach be o'ercharged with gold,
'Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us.

SECOND GENTLEMAN
'Tis so, my lord.

CERIMON
How close 'tis caulked and bitumed!
Did the sea cast it up?

FIRST SERVANT
I never saw so huge a billow, sir,
As tossed it upon shore.

CERIMON
Wrench it open. Soft!
It smells most sweetly in my sense.

SECOND GENTLEMAN
A delicate odour.

CERIMON
As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it!
O you most potent gods, what's here? A corse?

FIRST GENTLEMAN
Most strange!

CERIMON
Shrouded in cloth of state, balmed and entreasured
With full bags of spices! A passport too!
Apollo, perfect me in the characters!
He reads the scroll
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 livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart
That ever cracks for woe. This chanced tonight.

SECOND GENTLEMAN
Most likely, sir.

CERIMON
Nay, certainly tonight,
For look how fresh she looks. They were too rough
That threw her in the sea. Make a fire within.
Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet.
Exit a servant
Death may usurp on nature many hours,
And yet the fire of life kindle again
The o'erpressed spirits. I have read
Of some Egyptians who after four hours' death
Have raised impoverished bodies, like to this,
Unto their former health.
Enter one with napkins and fire
Well said, well said, the fire and cloths.
The rough and woeful music that we have,
Cause it to sound, beseech you.
Music plays while Cerimon attends to Thaisa
The viol once more! How thou stirrest, thou block!
The music there!
Music again
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 flower again.

FIRST GENTLEMAN
The heavens, through you, increase our wonder, and
Sets up your fame for ever.

CERIMON
She is alive. Behold,
Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels
Which Pericles hath lost, begin to part
Their fringes of bright gold. The diamonds
Of a most praised water 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, my 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
Modern text
Act III, Scene III
Enter Pericles at Tarsus with Cleon and Dionyza,
and Lychorida with the baby in her arms

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 shakes of fortune,
Though they haunt you mortally, yet glance
Full wonderingly on us.

DIONYZA
O, your sweet queen!
That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither,
To have blessed mine eyes with her.

PERICLES
We cannot but obey
The powers above us. Could I rage and roar
As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end
Must be as 'tis. My gentle babe Marina,
Whom, for she was born at sea, I have named so,
Here I charge your charity withal, leaving 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 prayers 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 the 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 will 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 the masked Neptune, and
The gentlest winds of heaven.

PERICLES
I will embrace
Your offer. Come, dearest madam. O, no tears,
Lychorida, no tears.
Look to your little mistress, on whose grace
You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act III, Scene IV
Enter Cerimon and Thaisa

CERIMON
Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels,
Lay with you in your coffer, which are
At your command. Know you the character?

THAISA
It is my lord's.
That I was shipped at sea I well remember,
Even on my bearing time. But whether there
Delivered, by the holy gods,
I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles,
My wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again,
A vestal livery will I take me to,
And never more have joy.

CERIMON
Madam, if this you purpose as ye speak,
Diana's temple is not distant far,
Where you may abide till your date expire.
Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine
Shall there attend you.

THAISA
My recompense is thanks, that's all;
Yet my good will is great, though the gift small.
Exeunt
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