They're well dispatch'd; 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.

"Tis well, mistress; your choice agrees with mine;
I like that well: nay, how absolute she's in't,
Not minding whether I dislike or no!
Well, I do commend her choice;
And will no longer have it be delay'd.
Soft! here he comes: I must dissemble it.

Enter PERICLES.

Per. All fortune to the good Simonides! Sim. To you as much, sir! I'm beholding to you For your sweet music this last night: I do Protest my ears were never better fed With such delightful pleasing harmony.

Per. It is your grace's pleasure to commend; Not my desert.

Sim.

Sir, you are music's master.

Per. The worst of all her scholars, my good lord.
Sim. Let me ask you one thing:

sir?

What do you think of my daughter,
Per. A most virtuous princess.
Sim. And she is fair too, is she not?
Per. As a fair day in summer,

wondrous fair.

Sim. Sir, my daughter thinks very well of you;

Ay, so well, that you must be her master,
And she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.
Per. I am unworthy for her schoolmaster.

Sim. She thinks not so; peruse this writing else.
Per. [aside] What's here?

A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!
"Tis the king's subtilty to have my life.
O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord,
A stranger and distressed gentleman,

That never aim'd so high to love your daughter,
But bent all offices to honour her.

Sim. Thou hast bewitch'd my daughter, and thou art A villain.

Per. By the gods, I have not:

Never did thought of mine levy offence;

Nor never did my actions yet commence

A deed might gain her love or your displeasure.
Sim. Traitor, thou liest.

That calls me traitor, I return the lie.

Sim. [aside] Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage.
Per. My actions are as noble as my thoughts,

That never relish'd of a base descent.

I came unto your court for honour's cause,

And not to be a rebel to her state;

And he that otherwise accounts of me,

This sword shall prove he's honour's enemy.
Sim. No?

Here comes my daughter, she can witness it!

Enter THAISA.

Per. Then, as you are as virtuous as fair,
Resolve your angry father, if my tongue
Did e'er solicit, or my hand subscribe
To any syllable that made love to you.
Thai. Why, sir, say if you had,

Who takes offence at that would make me glad?
Sim. Yea, mistress, are you so perémptory?
[Aside] I am glad on't with all my heart.

I'll tame you; 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.

Therefore hear you, mistress; either frame

and you, sir,

hear you,

Your will to mine,
Either be rul'd by me, or I will make you -
Man and wife:

Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too;
And being join'd, I'll thus your hopes destroy;
And for a further grief, God give you joy!-
What, are you both pleas'd?

Thai.
Per. Even as my life, or blood that fosters it.
Sim. What, are you both agreed?

Yes, if you love me, sir.

Both.

Yes, if't please your majesty.

Sim. It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you wed; And then with what haste you can get you to bed. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

Enter GoWER.

Gow. Now sleep yslakèd hath the rout;
No din but snores the house about,
Made louder by the o'er-fed 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,
Aye 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, from one side, PERICLES and SIMONIDES with Attendants; a Messenger meets them, kneels, and gives PERICLES a letter: he shows it to SIMONIDES; the Lords kneel to PERICLES. Then enter THAISA with child, and LYCHORIDA. SIMONIDES shows

his daughter the letter; she rejoices: she and PERICLES take leave of her father, and depart with LYCHORIDA and their Attendants. Then exeunt SIMONIDES and the rest.

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 the court of King Simonides

Are letters brought, the tenour 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,

Yravished the regions round,

And every one with claps can sound,

"Our heir-apparent is a king!

Who dream'd, 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 grisly north
Disgorges such a tempest forth,

Shakespeare. VII.

3

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-tost Pericles appears to speak.

SCENE I.

Enter PERICLES, on shipboard.

[Exit.

Per. 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 recall'd them from the deep! O, still

Thy deafening, dreadful thunders; gently quench
Thy nimble, sulphurous flashes! O, how, 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 travail!

Enter LYCHORIDA, with an Infant.

Now, Lychorida!

Lyc. 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.

Per.

How, how, Lychorida!