The gods requite his
charity!
If thou livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart
That ever cracks for woe! This chanc'd to-night.
SECOND GENTLEMAN. Most likely, sir.
CERIMON. Nay, certainly to-night;
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'erpress'd spirits. I heard of an Egyptian
That had nine hours lien dead,
Who was by good
appliance recovered.
Re-enter a servant, with boxes, 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.
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 entranc'd
Above five hours. See how she gins to blow
Into life's flower 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
heavenly jewels
Which Pericles hath lost, begin to part
Their fringes of bright gold; the diamonds
Of a most praised water do 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 look'd to,
For her relapse is mortal.
Come, come; and Aesculapius guide us!
Exeunt, carrying her away
SCENE 3.
Tharsus. CLEON'S house
Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, and LYCHORIDA
with MARINA in her arms
PERICLES. Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;
My twelve months are expir'd, and Tyrus stands
In a litigious peace. You and your lady
Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods
Make up the rest upon you!
CLEON. Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,
Yet glance full wand'ringly on us.
DIONYZA. O your sweet queen!
That the
strict Fates had pleas'd you had brought her
hither,
To have bless'd 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 nam'd so, here
I
charge your
charitywithal, leaving her
The
infant of your care;
beseeching you
To give her
princely training, that she may
Be manner'd 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 reliev'd, 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,
Unscissor'd 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 the mask'd 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
SCENE 4.
Ephesus. CERIMON'S house
Enter CERIMON 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 shipp'd at sea I well remember,
Even on my caning 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
ACT IV.
Enter GOWER
GOWER. Imagine Pericles arriv'd at Tyre,
Welcom'd and settled to his own desire.
His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,
Unto Diana there a votaress.
Now to Marina bend your mind,
Whom our fast-growing scene must find
At Tharsus, and by Cleon train'd
In music, letters; who hath gain'd
Of education all the grace,
Which makes her both the heart and place
Of general 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 hath our Cleon
One daughter, and a wench full grown,
Even 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 she weav'd the sleided silk
With fingers long, small, white as milk;
Or when she would with sharp
needle 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
The dove of Paphos might with 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
murderer does prepare
For good Marina, that her daughter
Might stand
peerless by this slaughter.
The sooner her vile thoughts to stead,
Lychorida, our nurse, is dead;
And cursed Dionyza hath
The
pregnantinstrument of wrath
Prest for this blow. The
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.
Dionyza does appear,
With Leonine, a
murderer. Exit
SCENE 1.
Tharsus. An open place near the seashore
Enter DIONYZA and LEONINE
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 in the world so soon
To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience,
Which is but cold, inflaming love in thy bosom,
Inflame too
nicely; nor let pity, which
Even 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.
Here she comes
weeping for her only
mistress' death.
Thou art resolv'd?
LEONINE. I am resolv'd.
Enter MARINA with a basket of flowers
MARINA. No, I will rob Tellus of her weed,
To strew thy green with flowers. The yellows, blues,
The
purple violets, and marigolds,
Shall as a
carpet hang upon thy grave
While summer days do last. Ay me! poor maid,
Born in a
tempest, when my mother died,
This world to me is like a
lasting storm,
Whirring me from my friends.
DIONYZA. How now, Marina! Why do you keep alone?