Pericles

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Pericles Page 7

by William Shakespeare


  To Thaisa

  Therefore hear you, mistress, either frame your will84

  To mine — and you sir, hear you — either be

  Joins their hands

  Ruled by me, or I’ll make you man and wife!

  Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too,

  Pulls their hands apart

  And being joined I’ll thus your hopes destroy,

  Joins their hands again

  And for further grief — God give you joy!

  What, are you both pleased?

  THAISA    Yes, if you love me, sir?

  PERICLES    Even as my life my blood that fosters92 it.

  SIMONIDES    What, are you both agreed?

  BOTH    Yes, if’t please your majesty.

  SIMONIDES    It pleaseth me so well that I will see you wed,

  And then with what haste you can, get you to bed.

  Exeunt

  [Act 3 Chorus]

  running scene 9

  Enter Gower

  GOWER    Now sleep y-slackèd hath the rouse1,

  No din but snores about the house,

  Made louder by the o’erfed breast3

  Of this most pompous4 marriage feast.

  The cat with eyne5 of burning coal

  Now couches from6 the mouse’s hole,

  And crickets sing7 at the oven’s mouth

  Are the blither for their drouth8.

  Hymen9 hath brought the bride to bed,

  Where by the loss of maidenhead10

  A babe is moulded. Be attent11,

  And time that is so briefly12 spent

  With your fine fancies quaintly eche13.

  What’s dumb in show, I’ll plain14 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 and their Attendants. Exeunt Simonides and his train]

  GOWER    By many a dern and painful perch15,

  Of16 Pericles the careful search

  By the four opposing coigns17

  Which the world together joins,

  Is made with all due diligence

  That horse and sail and high expense

  Can stead21 the quest. At last from Tyre —

  Fame answering the most strange inquire22 —

  To th’court of King Simonides

  Are letters brought, the tenor24 these:

  Antiochus and his daughter dead25,

  The men of Tyrus on the head

  Of Helicanus would set on

  The crown of Tyre, but he will none28.

  The mutiny he there hastes t’appease29,

  Says to ’em, if King Pericles

  Come not home in twice six moons31,

  He, obedient to their dooms32,

  Will take the crown. The sum33 of this

  Brought hither to Pentapolis

  Y-ravishèd35 the regions round,

  And everyone with claps can36 sound,

  ‘Our heir apparent37 is a king:

  Who dreamt? Who thought of such a thing?’

  Brief39, he must hence depart to Tyre.

  His queen, with child, makes her desire —

  Which who shall cross41? — along to go:

  Omit we all their dole42 and woe.

  Lychorida her nurse43 she takes,

  And so to sea. Their vessel shakes

  On Neptune’s billow, half the flood

  Hath their keel cut, but Fortune, moved46,

  Varies again. The grizzled north47

  Disgorges such a tempest forth

  That as a duck for life that dives,

  So up and down the poor ship drives50.

  The lady shrieks and, well-a-near51,

  Does fall in travail with her fear.

  And what ensues in this fell53 storm

  Shall for itself, itself perform:

  I nill relate, action55 may

  Conveniently56 the rest convey,

  Which might not what by me is told57.

  In your imagination hold58

  This stage the ship, upon whose deck

  The sea-tossed Pericles appears to speak60.

  [Exit]

  [Act 3 Scene 1]

  running scene 10

  Enter Pericles on shipboard

  PERICLES    The god of this great vast, rebuke these surges1

  Which wash both heaven and hell, and thou2 that hast

  Upon the winds command, bind them in brass3,

  Having called them from the deep! O, still4

  Thy5 deaf’ning dreadful thunders, gently quench

  Calls

  Thy nimble sulphurous flashes6!— O, how, Lychorida!

  How does my queen? — Thou stormest venomously,

  Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman’s whistle8

  Is as a whisper in the ears of death,9

  Calls

  Unheard. Lychorida!— Lucina10, 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 travails14!— Now, Lychorida!

  Enter Lychorida With the baby

  LYCHORIDA    Here is a thing too young for such a place,

  Who if it had conceit16 would die,

  As I am like17 to do. Take in your arms

  This piece18 of your dead queen.

  PERICLES    How? How, Lychorida?

  LYCHORIDA    Patience, good sir, do not assist20 the storm.

  Here’s all that is left living of your queen:

  A little daughter. For the sake of it,

  Gives him the baby

  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 therein27 may

  Use honour with you28.

  LYCHORIDA    Patience, good sir, even for this charge29.

  To the baby

  PERICLES    Now, mild may be thy life30,

  For a more blusterous birth had never babe.

  Quiet and gentle thy conditions32, for

  Thou art the rudeliest33 welcome to this world

  That ever was prince’s child. Happy what follows34:

  Thou hast as chiding35 a nativity

  As fire, air, water, earth and heaven can make

  To herald thee from the womb.

  Even at the first, thy loss is more than can

  Thy portage quit with all thou can’st find here39.

  Now the good gods throw their best eyes40 upon’t!

  Enter two Sailors

  FIRST SAILOR    What courage, sir? God save you!

  PERICLES    Courage enough. I do not fear the flaw42,

  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 bowlines there! Thou46 wilt not, wilt thou,

  blow and split thyself.

  SECOND SAILOR    But sea-room an the brine and cloudy billow48

  kiss the moon, I care not.

  FIRST SAILOR    Sir, your queen must overboard. The sea works50

  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 still54

  observed, and we are strong in custom. Therefore briefly55

  yield ’er, for she must overboard straight5
6.

  PERICLES    As you think meet57. Most wretched queen!

  Reveals the body

  LYCHORIDA    Here she lies, sir.

  To 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 hallowed62 to thy grave, but straight

  Must cast thee, scarcely coffined, in the ooze,

  Where, for a monument64 upon thy bones

  And aye-remaining lamps, the belching65 whale

  And humming66 water must o’erwhelm thy corpse,

  Lying with simple shells. O Lychorida,

  Bid Nestor68 bring me spices, ink and paper,

  My casket and my jewels, and bid Nicander69

  Gives her the baby

  Bring me the satin coffer70. Lay the babe

  Upon the pillow. Hie thee71, whiles I say

  A priestly farewell to her. Suddenly72, woman!

  [Exit Lychorida]

  SECOND SAILOR    Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked73

  and bitumed74 ready.

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

  FIRST SAILOR    We are near Tarsus.

  PERICLES    Thither, gentle mariner,

  Alter thy course for Tyre78. When can’st thou reach it?

  FIRST 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 ways83, good mariner,

  I’ll bring the body presently84.

  Exeunt

  [Act 3 Scene 2]

  running scene 11

  Enter Lord Cerimon with a Servant

  And another survivor of the storm

  CERIMON    Philemon, ho!

  Enter Philemon

  PHILEMON    Doth my lord call?

  CERIMON    Get fire and meat for these poor men.

  [Exit Philemon]

  ’T has been a turbulent and stormy night.

  SERVANT    I have been in many, but such a night as this

  Till now, I ne’er endured.

  To Servant

  CERIMON    Your master will be dead ere you return,

  There’s nothing can be ministered to nature8

  To the other

  That can recover him.— Give this to the ’pothecary9,

  And tell me how it works.

  [Exeunt all but Cerimon]

  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 upon14 the sea

  Shook as15 the earth did quake:

  The very principals did seem to rend16

  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 husbandry20.

  CERIMON    O, you say well.21

  FIRST GENTLEMAN    But I much marvel that your lordship, having

  Rich tire23 about you, should at these early hours,

  Shake off the golden slumber of repose24.

  ’Tis most strange nature should be so conversant with pain25,

  Being thereto not compelled.

  CERIMON    I hold it ever27

  Virtue and cunning28 were endowments greater

  Than nobleness and riches. Careless29 heirs

  May the two latter darken30 and expend,

  But immortality attends the former,

  Making a man a god. ’Tis known, I ever

  Have studied physic33, through which secret art,

  By turning o’er authorities34, I have,

  Together with my practice35, made familiar

  To me and to my aid the blest infusions36

  That dwells in vegetives37, in metals, stones,

  And I can speak of the disturbances

  That nature works39 and of her cures, which doth give me

  A more content in course40 of true delight

  Than to be thirsty after tottering honour41,

  Or tie my pleasure up in silken bags42

  To please the fool and death43.

  SECOND GENTLEMAN    Your honour has

  Through Ephesus45 poured forth your charity,

  And hundreds call themselves your creatures46, who

  By you have been restored. And not47 your knowledge,

  Your personal pain48, but even your purse still open,

  Hath built Lord Cerimon such strong renown,

  As time shall never—

  Enter two or three with a chest

  CERIMON’S SERVANT    So, lift there.

  CERIMON    What’s that?

  CERIMON’S 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    What e’er it be,

  ’Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight:

  If the sea’s stomach be o’ercharged60 with gold,

  ’Tis a good constraint of fortune61 it belches upon us.

  SECOND GENTLEMAN    ’Tis so, my lord.

  CERIMON    How close ’tis caulked and bitumed63!

  Did the sea cast it up?

  CERIMON’S SERVANT    I never saw so huge a billow65, sir,

  As tossed it upon shore.

  CERIMON    Wrench it open.

  Soft!68 It smells most sweetly in my sense.

  SECOND GENTLEMAN    A delicate odour.

  CERIMON    As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it70.

  They open the chest

  O you most potent gods! What’s here, a corpse?

  SECOND GENTLEMAN    Most strange!

  CERIMON    Shrouded in cloth of state, balmed and entreasured73

  With full bags of spices, a passport74 too!

  Apollo, perfèct me in the characters75:

  Reads

  ‘Here I give to understand,

  If e’er this coffin drives a-land77,

  I, King Pericles, have lost

  This queen, worth all our mundane cost79.

  Who80 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 even cracks for woe. This chanced tonight?85

  SECOND GENTLEMAN    Most likely, sir.

  CERIMON    Nay, certainly tonight,

  For look how fresh she looks: they were too rough88

  That threw her in the sea. Make a fire within,

  Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet90.

  [Exit a Servant]

  Death may usurp on nature many hours,

  And yet the fire of life kindle again

  The o’er-pressed spirits93. I heard of an Egyptian

  That had nine hours lain dead, who was

  By good appliance95 recoverèd.

  Enter one with napkins and fire

  Well said, well said — the fire and cloths96. The rough and

  Woeful music that we have, cause it to sound, beseech you.

  Music

  The viol once more — how thou stirr’st, thou block98!

  Music again

  The music there! I pray you give her air.

&nbs
p; Gentlemen, this queen will live,

  Nature awakes a warm breath out of her101!

  She hath not been entranced above102 five hours:

  See how she ’gins to blow103 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 jewels107 which Pericles hath lost,

  Begin to part their fringes of bright gold108.

  The diamonds of a most praisèd water109

  Doth appear, to make the world twice rich. Live,

  And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,

  Rare112 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 rare116.

  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 mortal120. Come, come,

  And Aesculapius121 guide us.

  They carry her away. Exeunt

  [Act 3 Scene 3]

  running scene 12

  Enter Pericles [and Lychorida with Marina] at Tarsus, with Cleon and Dionyza

 

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