1 KNIGHT Good morrow to the good Simonides.
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,
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Which from her by no means can I get.
2 KNIGHT May we not get access to her, my lord?
SIMONIDES Faith, by no means; she has so strictly tied
Her to her chamber that ’tis impossible.
One twelve moons more she’ll wear Diana’s livery;
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This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vow’d,
And on her virgin honour will not break it.
3 KNIGHT Loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves.
Exeunt Knights.
SIMONIDES So,
They are well dispatch’d; now to my daughter’s letter:
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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!
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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.
PERICLES All fortune to the good Simonides!
SIMONIDES To you as much: sir, I am beholding to you
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For your sweet music this last night. I do
Protest my ears were never better fed
With such delightful pleasing harmony.
PERICLES It is your grace’s pleasure to commend;
Not my desert.
SIMONIDES Sir, you are music’s master.
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PERICLES The worst of all her scholars, my good lord.
SIMONIDES Let me ask you one thing:
What do you think of my daughter, sir?
PERICLES A most virtuous princess.
SIMONIDES And she is fair too, is she not?
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PERICLES As a fair day in summer, wondrous fair.
SIMONIDES 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.
PERICLES I am unworthy for her schoolmaster.
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SIMONIDES She thinks not so; peruse this writing else.
PERICLES [aside] What’s here?
A letter that she loves the knight of Tyre!
’Tis the king’s subtlety to have my life. –
[Kneels.] O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord,
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A stranger and distressed gentleman,
That never aim’d so high to love your daughter,
But bent all offices to honour her.
SIMONIDES
Thou hast bewitch’d my daughter, and thou art
A villain.
PERICLES By the gods, I have not:
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Never did thought of mine levy offence;
Nor never did my actions yet commence
A deed might gain her love or your displeasure.
SIMONIDES Traitor, thou liest.
PERICLES Traitor?
SIMONIDES Ay, traitor.
PERICLES Even in his throat – unless it be the king –
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That calls me traitor, I return the lie.
SIMONIDES [aside]
Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage.
PERICLES 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,
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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.
SIMONIDES No?
Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.
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Enter THAISA.
PERICLES 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.
THAISA Why, sir, say if you had, who takes offence
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At that would make me glad?
SIMONIDES Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory?
[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,
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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
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Your will to mine; and you, sir, hear you:
Either be rul’d by me, or I’ll 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,
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And for further grief, – God give you joy!
What, are you both pleas’d?
THAISA Yes, if you love me, sir.
PERICLES Even as my life my blood that fosters it.
SIMONIDES What, are you both agreed?
BOTH Yes, if ’t please your majesty.
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SIMONIDES
It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you wed;
And then, with what haste you can, get you to bed.
Exeunt.
3.Ch. Enter GOWER.
GOWER
Now sleep y-slacked 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,
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Now couches ’fore the mouse’s hole;
And crickets at the oven’s mouth
Sing the blither for their drouth.
Hymen hath brought the bride to bed,
Where by the loss of maidenhead
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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 to 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. Then exeunt
Simonides and the rest.
By many a dern and painful perch
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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
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Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre,
Fame answering the most strange inquire,
To th’ court of King Simonides
Are letters brought, the tenour these:
Antiochus and his daughter dead,
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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’appease;
Says to ’em, if King Pericles
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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,
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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 –
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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
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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.
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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
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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. Exit.
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3.1 Enter PERICLES, on shipboard.
PERICLES
The 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 call’d them from the deep! O, still
Thy deaf ’ning, dreadful thunders; gently quench
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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
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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 an infant.
LYCHORIDA Here is a thing too young for such a place,
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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,
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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
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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
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That e’er 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
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Thy portage quit, with all thou canst find here.
Now the good gods throw their best eyes upon’t!
Enter two Sailors.
1 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
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Of this poor infant, this fresh-new seafarer,
I would it would be quiet.
1 SAILOR Slack the bolins there! Thou wilt not, wilt
thou? Blow, and split thyself.
2 SAILOR But sea-room, and the brine and cloudy billow
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kiss the moon, I care not.
1 SAILOR Sir, your queen must overboard; the sea works
high, the wind is loud, and will not lie till the ship be
clear’d of the dead.
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works Page 434