lamation; but he made a groan at it, and swore he would see her to-morrow.

Bawd. Well, well; as for him, he brought his disease hither: here he does but repair it. I know he will come in our shadow, to scatter his crowns in the

sun.

Boult. Well, if we had of every nation a traveller, we should lodge them with this sign. Bawd. Pray you, come hither a while. You have fortunes coming upon you. Mark me: you must seem to do that fearfully which you commit willingly; to despise profit where you have most gain. To weep that you live as you do makes pity in your lovers: seldom but that pity begets you a good opinion, and that opinion a mere profit.

Mar. I understand you not.

Boult. O, take her home, mistress, take her home: these blushes of hers must be quench'd with some present practice.

Bawd. Thou say'st true, i' faith, so they must; for your bride goes to that with shame which is her way to go with warrant.

Boult. Faith, some do, and some do not. But, mistress, if I have bargain'd for the joint,

Bawd. Thou may'st cut a morsel off the spit.
Boult. I may so?

Bawd.

Who should deny it? Come, young one, I like the manner of your garments well.

Boult. Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet.

Bawd. Boult, spend thou that in the town: report what a sojourner we have; you'll lose nothing by cusWhen Nature framed this piece, she meant thee a good turn; therefore, say what a paragon she is, and thou hast the harvest out of thine own report.

tom.

Boult. I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake the beds of eels, as my giving out her beauty stir up the lewdly inclin'd. I'll bring home some to-night.

Bawd. Come your ways; follow me.

Mar. If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep, Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.

Diana, aid my purpose!

Bawd. What have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with us?

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

[Scene IV. Malone.]

Tharsus. A Room in CLEON'S House.

Enter CLEON and DIONYZA.

Dion. Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone? Cle. O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter

The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon!

Dion.

You'll turn a child again.

I think

Cle. Were I chief lord of all this spacious world,

I'd give it to undo the deed. O lady!

Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess

To equal any single crown o' the earth,

I' th' justice of compare!

O villain Leonine !

Whom thou hast poison'd too.

If thou hadst drunk to him, it had been a kindness Becoming well thy fact: what canst thou say,

When noble Pericles shall demand his child?

Dion. That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates, To foster it, nor ever to preserve.

She died at night; I'll say so. Who can cross it?

Unless you play the pious innocent,
And for an honest attribute, cry out,
She died by foul play.'

Cle.

O, go to. Well, well; Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods

Do like this worst.

Dion.
Be one of those that think
The pretty wrens of Tharsus will fly hence,
And open this to Pericles. I do shame
To think of what a noble strain you are,
And of how coward a spirit.

Cle.

To such proceeding Who ever but his approbation added,

Though not his pre-consent, he did not flow

From honourable courses.

Dion.

Be it so, then;

Yet none does know, but you, how she came dead, Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.

She did distain my child, and stood between

Her and her fortunes: none would look on her,

But cast their gazes on Marina's face;

Whilst ours was blurted at, and held a malkin,

Not worth the time of day. It pierc'd me thorough;
And though you call my course unnatural,
You not your child well loving, yet I find
It greets me as an enterprise of kindness
Perform'd to your sole daughter.

Cle.

Dion. And as for Pericles,

Heavens forgive it!

What should he say? We wept after her hearse, And yet we mourn: her monument

Is almost finish'd, and her epitaphs

In glittering golden characters express

A general praise to her, and care in us
At whose expense 'tis done.

Cle.

Thou art like the harpy, Which, to betray, doth, with thine angel's face, Seize with thine eagle's talons.

Dion. You are like one that superstitiously Doth swear to the gods that winter kills the flies: But yet, I know, you'll do as I advise. [Exeunt

Enter GowER, before the monument of MARINA at Tharsus.

Gow. Thus time we waste, and longest leagues make short;

Sail seas in cockles, have, and wish but for 't;
Making to take your imagination-

From bourn to bourn, region to region.

By you being pardon'd, we commit no crime

To use one language, in each several clime,

Where our scenes seem to live. I do beseech you To learn of me, who stand i' the gaps to teach

Is now again thwarting the wayward seas,
Attended on by many a lord and knight,
To see his daughter, all his life's delight.
Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late

Advanc'd in time to great and high estate,
Is left to govern.

Bear you
Bear you it in mind,
Old Helicanus goes along behind.

Well-sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought
This King to Tharsus, (think this pilot thought;
So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on,)
To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.
Like motes and shadows see them move a while;
Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.

Dumb shew.

Enter PERICLES with his Train at one door; CLEON and DIONYZA at the other. CLEON shews PERICLES the tomb of MARINA; whereat PERICLES makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and, in a mighty passion, departs.

See how belief may suffer by foul shew!

This borrow'd passion stands for true old woe;
And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,

With sighs shot through, and biggest tears o'ershow'r'd,

Leaves Tharsus, and again embarks. He swears
Never to wash his face, nor cut his hairs;
He puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears
A tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,
And yet he rides it out. Now, please you, wit
The epitaph is for Marina writ

By wicked Dionyza.

"The fairest, sweet'st, and best, lies here,
Who wither'd in her spring of year :

She was of Tyrus, the king's daughter,
On whom foul death hath made this slaughter.
Marina was she call'd; and at her birth,

Thetis, being proud, swallow'd some part o' th' Earth:
Therefore the Earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,
Hath Thetis' birth-child on the Heavens bestow'd :
Wherefore she does (and swears she'll never stint)
Make raging battery upon shores of flint."

No visor does become black villainy
So well as soft and tender flattery.
Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,
And bear his courses to be ordered