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Cym. Well,

My peace we will begin:-and, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Cæsar,
And to the Roman empire; promising

To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were dissuaded by our wicked queen;

Whom heavens, in justice, (both on her and hers,)
Have laid most heavy hand.

Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune The harmony of this peace. The vision Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant Is full accomplish'd: for the Roman eagle, From south to west on wing soaring aloft, Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o' the sun

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To sing a song of old was sung,
From ashes ancient Gower is come;
Assuming man's infirmities,

To glad your ear, and please your eyes.
It hath been sung at festivals,

On ember-eves, and holy-ales;

And lords and ladies of their lives

Have read it for restoratives:
'Purpose to make men glorious;
Et quo antiquius, eo melius.

If you, born in these latter times,

When wit's more ripe, accept my rhymes,
And that to hear an old man sing,
May to your wishes pleasure bring,
I life would wish, and that I might
Waste it for you, like taper-light.-
This city, then, Antioch the Great
Built up for his chiefest seat:
The fairest in all Syria

(I tell you what mine authors say):-
This king unto him took a pheere,
Who died and left a female heir,
So buxom, blithe, and full of face,
As heaven had lent her all his grace;
With whom the father liking took,
And her to incest did provoke:
Bad father! to entice his own
To evil, should be done by none:
By custom, what they did begin
Was, with long use, account no sin.
The beauty of this sinful dame
Made many princes thither frame,
To seek her as a bed-fellow,
In marriage pleasures play-fellow:
Which to prevent, he made a law,
(To keep her still, and men in awe,)
That whoso ask'd her for his wife,
His riddle told not, lost his life:
So for her many a wight did die,

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SCENE I.-ANTIOCH. A Room in the Palace.

Enter ANTIOCHUS, PERICLES, and Attendants. Ant. Young prince of Tyre, you have at large received The danger of the task you undertake.

Per. I have, Antiochus; and, with a soul Embolden'd with the glory of her praise, Think death no hazard in this enterprise.

[Music

Ant. Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride,
For the embracements even of Jove himself;

At whose conception, (till Lucina reign'd,)
Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence,
The senate-house of planets all did sit,
To knit in her their best perfections.

Enter the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS.

Per. See, where she comes, apparell'd like the spring Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king

Of every virtue gives renown to men!

Her face the book of praises, where is read
Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence
Sorrow were ever rased, and testy wrath
Could never be her mild companion.

Ye gods, that made me man, and sway in love,
That have inflamed desire in my breast,
To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree,
Or die in the adventure, be my helps,
As I am son and servant to your will,
To compass such a boundless happiness!
Ant. Prince Pericles,-

Per. That would be son to great Antiochus.
Ant. Before thee stands this fair Hesperides,
With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch'd;
For death-like dragons here affright thee hard:
Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view
A countless glory, which desert must gain:
And which, without desert, because thine eye
Presuries to reach, all thy whole heap must die
Yon so.netime famous princes, like thyself,
Drawn by report, advent'rous by desire,

Tell thee with speechless tongues, and semblance pale
That, without covering, save yon field of stars.
They here stand martyrs, slain in Cupid's wars;
And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist,

For going on death's net, whom none resist.

Per. Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught My frail mortality to know itself,

And by those fearful objects to prepare
This body, like to them, to what I must:
For death remember'd should be like a mirror,
Who tells us life's but breath; to trust it, error.
I'll make my will, then; and, as sick men do,
Who know the world, see heaven, but feeling woe,
Gripe not at earthly joys, as erst they did:
So I bequeath a happy peace to you,
And all good men, as every prince should do;
My riches to the earth from whence they came;
But my unspotted fire of love to you.

[To the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS.
Thus ready for the way of life or death,
I wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus,
Scorning advice.

Ant. Read the conclusion, then; Which read and not expounded, 'tis decreed, As these before thee, thou thyself shalt bleed. Daugh. In all, save that, mayst thou prove pros

In all, save that, I wish thee happiness!

[perous!

Per. Like a bold champion, I assume the lists, Nor ask advice of any other thought But faithfulness and courage.

"I am no viper, yet I feed

[Reads the riddle.

On mother's flesh, which did me breed:
I sought a husband, in which labour,
I found that kindness in a father.
He's father, son, and husband mild,
I mother, wife, and yet his child.
How they may be, and yet in two,
As you will live, resolve it you."

Sharp physic is the last: but, O you powers!
That give heaven countless eyes to view men's acts,
Why cloud they not their sights perpetually,
If this be true, which makes me pale to read it?-
Fair glass of light, I loved you, and could still,

[Takes hold of the hand of the Princess.
Were not this glorious casket stored with ill:
But I must tell you,-now my thoughts revolt;
For he's no man on whom perfections wait,
That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate.
You're a fair viol, and your sense the strings;
Who, finger'd to make man his lawful music,

Would draw heaven down, and all the gods, to hearken;
But being play'd upon before your time,
Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime.

Good sooth, I care not for you.

Ant. Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,
For that's an article within our law,
As dangerous as the rest.

Your time's expired;
Either expound now, or receive your sentence.

Per. Great king,

Few love to hear the sins they love to act;
"Twould 'braid yourself too near for me to tell it.
Who has a book of all that monarchs do,
He's more secure to keep it shut, than shewn;
For vice repeated, is like the wand'ring wind,
Blows dust in others' eyes, to spread itself;
And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,
The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear:
To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts
Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is wrong'd
By man's oppression; and the poor worm doth die for't.
Kings are earth's gods: in vice their law's their will;
And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill?
It is enough you know; and it is fit,
What being more known grows worse, to smother it.
All love the womb that their first beings bred,
Then give my tongue like leave to love my head.

Ant. [Aside.] Heaven, that I had thy head! he has found the meaning:

[Tyre,

But I will gloze with him.-[Aloud.] Young prince of
Though by the tenor of our strict edict,
Your exposition misinterpreting,
We might proceed to cancel of your days;
Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree
As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise :
Forty days longer we do respite you;
If by which time our secret be undone,
This mercy shews we'll joy in such a son:
And until then your entertain shall be,
As doth befit our honour and your worth.

[Exeunt ANTIOCHUS, his Daughter, and
Attendants.

Per. How courtesy would seem to cover sin,
When what is done is like a hypocrite,
The which is good in nothing but in sight!
If it be true that I interpret false,

Then were it certain you were not so bad,
As with foul incest to abuse your soul;

Where now you're both a father and a son,
By your untimely claspings with your child,
(Which pleasure fits a husband, not a father;)
And she an eater of her mother's flesh,
By the defiling of her parent's bed;

And both like serpents are, who though they feed
On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed.
Antioch, farewell! for wisdom sees, those men
Blush not in actions blacker than the night,
Will shun no course to keep them from the light.
One sin, I know, another doth provoke;
Murder's as near to lust, as flame to smoke.
Poison and treason are the hands of sin,
Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame:
Then, lest my life be cropp'd to keep you clear,
By flight I'll shun the danger which I fear.
Re-enter ANTIOCHUS.

[Exit.

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SCENE II.-TYRE. A Room in the Palace.
Enter PERICLES, HELICANUS, and other Lords.
Per. Let none disturb us.-Why this charge of
The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy, [thoughts!
By me so used a guest is, not an hour,

In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night,
(The tomb where grief should sleep,) can breed me quiet!
Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun
And danger, which I fear'd, is at Antioch, [them;
Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here:
Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits,
Nor yet the other's distance comfort me.
Then it is thus: the passions of the mind,
That have their first conception by mis-dread,
Have after-nourishment and life by care;
And what was first but fear what might be done,
Grows elder now, and cares it be not done.
And so with me:-the great Antiochus
(Gainst whom I am too little to contend,
Since he's so great, can make his will his act)
Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence;

Nor boots it me to say I honour him,

If he suspect I may dishonour him:

And what may make him blush in being known,

He'll stop the course by which it might be known.

With hostile forces he'll o'erspread the land,
And with the ostent of war will look so huge,
Amazement shall drive courage from the state;
Our men be vanquish'd ere they do resist,
And subjects punish'd that ne'er thought offence:
Which care of them, not pity of myself,

(Who am no more but as the tops of trees,

Which fence the roots they grow by, and defend them,) Makes both my body pine, and soul to languish,

And punish that before, that he would punish.

1 Lord. Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast!

2 Lord. And keep your mind till you return to us, Peaceful and comfortable!

[tongue.

Hel. Peace, peace, my lords, and give experience
They do abuse the king, that flatter him:
For flattery is the bellows blows up sin;
The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark,

To which that breath gives heat and stronger glowing;
Whereas reproof, obedient, and in order,
Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err.
When signior Sooth here does proclaim a peace,
He flatters you, makes war upon your life.
Prince, pardon me, or strike me, if you please;
[Kneeling.] I cannot be much lower than my knees.
Per. All leave us else; but let your cares o'erlook
What shipping and what lading's in our haven,
And then return to us. [Exeunt Lords.] Helicanus,
Hast moved us: what seest thou in our looks? [thou
Hel. An angry brow, dread lord.

Per. If there be such a dart in princes' frowns,
How durst thy tongue move anger to our face?

Hel. How dare the plants look up to heaven, from They have their nourishment?

Per. Thou know'st I have power

To take thy life.

Hel. I have ground the axe myself;

Do you but strike the blow.

Per. Rise, pr'ythee, rise;

Sit down, sit down; thou art no flatterer:

I thank thee for it; and high heaven forbid

[whence

That kings should let their ears hear their faults hid!
Fit counsellor and servant for a prince,

Who by thy wisdom mak'st a prince thy servant,
What wouldst thou have me do?

Hel. With patience bear

Buch griefs as you do lay upon yourself.

Per. Thou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus,
Who minister'st a potion unto me,

That thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself.
Attend me then I went to Antioch,

Where, as thou know'st, against the face of death,
I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty,
From whence an issue I might propagate,
Bring arms to princes, and to subjects joys.
Her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder;
The rest (hark in thine ear) as black as incest;
Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father
Seem'd not to strike, but smooth: but thou know'st this,
'Tis time to fear, when tyrants seem to kiss.
Which fear so grew in me, I hither fled,
Under the covering of a careful night,

Who seem'd my good protector: and being here,
Bethought me what was past, what might succeed.
I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than their years.
And should he doubt it, (as no doubt he doth,)
That I should open to the listening air,
How many worthy princes' bloods were shed,
To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,-
To lop that doubt he'll fill this land with arms,
And make pretence of wrong that I have done him;
When all, for mine, if I may call 't, offence,
Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence:
Which love to all (of which thyself art one,
Who now reprov'st me for it)-

Hel. Alas, Sir!

[cheeks,

Per. Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my Musings into my mind, a thousand doubts How I might stop this tempest, ere it came; And finding little comfort to relieve them, I thought it princely charity to grieve them. Hel. Well, my lord, since you have given me leave Freely I'll speak. Antiochus you fear, [to speak, And justly too, I think, yon fear the tyrant, Who either by public war, or private treason, Will take away your life.

Therefore, my lord, go travel for a while,

Till that his rage and anger be forgot,

Or Destinies do cut his thread of life.

Your rule direct to any; if to me,

Day serves not light more faithful than I'll be.
Per. I do not doubt thy faith;

But should he wrong my liberties in absence?-
Hel. We'll mingle bloods together in the earth,
From whence we had our being and our birth.

Per. Tyre, I now look from thee then, and to Tharsus
Intend my travel, where I'll hear from thee;
And by whose letters I'll dispose myself.
The care I had and have of subjects' good,

On thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it.
I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath;
Who shuns not to break one, will sure crack both:

But in our orbs we'll live so sound and safe,
That time of both this truth shall ne'er convince,
Thou shew'dst a subject's shine, I a true prince.

[Exeunt

SUENE III.-TYRE. An Ante-chamber in the Palace

Enter THALIARD.

Thal. So, this is Tyre, and this is the court. Here must I kill king Pericles; and if I do not, I am sure to be hanged at home: 'tis dangerous.-Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, that, being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired he might know none of his secrets: now do I see he had some reason for it; for if a king bid a man be a villain, he is bound by the indenture of his oath to be one.Hush! here come the lords of Tyre.

Enter HELICANUS, ESCANES, and other Lords.
Hel. You shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre,
Further to question of your king's departure:
His seal'd commission, left in trust with me,
Doth speak sufficiently, he's gone to travel.
Thal. [Aside.] How! the king gone!
Hel. If further yet you will be satisfied,
Why, as it were unlicensed of your loves,
He would depart, I'll give some light unto you.
Being at Antioch-

Thal. [Aside.] What from Antioch?

Hel. Royal Antiochus (on what cause I know not) Took some displeasure at him; at least he judged so: And doubting lest that he had err'd or sinn'd,

To shew his sorrow, would correct himself;
So puts himself unto the shipman's toil,

With whom each minute threatens life or death.
Thal. [Aside.] Well, I perceive

I shall not be hang'd now, although I would;
But since he's gone, the king it sure must please,
He scaped the land, to perish on the seas.-
But I'll present me.-[Aloud.] Peace to the lords of
Hel. Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome. [Tyrel
Thal. From him I come

With message unto princely Pericles;

But since my landing, as I have understood,
Your lord has took himself to unknown travels,
My message must return from whence it came.
Hel. We have no reason to desire it, since
Commended to our master, not to us:
Yet, ere you shall depart, this we desire,-
As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre. [Exeunt

SCENE IV.-THARSUS. A Room in the Governor's
House.

Enter CLEON, DIONYZA, and Attendants.
Cle. My Dionyza, shall we rest us here,
And by relating tales of other's griefs,
See if 'twill teach us to forget our own?

Dio. That were to blow at fire in hope to quench it;
For who digs hills because they do aspire,
Throws down one mountain to cast up a higher.
O my distressed lord, even such our griefs;
Here they're but felt, and seen with mistful eyes,
But like to groves, being topp'd, they higher rise.
Cle. O Dionyza,

Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it,
Or can conceal his hunger, till he famish?
Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep our woes
Into the air; our eyes do weep, till lungs
Fetch breath that may proclaim them louder; that,
If heaven slumber, while their creatures want,
They may awake their helps to comfort them.
I'll then discourse our woes, felt several years,
And, wanting breath to speak, help me with tears.
Dio. I'll do my best, Sir.

Cle. This Tharsus o'er which I have government,
(A city on whom plenty held full hand,)
For riches strew'd herself even in the streets;
Whose towers bore heads so high they kiss'd the clouds,
And strangers ne'er beheld, but wonder'd at;
Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn'd,
Like one another's glass to trim them by :
Their tables were stored full, to glad the sight,
And not so much to feed on as delight;
All poverty was scorn'd, and pride so great,
The name of help grew odious to repeat.
Dio. O, 'tis too true.

Cle. But see what heaven can do! By this our Lange These mouths, whom but of late, earth, sea, and air, Were all too little to content and please,

Although they gave their creatures in abundancu

As nouses are defiled for want of use,
They are now starved for want of exercise:
Those palates, who, not yet two summers younger,
Must have inventions to delight the taste,
Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it:
Those mothers, who, to nousle up their babes,
Thought naught too curious, are ready now
To eat those little darlings whom they loved.
So sharp are hunger's teeth, that man and wife
Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life.
Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping;
Here many sink, yet those which see them fall
Have scarce strength left to give them burial.
Is not this true?

Dio. Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it. Cle. O, let those cities, that of plenty's cup And her prosperities so largely taste,

With their superfluous riots, hear these tears!
The misery of Tharsus may be theirs.

Enter a Lord.

Lord. Where's the lord governor?
Cle. Here.

Speak out thy sorrows which thou bring'st, in haste,
For comfort is too far for us to expect.

Lord. We have descried, upon our neighbouring shore,

A portly sail of ships make hitherward.

Cle. thought as much.

One sorrow never comes, but brings an heir
That may succeed as his inheritor;

And so in ours: some neighbouring nation,
Taking advantage of our misery,

Hath stuff'd these hollow vessels with their power,
To beat us down, the which are down already;
And make a conquest of unhappy me,
Whereas no glory's got to overcome.

Lord. That's the least fear; for, by the semblance Of their white flags display'd, they bring us peace, And come to us as favourers, not as foes.

Cle. Thou speak'st like him's untutor'd to repeat:
Who makes the fairest show means most deceit.
But bring they what they will, what need we fear?
The ground's the lowest, and we are half way there.
Go tell their general we attend him here,

To know for what he comes, and whence he comes,
And what he craves.

Lord. I go, my lord.

Cle. Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist; If wars, we are unable to resist.

Enter PERICLES, with Attendants. Per. Lord governor, for so we hear you are, Let not our ships and number of our men Be, like a beacon fired, to amaze your eyes. We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre, And seen the desolation of your streets: Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears, But to relieve them of their heavy load; And these our ships you happily may think Are, like the Trojan horse, war-stuff'd within

With bloody views, expecting overthrow,

Are stored with corn to make your needy bread,

[Exit.

And give them life who are hunger-starved, half dead. All. [Kneeling.] The gods of Greece protect you!

And we'll pray for you.

Per. Rise, I pray you, rise;

We do not look for reverence, but for love,
And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men.
Cle. The which when any shall not gratify,
Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought,
Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves,
The curse of heaven and men succeed their evils!
Till when (the which, I hope, shall ne'er be seen)
Your grace is welcome to our town and us.

Per. Which welcome we'll accept; feast here a wh Until our stars that frown lend us a smile.

ACT II.

Enter GOWER.

[Exeunt.

Gow. Here have you seen a mighty king
His child, I wis, to incest bring;
A better prince, and benign lord,
Prove awful both in deed and word.
Be quiet then, as men should be,
Till he hath pass'd necessity.

I'll shew you those in troubles reign,
Losing a mite, a mountain gain.
The good in conversation

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(To whom I give my benison,)
Is still at Tharsus, where each man
Thinks all is writ he spoken can:
And, to remember what he does,
Gild his statue glorious:

But tidings to the contrary

Are brought your eyes; what need speak I?

DUMB SHOW.

Enter, at one door, PERICLES, talking with CLEON; all the train with them. Enter, at another door, a Gentleman with a letter to PERICLES; PERICLES shews the letter to CLEON; then gives the Messenger a reward, and knights him. Exeunt PERICLES, CLEON, dc., severally.

Gow. Good Helicane hath stay'd at home,
Not to eat honey like a drone,

From others' labours; forth he strive
To killen bad, keep good alive;

And, to fulfil his prince' desire,

Sends word of all that haps in Tyre:

How Thaliard came full bent with sin

And hid intent to murder him;

And that in Tharsus was not best
Longer for him to make his rest.
He knowing so, put forth to seas,
Where when men been, there's seldom ease;
For now the wind begins to blow;
Thunder above, and deeps below,
Make such unquiet, that the ship

Should house him safe, is wreck'd and split;
And he, good prince, having all lost,
By waves from coast to coast is tost:
All perishen of man, of pelf,

Ne aught escapen but himself;
Till fortune, tired with doing bad,
Threw him ashore, to give him glad :
And here he comes. What shall be next,
Pardon old Gower,-this 'longs the text.

Exit

SCENE I. PENTAPOLIS. An open Place by the Sea-side

Enter PERICLES, wet.

Per. Yet cease your ire, ye angry stars of heaven! Wind, rain, and thunder, remember, earthly man Is but a substance that must yield to you; And I, as fits my nature, do obey you:

Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks,

Wash'd me from shore to shore, and left me breath
Nothing to think on, but ensuing death:
Let it suffice the greatness of your powers,
To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes;
And having thrown him from your watery grave,
Here to have death in peace is all he'll crave.
Enter three Fishermen.

1 Fish. What, ho, Pilche!

2 Fish. Ho! come, and bring away the nets.

1 Fish. What Patch-breech, I say!

3 Fish. What say you, master?

1 Fish. Look how thou stirrest now! come away, o I'll fetch thee with a wannion.

3 Fish. 'Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that were cast away before us even now.

1 Fish. Alas, poor souls, it grieved my heart to hear what pitiful cries they made to us to help them, when, well-a-day, we could scarce help ourselves.

3 Fish. Nay, master, said not I as much, when I saw the porpus, how he bounced and tumbled? they say they are half fish, half flesh: a plague on them! they ne'er come, but I look to be washed. Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea.

1 Fish. Why, as men do a-land, -the great ones eat up the little ones: I can compare our rich misers to nothing so fitly as to a whale'; 'a plays and tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at last devours them all at a mouthful. Such whales have I heard on a' the land, who never leave gaping till they've swallowed the whole parish, church, steeple, bells, and all.

Per. [Aside.] A pretty moral.

3 Fish. But, master, if I had been the sexton, I would have been that day in the belfry.

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For it was sometime target to a king;

Per. [Aside.] How from the finny subject of the sea These fishers tell the infirmities of men; And from their watery empire recollect

All that may men approve, or men detect![Aloud] Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.

2 Fish. Honest! good fellow, what's that? if it be a day fits you, scratch it out of the calendar, and nobody will look after it.

Per. Nay, see, the sea hath cast upon your coast2 Fish. What a drunken knave was the sea, to cast thee in our way!

Per. A man whom both the waters and the wind,
In that vast tennis-court, hath made the ball
For them to play upon, entreats you pity him;
He asks of you, that never used to beg.

1 Fish. No, friend, cannot you beg? here's them in our country of Greece, gets more with begging than we can do with working.

2 Fish. Canst thou catch any fishes then? Per. I never practised it.

2 Fish. Nay, then thou wilt starve sure; for here's nothing to be got now-a-days, unless thou canst fish

for 't.

Per. What I have been, I have forgot to know;
But what I am, want teaches me to think on;
A man shrunk up with cold: my veins are chill,
And have no more of life than may suffice
To give my tongue that heat to ask your help,
Which if you shall refuse, when I am dead,
For I am a man, pray see me buried.

1 Fish. Die quoth-a? Now gods forbid! I have a gown here; come, put it on; keep thee warm. Now, afore me, a handsome fellow! Come, thou shalt go home, and we'll have flesh for holidays, fish for fastingdays, and moreo'er puddings and flap-jacks; and thou shalt be welcome.

Per. I thank you, Sir.

2 Fish. Hark you, my friend, you said you could not beg.

Per. I did but crave.

2 Fish. But crave? Then I'll turn craver too, and so I shall scape whipping.

Per. Why, are all your beggars whipped then? 2 Fish. O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your beggars were whipped, I would wish no better office than to be beadle.But, master, I'll go draw up the net.

[Exeunt two of the Fishermen.

Per. [Aside.] How well this honest mirth becomes their labour!

1 Fish. Hark you, Sir; do you know where you are? Per. Not well.

1 Fish. Why, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and our king, the good Simonides.

Per. The good king Simonides, do you call him? 1 Fish. Ay, Sir; and he deserves to be so called, for his peaceable reign and good government.

Per. He is a happy king, since from his subjects He gains the name of good by his government. How far is his court distans from this shore?

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1 Fish. Marry, Sir, half a day's journey: and I'll tell you, he hath a fair daughter, and to-morrow is her birthday; and there are princes and knights come from all parts of the world, to just and tourney for her love. Per. Did but my fortunes equal my desires, I'd wish to make one there.

1 Fish. O, Sir, things must be as they may; and what a man cannot get, he may lawfully deal for,-his wife's soul.

Re-enter the two Fishermen, drawing up a net.

2 Fish. Help, master, help! here's a fish hangs in the net, like a poor man's right in the law; 'twill hardly come out. Ha! bots on 't, 'tis come at last, and 'tis turned to a rusty armour.

Per. An armour, friends! I pray you, let me see it. Thanks, fortune, yet, that after all my crosses, Thou giv'st me somewhat to repair myself; And, though it was mine own, part of mine heritage, Which my dead father did bequeath to me, With this strict charge, (even as he left his life,) "Keep it, my Pericles; it hath been a shield "Twixt me and death ;"-and pointed to this brace;"For that it saved me, keep it; in like necessity, Which gods protect thee from! it may defend thee." It kept where I kept, I so dearly loved it; Till the rough seas, that spare not any man, Took it in rage, though calm'd, they give't again: I thank thee for 't: my shipwreck 's now no ill, Since I have here my father's gift by will

1 Fish. What mean you, Sir?

Per To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of worth,

I know it by this mark. He loved me dearly,
And, for his sake, I wish the having of it;
And that you'd guide me to your sovereign's court,
Where with 't I may appear a gentleman;

And if that ever my low fortunes better,

I'll pay your bounties; till then, rest your debtor. 1 Fish. Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady? Per. I'll shew the virtue I have borne in arms. 1 Fish. Why, do ye take it, and the gods give thee good on 't!

2 Fish. Ay, but hark you, my friend; 'twas we that made up this garment through the rough seams of the waters: there are certain condolements, certain veils. I hope, Sir, if you thrive, you'll remember from whence you had it.

Per. Believe't, I will.

Now, by your furtherance, I am clothed in steel;
And spite of all the rupture of the sea,
This jewel holds his biding on my arm:
Unto thy value will I mount myself
Upon a courser, whose delightful steps
Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread.—
Only, my friend, I yet am unprovided
Of a pair of bases.

2 Fish. We'll sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to make thee a pair; and I'll bring thee to the court myself.

Per. Then honour be but a goal to my will; This day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill

[Exeunt

SCENE II.-The same. A Public Way or Platform
leading to the Lists. A Pavilion by the side of it,
for the reception of the King, Princess, Lords, de
Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, and Attendants.
Sim. Are the knights ready to begin the triumph?
1 Lord. They are, my liege;

And stay your coming to present themselves.
Sim. Return them, we are ready; and our daughter,
In honour of whose birth these triumphs are,
Sits here, like beauty's child, whom nature gat
For men to see, and seeing, wonder at.

[Ezit a Lord.

Thai. It pleaseth you, my father, to express My commendations great, whose merit's less. Sim. 'Tis fit it should be so; for princes are A model, which heaven makes like to itself: As jewels lose their glory if neglected, So princes their renown, if not respected. 'Tis now your honour, daughter, to explain The labour of each knight in his device. Thai. Which, to preserve mine honour, I'll perform Enter a Knight; he passes over the stage, and his Squire presents his shield to the Princess. Sim. Who is the first that doth prefer himself? Thai. A knight of Sparta, my renowned father; And the devise he bears upon his shield Is a black Æthiop, reaching at the sun; The word, Lux tua vita mihi. Sim. He loves you well that holds his life of you. [The second Knight passe Who is the second that presents himself? Thai. A prince of Macedon, my royal father; And the device he bears upon his shield

Is an arm'd knight, that's conquer'd by a lady;

The motto thus, in Spanish, Piu per dulçura que per [The third Knight passes.

fuerça.

Sim. And what's the third? Thai. The third of Antioch; And his device a wreath of chivalry; The word, Me pompa provexit aper.

Sim. What is the fourth?

[The fourth Knight passss

Thai. A burning torch, that's turn'd upside down; The word, Quod me alit, me extinguit.

Sim. Which shews that beauty hath his power and Which can as well inflame as it can kill. [will,

[The fifth Knight passes. Thai. The fifth, a hand environed with clouds, Holding out gold that's by the touchstone tried; The motto thus, Sic spectanda fides.

[The sixth Knight passes. Sim. And what's the sixth and last, which the knight With such a graceful courtesy deliver'd? [himsel

Thai. He seems a stranger; but his present is A wither'd branch, that's only green at top; The motto, In hac spe vivo.

Sim. A pretty moral;

From the dejected state wherein he is

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