Second 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.-Act II. Sc. 1.

ACT IL

Enter GOWER.

Gow. Here have you seen a mighty king

His child, I wis, to incest bring:

A better prince and benign lord,

That will prove awful both in deed and word.

Be quiet then, as men should be,

Till he hath past necessity.

I'll shew you those in trouble's reign,
Losing a mite, a mountain gain.
The good, in conversation-
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,
Build his statue to make him glorious:

But tidings to the contrary

Are brought to 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; PERICLES gives the Messenger a reward, and knights him. Exeunt PERICLES and CLEON severally, with their trains.

Good Helicane, that stay'd at home,
Not to eat honey, like a drone,

From others' labours; for though 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 had intent to murder him;
And that in Tharsus 'twas 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 toss'd :
All perishen of man, of pelf,

Ne aught escapen but himself;

Till fortune, tir'd 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 wat'ry grave,
Here to have death in peace, is all he'll crave.

Enter three Fishermen.

First Fish. What, ho, Pilch!

Second Fish. Ha, come, and bring away the nets.
First Fish. What, Patch-breech, I say!

Third Fish. What say you, master?

First Fish. Look how thou stirrest now: come away, or I'll fetch thee with a wanion.

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

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

Third 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 wash'd. Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea.

First 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 o' the land, who never leave gaping, till they've swallow'd the whole parish, church, steeple, bells and all. Per. [Aside.] A pretty moral.

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

Second Fish. Why, man?

Third Fish. Because he should have swallow'd me too: and when I had been in his belly, I would have kept such a jangling of the bells, that he should never have left, till he cast bells, steeple, church, and parish, up again. But if the good king

Simonides were of my mind

Per. [Aside.] Simonides?

Third Fish. We would purge the land of these drones, that rob

the bee of her honey.

Per. 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!
Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.

Second Fish. Honest, good fellow, what's that? If it be a day
fits you, search out of the calendar, and nobody look after it.
Per. You may see, the sea hath cast me on your coast.
Second 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 us'd to beg.

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

Second Fish. Canst thou catch any fishes then?

Per. I never practis'd it.

Second 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 throng'd 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 that I am a man, pray see me buried.

First 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 fasting-days, and moreo'er puddings and flap-jacks; and thou shalt be welcome.

1

Per. I thank you, sir.

Second Fish. Hark you, my friend, you said you could not beg. Per. I did but crave.

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

Per. Why, are all your beggars whipp'd then?

Second Fish. O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your beggars were whipp'd, I would wish no better office than to be a beadle. But, master, I'll go draw up the net.

[Exeunt two of the Fishermen. Per. How well this honest mirth becomes their labour ! First Fish. Hark you, sir, do you know where you are? Per. Not well.

First 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?

First Fish. Ay, sir, and he deserves so to be called, for his peaceable reign and good government.

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

First 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. Were my fortunes equal to my desires, I could wish to make one there.

First Fish. O, sir, things must be as they may; and what a man cannot get, he may lawfully deal for.2