Pericles

In Helicanus may you well descry A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty. In reverend Cerimon there well appears The worth that learned charity aye wears.

Now do I long to hear how you were found, How possibly preserved, and who to thank (Besides the gods) for this great miracle.

O, let me look! If he be none of mine, my sanctity Will to my sense bend no licentious ear, But curb it, spite of seeing.

Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign. Lord Cerimon, we do our longing stay To hear the rest untold. Sir, lead ’s the way.

So he thrived That he is promis’d to be wived To fair Marina, but in no wise Till he had done his sacrifice, As Dian bade;

whereto being bound, The interim, pray you, all confound. In feather’d briefness sails are fill’d, And wishes fall out as they’re will’d.

Your present kindness Makes my past miseries sports. You shall do well That on the touching of her lips I may Melt, and no more be seen. O, come, be buried A second time within these arms.

Give me a gash, put me to present pain, Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me O’erbear the shores of my mortality, And drown me with their sweetness.

If that thy prosperous and artificial feat Can draw him but to answer thee in aught, Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay As thy desires can wish.

This is the rarest dream that e’er dull’d sleep Did mock sad fools withal. This cannot be My daughter—buried!—Well, where were you bred? I’ll hear you more, to th’ bottom of your story, And never interrupt you.

BAWD. Here comes that which grows to the stalk, never pluck’d yet, I can assure you. Enter Boult with Marina. Is she not a fair creature? LYS. Faith, she would serve after a long voyage at sea.

CLE. Thou art like the harpy, Which to betray, dost with thine angel’s face Seize with thine eagle’s talents. DION. Y’ are like one that superstitiously Do swear to th’ gods that winter kills the flies, But yet I know you’ll do as I advise.

Diseases have been sold dearer than physic— That the gods Would set me free from this unhallowed place, Though they did change me to the meanest bird That flies i’ th’ purer air!

Do any thing but this thou doest. Empty Old receptacles, or common shores, of filth, Serve by indenture to the common hangman: Any of these ways are yet better than this; For what thou professest, a baboon, could he speak, Would own a name too dear.

In your supposing once more put your sight: Of heavy Pericles think this his bark; Where what is done in action, more, if might, Shall be discover’d, please you sit and hark.

Sail seas in cockles, have and wish but for’t, Making, to take our imagination, From bourn to bourn, region to region. By you being pardoned, we commit no crime To use one language in each several clime Where our scenes seems to live.

Sir, This is the man that can, in aught you would, Resolve you. LYS. Hail, reverent sir! The gods preserve you! HEL. And you, to outlive the age I am, And die as I would do.

Sure all effectless; yet nothing we’ll omit That bears recovery’s name. But since your kindness We have stretch’d thus far, let us beseech you That for our gold we may provision have, Wherein we are not destitute for want, But weary for the staleness.

Thou hold’st a place for which the pained’st fiend Of hell would not in reputation change. Thou art the damned door-keeper to every Custrel that comes inquiring for his Tib.

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 a’ th’ earth I’ th’ justice of compare!

What he will do graciously, I will thankfully receive. LYS. Ha’ you done? BAWD. My lord, she’s not pac’d yet, you must take some pains to work her to your manage.

Boult, take you the marks of her, the color of her hair, complexion, height, her age, with warrant of her virginity, and cry, “He that will give most shall have her first.” Such a maidenhead were no cheap thing, if men were as they have been.

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

Let not conscience, Which is but cold in flaming, thy lone bosom Inflame too nicely, nor let pity, which Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be A soldier to thy purpose.

Never was waves nor wind more violent, And from the ladder-tackle washes off A canvas-climber. “Ha!” says one, “wolt out?” And with a dropping industry they skip From stem to stern.

When nature fram’d 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. BOULT. I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake the beds of eels as my giving out her beauty stirs up the lewdly inclin’d.

But I much marvel that your lordship, having Rich tire about you, should at these early hours Shake off the golden slumber of repose.

Death may usurp on nature many hours, And yet the fire of life kindle again The o’erpress’d spirits. I heard of an Egyptian That had nine hours lien dead, Who was by good appliance recovered.

I have been in many; but such a night as this Till now I ne’er endured.

The unborn event I do commend to your content; Only I carried winged time Post on the lame feet of my rhyme, Which never could I so convey, Unless your thoughts went on my way.

And what ensues in this fell storm Shall for itself itself perform. I nill relate, action may Conveniently the rest convey, Which might not what by me is told.

Now sleep yslacked hath the rout, No din but snores the house about, Made louder by the o’erfed breast Of this most pompous marriage-feast.

the grisled north Disgorges such a tempest forth, That, as a duck for life that dives, So up and down the poor ship drives.

But if the Prince do live, let us salute him, Or know what ground’s made happy by his breath. If in the world he live, we’ll seek him out; If in his grave he rest, we’ll find him there;

By the gods, I have not. Never did thought of mine levy offense; Nor never did my actions yet commence A deed might gain her love or your displeasure.

For which, the most high gods not minding longer To withhold the vengeance that they had in store, Due to this heinous capital offense, Even in the height and pride of all his glory,

Take I your wish, I leap into the seas, Where’s hourly trouble for a minute’s ease. A twelvemonth longer let me entreat you To forbear the absence of your king;

Then you love us, we you, and we’ll clasp hands: When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands.

To you as much! Sir, I am beholding to you For your sweet music this last night. I do Protest my ears were never better fed With such delightful pleasing harmony.

But you, my knight and guest, To whom this wreath of victory I give, And crown you king of this day’s happiness.

From the dejected state wherein he is, He hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish.

It’s 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 renowns if not respected.

Princes, it is too late to talk of love, And that’s the mark I know you level at. Therefore each one betake him to his rest; Tomorrow all for speeding do their best.

SIM. What, are you merry, knights? ALL KNIGHTS. Who can be other in this royal presence?

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

Your presence glads our days. Honor we love, For who hates honor hates the gods above.

A better prince and benign lord, That will prove aweful both in deed and word. Be quiet then, as men should be, Till he hath pass’d necessity.

And that you’d guide me to your sovereign’s court, Where with it I may appear a gentleman; And if that ever my low fortunes better, I’ll pay your bounties; till then, rest your debtor.

And, to remember what he does, Build his statue to make him glorious. But tidings to the contrary Are brought your eyes; what need speak I?

Come, thou shalt go home, and we’ll have flesh for holidays, fish for fasting-days, and, moreo’er, puddings and flapjacks, and thou shalt be welcome.