Pericles

Sailor Slack the bolins there! Thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow, and split thyself. Second Sailor But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon, I care not. First Sailor Sir, your queen must overboard: the sea works high, the wind is loud, and will not lie till the ship be cleared of the dead. Pericles That’s your superstition. First Sailor Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it hath been still observed: and we are strong in custom. Therefore briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight. Pericles As you think meet. Most wretched queen! Lychorida Here she lies, sir. Pericles

A terrible childbed hast thou had, my dear;
No light, no fire: the unfriendly elements
Forgot thee utterly: nor have I time
To give thee hallow’d to thy grave, but straight
Must cast thee, scarcely coffin’d, in the ooze;
Where, for a monument upon thy bones,
And e’er-remaining lamps, the belching whale
And humming water must o’erwhelm thy corpse,
Lying with simple shells. O Lychorida,
Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,
My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander
Bring me the satin coffer: lay the babe
Upon the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say
A priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman. Exit Lychorida.

Second Sailor Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed ready. Pericles I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this? Second Sailor We are near Tarsus. Pericles

Thither, gentle mariner.
Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it?

Second Sailor By break of day, if the wind cease. Pericles

O, make for Tarsus!
There will I visit Cleon, for the babe
Cannot hold out to Tyrus: there I’ll leave it
At careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:
I’ll bring the body presently. Exeunt.

Scene II

Ephesus. A room in Cerimon’s house.

	Enter Cerimon, with a Servant, and some Persons who have been shipwrecked.
Cerimon	Philemon, ho!
	Enter Philemon.
Philemon	Doth my lord call?
Cerimon	Get fire and meat for these poor men: ’T has been a turbulent and stormy night.
Servant	I have been in many; but such a night as this, Till now, I ne’er endured.
Cerimon	Your master will be dead ere you return; There’s nothing can be minister’d to nature That can recover him. To Philemon. Give this to the ’pothecary, And tell me how it works. Exeunt all but Cerimon.
	Enter two Gentlemen.
First Gentleman	Good morrow.
Second Gentleman	Good morrow to your lordship.
Cerimon	Gentlemen, Why do you stir so early?
First Gentleman	Sir, Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea, Shook as the earth did quake; The very principals did seem to rend, And all-to topple: pure surprise and fear Made me to quit the house.
Second Gentleman	That is the cause we trouble you so early; ’Tis not our husbandry.
Cerimon	O, you say well.
First Gentleman	But I much marvel that your lordship, having Rich tire about you, should at these early hours Shake off the golden slumber of repose. ’Tis most strange, Nature should be so conversant with pain, Being thereto not compell’d.
Cerimon	I hold it ever, Virtue and cunning were endowments greater Than nobleness and riches: careless heirs May the two latter darken and expend; But immortality attends the former, Making a man a god. ’Tis known, I ever Have studied physic, through which secret art, By turning o’er authorities, I have, Together with my practise, made familiar To me and to my aid the blest infusions That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones; And I can speak of the disturbances That nature works, and of her cures; which doth give me A more content in course of true delight Than to be thirsty after tottering honour, Or tie my treasure up in silken bags, To please the fool and death.
Second Gentleman	Your honour has through Ephesus pour’d forth Your charity, and hundreds call themselves Your creatures, who by you have been restored: And not your knowledge, your personal pain, but even Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon Such strong renown as time shall ne’er decay.
	Enter two or three Servants with a chest.
First Servant	So; lift there.
Cerimon	What is that?
First Servant	Sir, even now Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest: ’Tis of some wreck.
Cerimon	Set’t down, let’s look upon’t.
Second Gentleman	’Tis like a coffin, sir.
Cerimon	Whate’er it be, ’Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight: If the sea’s stomach be o’ercharged with gold, ’Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us.
Second Gentleman	’Tis so, my lord.
Cerimon	How close ’tis caulk’d and bitumed! Did the sea cast it up?
First Servant	I never saw so huge a billow, sir, As toss’d it upon shore.
Cerimon	Wrench it open; Soft! it smells most sweetly in my sense.
Second Gentleman	A delicate odour.
Cerimon	As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it. O you most potent gods! what’s here? a corse!
First Gentleman	Most strange!
Cerimon	Shrouded in cloth of state; balm’d and entreasured With full bags of spices! A passport too! Apollo, perfect me in the characters! Reads from a scroll. “Here I give to understand, If e’er this coffin drive a-land, I, King Pericles, have lost This queen, worth all our mundane cost. Who finds her, give her burying; She was the daughter of a king: Besides this treasure for a fee, The gods requite his charity!” If thou livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart That even cracks for woe! This chanced to-night.
Second Gentleman	Most likely, sir.
Cerimon	Nay, certainly to-night; For look how fresh she looks! They were too rough That threw her in the sea. Make a fire within: Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet. Exit a Servant. 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.
	Re-enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire.
	Well said, well said; the fire and cloths. The rough and woeful music that we have, Cause it to sound, beseech you. The viol once more: how thou stirr’st, thou block! The music there!⁠—I pray you, give her air. Gentlemen. This queen will live: nature awakes; a warmth Breathes out of her: she hath not been entranced Above five hours: see how she gins to blow Into life’s flower again!
First Gentleman	The heavens, Through you, increase our wonder and set up Your fame for ever.
Cerimon	She is