Pericles

alive; behold,
Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels
Which Pericles hath lost,
Begin to part their fringes of bright gold;
The diamonds of a most praised water
Do appear, to make the world twice rich. Live,
And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,
Rare as you seem to be. She moves. Thaisa

O dear Diana,
Where am I? Where’s my lord? What world is this?

Second Gentleman Is not this strange? First Gentleman Most rare. Cerimon

Hush, my gentle neighbours!
Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her.
Get linen: now this matter must be look’d to,
For her relapse is mortal. Come, come;
And Aesculapius guide us! Exeunt, carrying her away.

Scene III

Tarsus. A room in Cleon’s house.

	Enter Pericles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her arms.
Pericles	Most honour’d Cleon, I must needs be gone; My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands In a litigious peace. You, and your lady, Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods Make up the rest upon you!
Cleon	Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally, Yet glance full wanderingly on us.
Dionyza	O your sweet queen! That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither, To have bless’d mine eyes with her!
Pericles	We cannot but obey The powers above us. Could I rage and roar As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end Must be as ’tis. My gentle babe Marina, whom, For she was born at sea, I have named so, here I charge your charity withal, leaving her The infant of your care; beseeching you To give her princely training, that she may be Manner’d as she is born.
Cleon	Fear not, my lord, but think Your grace, that fed my country with your corn, For which the people’s prayers still fall upon you, Must in your child be thought on. If neglection Should therein make me vile, the common body, By you relieved, would force me to my duty: But if to that my nature need a spur, The gods revenge it upon me and mine, To the end of generation!
Pericles	I believe you; Your honour and your goodness teach me to’t, Without your vows. Till she be married, madam, By bright Diana, whom we honour, all Unscissor’d shall this hair of mine remain, Though I show ill in’t. So I take my leave. Good madam, make me blessed in your care In bringing up my child.
Dionyza	I have one myself, Who shall not be more dear to my respect Than yours, my lord.
Pericles	Madam, my thanks and prayers.
Cleon	We’ll bring your grace e’en to the edge o’ the shore, Then give you up to the mask’d Neptune and The gentlest winds of heaven.
Pericles	I will embrace Your offer. Come, dearest madam. O, no tears, Lychorida, no tears: Look to your little mistress, on whose grace You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord. Exeunt.

Scene IV

Ephesus. A room in Cerimon’s house.

	Enter Cerimon and Thaisa.
Cerimon	Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels, Lay with you in your coffer: which are now At your command. Know you the character?
Thaisa	It is my lord’s. That I was shipp’d at sea, I well remember, Even on my eaning time; but whether there Deliver’d, by the holy gods, I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles, My wedded lord, I ne’er shall see again, A vestal livery will I take me to, And never more have joy.
Cerimon	Madam, if this you purpose as ye speak, Diana’s temple is not distant far, Where you may abide till your date expire. Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine Shall there attend you.
Thaisa	My recompense is thanks, that’s all; Yet my good will is great, though the gift small. Exeunt.

Act IV

Enter Gower.

Gower

Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre, Welcomed and settled to his own desire. His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus, Unto Diana there a votaress. Now to Marina bend your mind, Whom our fast-growing scene must find At Tarsus, and by Cleon train’d In music, letters; who hath gain’d Of education all the grace, Which makes her both the heart and place Of general wonder. But, alack, That monster envy, oft the wrack Of earned praise, Marina’s life Seeks to take off by treason’s knife. And in this kind hath our Cleon One daughter, and a wench full grown, Even ripe for marriage-rite; this maid Hight Philoten: and it is said For certain in our story, she Would ever with Marina be: Be’t when she weaved the sleided silk With fingers long, small, white as milk; Or when she would with sharp needle wound The cambric, which she made more sound By hurting it; or when to the lute She sung, and made the night-bird mute, That still records with moan; or when She would with rich and constant pen Vail to her mistress Dian; still This Philoten contends in skill With absolute Marina: so With the dove of Paphos might the crow Vie feathers white. Marina gets All praises, which are paid as debts, And not as given. This so darks In Philoten all graceful marks, That Cleon’s wife, with envy rare, A present murderer does prepare For good Marina, that her daughter Might stand peerless by this slaughter. The sooner her vile thoughts to stead, Lychorida, our nurse, is dead: And cursed Dionyza hath The pregnant instrument of wrath Prest for this blow. The unborn event I do commend to your content: Only I carry winged time Post on the lame feet of my rhyme; Which never could I so convey, Unless your thoughts went on my way. Dionyza does appear, With Leonine, a murderer. Exit.

Scene I

Tarsus. An open place near the sea-shore.

	Enter Dionyza and Leonine.
Dionyza	Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do’t: ’Tis but a blow, which never shall be known. Thou canst not do a thing in the world so soon, To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience, Which is but cold, inflaming love i’ thy bosom, Inflame too nicely; nor let pity, which Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be A soldier to thy purpose.
Leonine	I will do’t; but yet she is a goodly creature.
Dionyza	The fitter, then, the gods should have her. Here she comes weeping for her only mistress’ death. Thou art resolved?
Leonine	I am resolved.
	Enter Marina, with a basket of flowers.
Marina	No, I will rob Tellus