SCENE V.-Pentapolis. A room in the palace. Enter SIMONIDES, reading a letter, the Knights meet him.

1 Knight. Good-morrow to the good Simonides. Sim. Knights, from my daughter this I let you know,

That for this twelvemonth, she'll not undertake
A married life.

Her reason to herself is only known,

Which from herself by no means can I get.

2 Knight. May we not get access to her, my lord? Sim. 'Faith, by no means; she hath so strictly tied her

To her chamber, that it is impossible.

One twelve moons more she'll wear Diana's livery; This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vow'd,

And on her virgin honour will not break it.

3 Knight. Though loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves.

Sim. So,

[Exeunt.

They're well despatch'd; now to my daughter's letter:
She tells me here, she'll wed the stranger knight,
Or never more to view nor day nor light.
Mistress, 'tis well, your choice agrees with mine;
I like that well:-nay, how absolute she's in't,
Not minding whether I dislike or no!

Well, I commend her choice;

And will no longer have it be delay'd.
Soft, here he comes:-I must dissemble it.

Enter PERICLES.

Per. All fortune to the good Simonides!

Sim. To you as much, sir! I am beholden to you For your sweet music this last night: my ears,

I do protest, were never better fed
With such delightful pleasing harmony.

Per. It is your grace's pleasure to commend;
Not my desert.

Sim. Sir, you are music's master.

Per. The worst of all her scholars, my good lord. Sim. Let me ask one thing. What do you think, sir, of

My daughter?

Per. As of a most virtuous princess.

Sim. And she is fair too, is she not?

Per. As a fair day in summer; wond'rous fair. Sim. My daughter, sir, thinks very well of you; Ay, so well, sir, that you must be her master, And she'll your scholar be; therefore look to it. Per. Unworthy I to be her schoolmaster.

Sim. She thinks not so; peruse this writing else.
Per. What's here!

A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre?
'Tis the king's subtilty, to have my life.
Oh, seek not to intrap, my gracious lord,
A stranger and distressed gentleman,

[Aside.

That never aim'd so high, to love your daughter,
But bent all offices to honour her.

Sim. Thou hast bewitch'd my daughter, and thou

art

A villain.

Per. By the gods, I have not, sir.

Never did thought of mine lévy offence;
Nor never did my actions yet commence

A deed might gain her love, or your displeasure.
Sim. Traitor, thou liest.

Per. Traitor!

Sim. Ay, traitor, sir.

Per. Even in his throat, (unless it be the king,) That calls me traitor, I return the lie.

Sim. Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage. [Aside. Per. My actions are as noble as my thoughts, That never relish'd of a base descent.

I came unto your court, for honour's cause,
And not to be a rebel to her state;
And he that otherwise accounts of me,
This sword shall prove he's honour's enemy.
Sim. No!-

Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.

Enter THAISA.

Per. Then, as you are as virtuous as fair,
Resolve your angry father, if my tongue
Did e'er solicit, or my hand subscribe
To any syllable that made love to you?
Thai. Why, sir, say if you had,

Who takes offence at that would make me glad?
Sim. Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory?-

I am glad of it with all my heart. [Aside.] I'll tamè you;

I'll bring you in subjection.

Will you, not having my consent, bestow

Your love and your affections on a stranger?
(Who, for aught I know to the contrary,
Or think, may be as great in blood as Ï.)

[Aside.

Hear therefore, mistress; frame your will to mine,→
And you, sir, hear you.-Either be rul'd by me,
Or I will make you-man and wife.-

Nay, come; your hands and lips must seal it too.
And being join'd, I'll thus your hopes destroy;-
And for a further grief-God give you joy!
What, are you both pleas'd?

Thai. Yes, if you love me, sir.

Per. Even as my life, my blood that fosters it.
Sim. What, are you both agreed?

Both. Yes, 'please your majesty.

Sim. It pleaseth me so well, I'll see you wed; Then, with what haste you can, get you to bed.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

Enter Gower.

Gow. Now sleep yslaked hath the rout;
No din but snores, the house about,
Made louder by the o'er-fed breast
Of this most pompous marriage feast.
The cat, with eyne of burning coal,
Now couches 'fore the mouse's hole;
And crickets sing at th'oven's mouth,
As the blither for their drouth.
Hymen hath brought the bride to bed,
Where, by the loss of maidenhead,
A babe is moulded ;-Be attent,
And time that is so briefly spent,
With your fine fancies quaintly eche;
What's dumb in show, I'll plain with speech.

Dumb show.

Enter Pericles and Simonides at one door, with Attendants; a Messenger meets them, kneels, and gives Pericles a letter. Pericles shows it to Simonides; the Lords kneel to the former. Then enter Thaisa with child, and Lychorida. Simonides shows his daughter the letter; she rejoices: she and Pericles take leave of her Father, and depart. Then Simonides, &c. retire.

Gow. By many a dearn and painful perch, Of Pericles the careful search

By the four opposing coignes,
Which the world together joins,
Is made, with all due diligence,
That horse, and sail, and high expence,
Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre
(Fame answering the most strong inquire,)
To the court of king Simonides

Are letters brought, the tenour these;
Antiochus and his daughter's dead;
The men of Tyrus, on the head
Of Helicanus would set on

The crown of Tyre, but he will none:
The mutiny there he hastes t'appease ;
Says to them, if king Pericles
Come not, in twice six moons, home,
He, obedient to their doom,

Will take the crown. The sum of this,
Brought hither to Pentapolis,

Y-ravished the regions round,

And every one with claps, 'gan sound,

Our heir apparent is a king:

Who dream'd, who thought of such a thing?
Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre:
His queen with child makes her desire
(Which who shall cross?) along to go;
(Omit we all their dole and woe ;)
Lychorida, her nurse, she takes,
And so to sea. Their vessel shakes
On Neptune's billow; half the flood
Hath their keel cut; but fortune's mood
Varies again; the grizzled north
Disgorges such a tempest forth,
That, as a duck for life that dives,
So up and down the poor ship drives,