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.

* Eke out.

Gow. By many a dearnt 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 expense,
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,

+ As having succeeded to the thrones of Tyre and Antioch.

+ Lonely.

Help the search.

That, as a duck for life that dives,
So up and down the poor ship drives.
The lady shrieks, and, well-a-near! *
Doth fall in travail with her fear:
And what ensues in this fell storm,
Shall, for itself, itself perform.
I nill relate;t action may
Conveniently the rest convey:
Which might not what by me is told.
In your imagination hold

This stage, the ship, upon whose deck
The sea-toss'd prince appears to speak.

SCENE I.

Enter PERICLES, on a Ship at sea.

Per. Thou God of this great vast, rebuke these surges,
Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that hast
Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,

Having call'd them from the deep! O still thy deaf'ning,
Thy dreadful thunders; gently quench thy nimble,
Sulphureous flashes!-O how, Lychorida,

How does my queen ?-Thou storm, thou! venomously
Wilt thou spit all thyself ?-The seaman's whistle
Is as a whisper in the ears of death,
Unheard.--Lychorida! Lucina, O

Divinest patroness, and midwife, gentle
To those that cry by night, convey thy deity
Aboard our dancing boat; make swift the pangs
Of my queen's travails!-Now, Lychorida-

Enter LYCHORIDA, with an Infant.

Lyc. Here is a thing

Too young for such a place, who if it had
Conceit & would die as I am like to do.

Take in your arms this piece of your dead queen.
Per. How! how, Lychorida!

Lyc. Patience, good Sir; do not assist the storm.

Here's all that is left living of your queen,

A little daughter; for the sake of it,

Be manly, and take comfort.

Per. O you gods!

Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,

And snatch them straight away? We, here below,

Recall not what we give, and therein may

Viell honour with yourselves.

Lyc. Patience, good Sir,

Even for this charge.

Per. Now, mild may be thy life!

For a more blust'rous birth had never babe:

Quiet and gentle thy conditions!

* Equivalent to "well-a-day."
+ Expanse.

+ I will not.

§ Thought.

(In).

[Exit.

For thou'rt the rudeliest welcom❜d to this world,
That e'er was prince's child. Happy what follows!
Thou hast as chiding* a nativity,

As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make,
To herald thee from the womb: even at the first,
Thy loss is more than can thy portage quit,t
With all thou canst find here.-Now the good gods
Throw their best eyes upon it!

Enter two SAILORS.

Sail. What courage, Sir? God save you.
Per. Courage enough: I do not fear the flaw; I
It hath done to me the worst. Yet for the love
Of this poor infant, this fresh-new seafarer,

I would, it would be quiet.

1 Sail. Slack the bolins § there; thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow, and split thyself.

2 Sail. But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon, I care not.

1 Sail. 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. Per. That's your superstition.

1 Sail. Pardon us, Sir; with us at sea it still hath been observed; and we are strong in custom. Therefore briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight.

Per. Be it as you think meet.-Most wretched queen!

Lyc. Here she lies, Sir.

Per. A terrible child-bed 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 aye-remaining || lamps, the belching whale,
And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,
Lying with simple shells. 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.

2 Sail. Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulk'd and bitumed ready.

Per. I thank thee. Mariner, say, what coast is this?

2 Sail. We are near Tharsus.

Per. Thither, gentle mariner,

Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it?

2 Sail. By break of day, if the wind cease.

Per. O make for Tharsus.

* Noisy.
Blast.

+ Than thy entrance into life can requite.

Bowlines.

Ever-burning.

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, a SERVANT, and some persons who have been

Cer. Philemon, ho!

shipwrecked.

Enter PHILEMON.

Phil. Doth my lord call?

Cer. Get fire and meat for these poor men; it has been a turbulent and stormy night.

Serv. I have been in many; but such a night as this,

Till now, I ne'er endured.

Cer. Your master will be dead ere your return:
There's nothing can be minister'd to nature,

That can recover him. Give this to the 'pothecary,
And tell me how it works.

[TO PHILEMON. [Exeunt PHIL., SERV., and those who had been wrecked. Enter two GENTLEMEN.

1 Gent. Good morrow,

Sir.

2 Gent. Good morrow to your lordship.

Cer. Gentlemen,

Why do you stir so early?

1 Gent. 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.

2 Gent. That is the cause we trouble you so early; "Tis not our husbandry.†

Cer. O, you say well.

1 Gent. But I much marvel that your lordship, having

Rich tire about you, should at these early hours

Shake off the golden slumber of repose.

It is most strange,

Nature should be so conversant with pain,

Being thereto not compell'd

Cer. I held 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

* Chief rafters.

+ Attire.

+ I. e. prudence.

Knowledge.

(Together with my practice) 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 gives 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.

2 Gent. 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, personal pain, but even
Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon
Such strong renown as time shall never————

Enter two SERVANTS with a chest.

Serv. So; lift there.
Cer. What is that?
Serv. Sir, even now

Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest ;

"Tis of some wreck.

Cer. Set't down, let's look on it.

2 Gent. 'Tis like a coffin, Sir.

Cer. Whate'er it be,

"Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight;

If the sea's stomach be o'ercharged with gold,

It is a good constraint of fortune, that

It belches upon us.

2 Gent. "Tis so, my lord.

Cer. How close 'tis caulk'd and bitumed!-Did the sea cast

it up?

Serv. I never saw so huge a billow, Sir,

As toss'd it upon shore.

Cer. Come, wrench it open;

Soft, soft!-it smells most sweetly in my sense.

2 Gent. A delicate odour.

Cer. As ever hit my nostril; so,-up with it.

O you most potent god! what's here ? a corse!

1 Gent. Most strange!

Cer. Shrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and entreasured

With bags of spices full! A passport too!

Apollo, perfect me i' the characters!

Here I give to understand

(If e'er this coffin drive a-land),

I, King Pericles, have lost

[Unfolds a scroll.

[Reads.

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!