Act II · Scene V
Pentapolis. A room in the palace.
Hover a speech to translate it — or press play to hear it performed.
Enter SIMONIDES, reading a letter, at one door: the Knights meet him
First Knight
Good morrow to the good Simonides.
SIMONIDES
Knights, from my daughter this I let you know,That for this twelvemonth she'll not undertakeA married life.Her reason to herself is only known,Which yet from her by no means can I get.
Second Knight
May we not get access to her, my lord?
SIMONIDES
'Faith, by no means; she has so strictly tiedHer to her chamber, that 'tis impossible.One twelve moons more she'll wear Diana's livery;This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vow'dAnd on her virgin honour will not break it.
Third Knight
Loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves.
Exeunt Knights
SIMONIDES
So,They are well dispatch'd; now to my daughter's letter:She tells me here, she'd wed the stranger knight,Or never more to view nor day nor light.'Tis well, mistress; 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 do commend her choice;And will no longer have it be delay'd.Soft! here he comes: I must dissemble it.
Enter PERICLES
PERICLES
All fortune to the good Simonides!
SIMONIDES
To you as much, sir! I am beholding to youFor your sweet music this last night: I doProtest my ears were never better fedWith such delightful pleasing harmony.
PERICLES
It is your grace's pleasure to commend;Not my desert.
SIMONIDES
Sir, you are music's master.
PERICLES
The worst of all her scholars, my good lord.
SIMONIDES
Let me ask you one thing:What do you think of my daughter, sir?
PERICLES
A most virtuous princess.
SIMONIDES
And she is fair too, is she not?
PERICLES
As a fair day in summer, wondrous fair.
SIMONIDES
Sir, my daughter thinks very well of you;Ay, so well, that you must be her master,And she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.
PERICLES
I am unworthy for her schoolmaster.
SIMONIDES
She thinks not so; peruse this writing else.
PERICLES
[Aside] What's here?A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!'Tis the king's subtlety to have my life.O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord,A stranger and distressed gentleman,That never aim'd so high to love your daughter,But bent all offices to honour her.
SIMONIDES
Thou hast bewitch'd my daughter, and thou artA villain.
PERICLES
By the gods, I have not:Never did thought of mine levy offence;Nor never did my actions yet commenceA deed might gain her love or your displeasure.
SIMONIDES
Traitor, thou liest.
PERICLES
Traitor!
SIMONIDES
Ay, traitor.
PERICLES
Even in his throat--unless it be the king--That calls me traitor, I return the lie.
SIMONIDES
[Aside] Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage.
PERICLES
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.
SIMONIDES
No?Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.
Enter THAISA
PERICLES
Then, as you are as virtuous as fair,Resolve your angry father, if my tongueDid ere solicit, or my hand subscribeTo any syllable that made love to you.
THAISA
Why, sir, say if you had,Who takes offence at that would make me glad?
SIMONIDES
Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory?
Aside
SIMONIDES
I am glad on't with all my heart.--I'll tame you; I'll bring you in subjection.Will you, not having my consent,Bestow your love and your affectionsUpon a stranger?
Aside
SIMONIDES
who, for aught I know,May be, nor can I think the contrary,As great in blood as I myself.--Therefore hear you, mistress; either frameYour will to mine,--and you, sir, hear you,Either be ruled 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 pleased?
THAISA
Yes, if you love me, sir.
PERICLES
Even as my life, or blood that fosters it.
SIMONIDES
What, are you both agreed?
BOTH
Yes, if it please your majesty.
SIMONIDES
It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you wed;And then with what haste you can get you to bed.
Exeunt
Enter GOWER
GOWER
Now sleep y-slaked hath the rout;No din but snores the house about,Made louder by the o'er-fed breastOf this most pompous marriage-feast.The cat, with eyne of burning coal,Now crouches fore the mouse's hole;And crickets sing at the oven's mouth,E'er 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 spentWith 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 SIMONIDES; the Lords kneel to him. Then enter THAISA with child, with LYCHORIDA a nurse. The KING shows her the letter; she rejoices: she and PERICLES takes leave of her father, and depart with LYCHORIDA and their Attendants. Then exeunt SIMONIDES and the rest
GOWER
By many a dern and painful perchOf Pericles the careful search,By the four opposing coignsWhich the world together joins,Is made with all due diligenceThat horse and sail and high expenseCan stead the quest. At last from Tyre,Fame answering the most strange inquire,To the court of King SimonidesAre letters brought, the tenor these:Antiochus and his daughter dead;The men of Tyrus on the headOf Helicanus would set onThe crown of Tyre, but he will none:The mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;Says to 'em, if King PericlesCome not home in twice six moons,He, obedient to their dooms,Will take the crown. The sum of this,Brought hither to Pentapolis,Y-ravished the regions round,And every one with claps can 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 shakesOn Neptune's billow; half the floodHath their keel cut: but fortune's moodVaries again; the grisly northDisgorges such a tempest forth,That, as a duck for life that dives,So up and down the poor ship drives:The lady shrieks, and well-a-nearDoes fall in travail with her fear:And what ensues in this fell stormShall for itself itself perform.I nill relate, action mayConveniently the rest convey;Which might not what by me is told.In your imagination holdThis stage the ship, upon whose deckThe sea-tost Pericles appears to speak.
Exit
GOWER
SCENE I:
Enter PERICLES, on shipboard
PERICLES
Thou god of this great vast, rebuke these surges,Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that hastUpon the winds command, bind them in brass,Having call'd them from the deep! O, stillThy deafening, dreadful thunders; gently quenchThy nimble, sulphurous flashes! O, how, Lychorida,How does my queen? Thou stormest venomously;Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman's whistleIs as a whisper in the ears of death,Unheard. Lychorida!--Lucina, ODivinest patroness, and midwife gentleTo those that cry by night, convey thy deityAboard our dancing boat; make swift the pangsOf my queen's travails!
Enter LYCHORIDA, with an Infant
PERICLES
Now, Lychorida!
LYCHORIDA
Here is a thing too young for such a place,Who, if it had conceit, would die, as IAm like to do: take in your arms this pieceOf your dead queen.
PERICLES
How, how, Lychorida!
LYCHORIDA
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.
PERICLES
O you gods!Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,And snatch them straight away? We here belowRecall not what we give, and therein mayUse honour with you.
LYCHORIDA
Patience, good sir,Even for this charge.
PERICLES
Now, mild may be thy life!For a more blustrous birth had never babe:Quiet and gentle thy conditions! forThou art the rudeliest welcome to this worldThat ever was prince's child. Happy what follows!Thou hast as chiding a nativityAs fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make,To herald thee from the womb: even at the firstThy loss is more than can thy portage quit,With all thou canst find here. Now, the good godsThrow their best eyes upon't!
Enter two Sailors
First Sailor
What courage, sir? God save you!
PERICLES
Courage enough: I do not fear the flaw;It hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the loveOf this poor infant, this fresh-new sea-farer,I would it would be quiet.
First 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 kissthe 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 becleared of the dead.
PERICLES
That's your superstition.
First Sailor
Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it hath been stillobserved: and we are strong in custom. Thereforebriefly 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 elementsForgot thee utterly: nor have I timeTo give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straightMust cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze;Where, for a monument upon thy bones,And e'er-remaining lamps, the belching whaleAnd 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 NicanderBring me the satin coffer: lay the babeUpon the pillow: hie thee, whiles I sayA priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.
Exit LYCHORIDA
Second Sailor
Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulkedand 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 babeCannot hold out to Tyrus: there I'll leave itAt careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:I'll bring the body presently.
Exeunt