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  • Title: Pericles, Prince of Tyre (Quarto)
  • Editor: Tom Bishop

  • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Tom Bishop
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Pericles, Prince of Tyre (Quarto)

    Pericles Prince of Tyre.
    Baud. If it please the Gods to defend you by men, then
    men must comfort you, men must feed you, men stir you
    vp: Boults returnd. Now sir, hast thou cride her through
    1610the Market?
    Boult. I haue cryde her almost to the number of her
    haires, I haue drawne her picture with my voice.
    Baud. And I prethee tell me, how dost thou find the in-
    clination of the people, especially of the yonger sort?
    1615Boult. Faith they listened to mee, as they would haue
    harkened to their fathers testament, there was a Spaniards
    mouth watred, and he went to bed to her verie description.
    Baud. We shall haue him here to morrow with his best
    ruffe on.
    1620Boult. To night, to night, but Mistresse doe you knowe
    the French knight, that cowres ethe hams?
    Baud. Who, Mounsieur Verollus?
    Boult. I, he, he offered to cut a caper at the proclama-
    tion, but he made a groane at it, and swore he would see her
    1625to morrow.
    Baud. Well, well, as for him, hee brought his disease hi-
    ther, here he does but repaire it, I knowe hee will come in
    our shadow, to scatter his crownes in the Sunne.
    Boult. Well, if we had of euerie Nation a traueller, wee
    1630should lodge them with this signe.
    Baud. Pray you come hither a while, you haue
    Fortunes comming vppon you, marke mee, you must
    seeme to doe that fearefully, which you commit willing-
    ly, despise profite, where you haue most gaine, to weepe
    1635that you liue as yee doe, makes pittie in your Louers sel-
    dome, but that pittie begets you a good opinion, and that
    opinion a meere profite.
    Mari. I vnderstand you not.
    Boult. O take her home Mistresse, take her home, these
    1640blushes of hers must bee quencht with some present