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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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    Enter Pericles a Shipboard.
    Peri. The God of this great Vast, rebuke these surges,
    Which wash both heauen and hell, and thou that hast
    1115Vpon the Windes commaund, bind them in Brasse;
    Hauing call'd them from the deepe, ô still
    Thy deafning dreadfull thunders, gently quench
    Thy nimble sulphirous flashes: ô How Lychorida!
    How does my Queene? then storme venomously,
    1120Wilt thou speat all thy selfe? the sea-mans Whistle
    Is as a whisper in the eares of death,
    Vnheard Lychorida? Lucina, oh!
    Diuinest patrionesse, and my wife gentle
    To those that cry by night, conuey thy deitie
    1125Aboard our dauncing Boat, make swift the pangues
    Of my Queenes trauayles? now Lychorida.
    Enter Lychorida.
    Lychor. Heere is a thing too young for such a place,
    Who if it had conceit, would die, as I am like to doe:
    1130Take in your armes this peece of your dead Queene.
    Peri. How? how Lychorida?
    Lycho. Patience (good sir) do not assist the storme,
    Heer's all that is left liuing of your Queene;
    A litle Daughter: for the sake of it,
    1135Be manly, and take comfort.
    Per. O you Gods!
    Why do you make vs loue your goodly gyfts,
    And snatch them straight away? we heere below,
    Recall not what we giue, and therein may
    1140Vse honour with you.
    Lycho. Patience (good sir) euen for this charge.
    Per. Now mylde may be thy life,
    For a more blusterous birth had neuer Babe:
    Quiet and gentle thy conditions; for
    1145Thou art the rudelyest welcome to this world,
    That euer was Princes Child: happy what followes,
    Thou hast as chiding a natiuitie,
    As Fire, Ayre, Water, Earth, and Heauen can make,
    To harould thee from the wombe:
    1150Euen at the first, thy losse is more then can
    Thy portage quit, with all thou canst find heere:
    Now the good Gods throw their best eyes vpon't.
    Enter two Saylers.
    1.Sayl. What courage sir? God saue you.
    1155Per. Courage enough, I do not feare the flaw,
    It hath done to me the worst: yet for the loue
    Of this poore Infant, this fresh new sea-farer,
    I would it would be quiet.
    1.Sayl. Slake the bolins there; thou wilt not wilt thou:
    1160Blow and split thy selfe.
    2.Sayl. But Sea-roome, and the brine and cloudy billow
    Kisse the Moone, I care not.
    1. Sir your Queene must ouer board, the sea workes hie,
    The Wind is lowd, and will not lie till the Ship
    1165Be cleard of the dead.
    Per. That's your superstition.
    1. Pardon vs, sir; with vs at Sea it hath bin still obserued.
    And we are strong in easterne, therefore briefly yeeld'er,
    Per. As you thinke meet; for she must ouer board straight:
    1170Most wretched Queene.
    Lychor. Heere she lyes sir.
    Peri. A terrible Child-bed hast thou had (my deare,
    No light, no fire, th'vnfriendly elements,
    Forgot thee vtterly, nor haue I time
    1175To giue thee hallowd to thy graue, but straight,
    Must cast thee scarcly Coffind, in oare,
    Where for a monument vpon thy bones,
    The ayre remayning lampes, the belching Whale,
    And humming Water must orewelme thy corpes,
    1180Lying with simple shels: ô Lychorida,
    Bid Nestor bring me Spices, Incke, and Taper,
    My Casket, and my Iewels; and bid Nicander
    Bring me the Sattin Coffin: lay the Babe
    Vpon the Pillow; hie thee whiles I say
    1185A priestly farewell to her: sodainely, woman.
    2. Sir, we haue a Chist beneath the hatches,
    Caulkt and bittumed ready.
    Peri. I thanke thee: Mariner say, what Coast is this?
    2. Wee are neere Tharsus.
    1190Peri. Thither gentle Mariner,
    Alter thy course for Tyre: When canst thou reach it?
    2. By breake of day, if the Wind cease.
    Peri. O make for Tharsus,
    There will I visit Cleon, for the Babe
    1195Cannot hold out to Tyrus; there Ile leaue it
    At carefull nursing: goe thy wayes good Mariner,
    Ile bring the body presently. Exit..
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