0.1THE

Painful Adventures

of Pericles Prince of

Tyre.

Being

The true History of the Play of Pericles as it was

lately presented by the worthy and an-

cient Poet John Gower.

AT LONDON.

Printed by T.P. for Nat: Butter.

1608

0.2To the right worshipful and most worthy 0.3gentleman Master Henry Fermor of Middlesex, health and eternal happiness.

0.6Right worthy sir, Opinion, that in these 0.7days will make wise men fools and the most 0.8fools (with a little help of their 0.9own arrogancy) seem wise, hath made me 0.10ever fear to throw myself upon the rack 0.11of censure, the which every man in this latter 0.12age doth who is so over-hardy to put his 0.13wit in print. I see, sir, that a good coat with 0.14rich trappings gets a gay ass entrance in 0.15at a great gate (and within, 'a may stalk freely) 0.16when a ragged philosopher with more wit shall 0.17be shut forth of doors. Notwithstanding this, 0.18I know, sir, that Virtue wants no bases to uphold her 0.19but her own kin. In which certain assurance, 0.20and knowing that your worthy self are of that 0.21near alliance to the noble house of Goodness 0.22that you grow out of one stalk, a poor infant of 0.23my brain comes naked unto you, without other clothing 0.24than my love, and craves your hospitality. If you 0.25take this to refuge, her father doth promise that 0.26with more labored hours he can enheighten your 0.27name and memory, and therein shall appear he will 0.28not die ungrateful. Yet thus much he dares say 0.29in the behalf of this: somewhat it containeth that 0.30may invite the choicest eye to read, nothing here 0.31is sure may breed displeasure to any. So leaving 0.32your spare hours to the recreation thereof, and my 0.33boldness now submitting itself to your censure, 0.34not willing to make a great way to a little house, 0.35I rest

0.36Most desirous to be held

0.37all yours,

0.38GEORGE WILKINS.

2Antiochus the Great, who was the first foun3der of Antioch, the most famous city in all 4Syria, having one only daughter in the 5prime and glory of her youth, fell in most 5.1unnatural love with her. And what by the 6power of his persuasions and fear of his 7tyranny, he so prevailed with her yielding heart that he be8came master of his desires. Which to continue to himself, 8.1his daughter being for her beauty desired in 9marriage of many great princes, he made this law: that whoso presumed to desire 10her in marriage and could not unfold the meaning of his questions, for 11that attempt should lose his life. Fearless of this law, many princes 12adventured and in their rashness perished. Amongst the number, PERICLES, 13the Prince of Tyre and neighbor to this tyrant King Antiochus, was the 14last who undertook to resolve this riddle, which he accordingly, through 15his great wisdom, performed.

And, finding both the subtlety and sin of 16the tyrant, for his own safety fled secretly from Antioch back to Tyre, 17and there acquainted Helicanus, a grave counselor of his, with the 18proceedings as also with his present fear what might succeed, from 19whose counsel he took advice for a space to leave his kingdom 20and betake himself to travel. To which yielding, Pericles puts to sea, 21arrives at Tharsus, which he finds (through the dearth of corn) in much 22distress. He there relieves Cleon and Dionyza, with their distressed city, 23with the provision which he brought of purpose. But by his good counselor, 24Helicanus, hearing news of Antiochus' death, he intends for Tyre, puts again 25to sea, suffers shipwreck, his ships and men all lost, till, (as it were) 26Fortune tired with his mishaps, he is thrown upon the shore, relieved 27by certain poor fishermen, and, by an armor of his which they by chance 28dragged up in their nets, his misfortunes being a little repaired, Pericles 29arrives at the court of good Simonides, King of Pentapolis, where through his 30nobleness both in arms and arts he wins the love of fair Thaisa, the 31king's daughter, and by her father's consent marries her.

32In this absence of his, and for which absence, the Tyrians his subjects 33mutiny, would elect Helicanus (whom Pericles ordained his substitute in his 34absence) their king, which passion of theirs Helicanus by his grave persuasions 35subdued, and won them to go in quest of their lost Prince, Pericles. In this 36search he is found, and, with his wife Thaisa who is now with child and Lychorida 37her nurse, having taken leave of his kingly father, puts again for Tyre, but with 38the terror of a tempest at sea, his queen falls in travail, is delivered of a 39daughter whom he names Marina, in which childbirth his queen dies. She is 40thrown overboard, at departure of whom Pericles altereth his course from 41Tyre, being a shorter cut, to his host Cleon in Tharsus. He there leaves his 42young daughter to be fostered up, vowing to himself a solitary and pensive life 43for the loss of his queen.

44Thaisa, thus supposed dead and in the seas buried, is the next morning on 45the shore taken up at Ephesus by Cerimon, a most skilful physician, who by his 46art, practiced upon this queen, so prevailed that after five hours entranced 47she is by his skill brought to able health again, and by her own request by 48him placed to live a votary in Diana's Temple at Ephesus. Marina, Pericles 49sea-born daughter, is by this grown to discreet years, she is envied of 50Dionyza, Cleon's wife, her foster mother, for that Marina's perfection exceedeth 51a daughter of hers. Marina by this envy of hers should have been murdered, 52but being rescued by certain pirates, is as it were reserved to a greater 53mishap, for by them she is carried to Meteline, sold to the devil's broker, a 54bawd, to have been trained up in that infection. She is courted of many, and 55how wonderfully she preserves her chastity.

56Pericles returns from Tyre toward Tharsus to visit the hospitable 57Cleon, Dionyza, and his young daughter Marina, where by Dionyza's dissembling 58tears and a tomb that was erected for her, Pericles is brought to believe 59that his Marina lies there buried, and that she died of her natural death. 60For whose loss he tears his hair, throws off his garments, forswears the 61society of men or any other comfort. In which passion for many months 62continuing, he at last arrives at Meteline, when being seen and pitied by 63Lysimachus, the governor, his daughter (though of him unknown so) is by the 64governor sent for, who by her excellent skill in song, and pleasantness in 65discourse, with relating the story of her own mishap, she so wins again 66her father's lost senses that he knows her for his child, she him for her 67father. In which overjoy, as if his senses were now all confounded, Pericles 68falls asleep, where in a dream he is by Diana warned to go to Ephesus and 69there to make his sacrifice. Pericles obeys, and there comes to the knowledge 70of Thaisa, his wife, with their several joys that they three so strangely 71divided, are as strangely met.

Lysimachus, the governor, marrieth Marina, 72and Pericles, leaving his mourning, causeth the bawd to be burned. Of his 73revenge to Cleon and Dionyza, his rewarding of the fishermen that relieved 74him, his justice toward the pirates that made sale of his daughter, his return 75back to his kingdom, and of him and his wife's deaths. Only entreating the 76Reader to receive this history in the same manner as it was under the habit 77of ancient Gower, the famous English Poet, by the Kings Majesty's Players 78excellently presented.

79The names of the personages mentioned in this history.

80John Gower, the Presenter.

81Antiochus, built Antioch

82His daughter.

83Pericles, Prince of Tyre.

84Thaliart, a villain.

85Helicanus

86Eschines; Two grave counselors.

87Cleon, Governor of Tharsus.

88Dionyza, his wife.

89Two or three fishermen.

90Symonides, King of Pentapolis.

91Thaisa, his daughter.

92Five Princes.

93Lychorida, a nurse.

94Cerimon, a physician.

95Marina, Pericles' daughter.

96A Murderer.

97Pirates.

98A Bawd.

99A Lena.

100A Pander.

101Lysimachus, Governor of Meteline.

102Diana, Goddess of Chastity.

105Wherein Gower describes how Antiochus, surnamed the Great, committed 106incest with his daughter and beheaded such as sued to her for marriage 107if they could not resolve his question, placing their heads upon the top of 108his castle gate, whereby to astonish all others that came to attempt the like.

109The great and mighty King Antiochus, who was as cruel in tyranny 110as he was powerful in possessions, seeking more to enrich himself by shows 111than to renown his name by virtue, caused to be built the goodly city of 112Antioch in Syria, and called it after his own name, as the chiefest seat 113of all his dominions and principal place of his abode. This Antiochus had 114increase by his queen one only daughter, so excellent in beauty as if Nature 115and all perfection had long studied to seem only absolute at her birth.

116This lady growing to like ripeness of age, as she had full endowment of 117outward ornaments, was resorted unto by many youthful princes, who desired 118her in marriage, offering to make her jointure as noble in possessions as 119she by beauty was royal in herself. While the king her father, evermore 120requiring deliberation upon whom rather than other to bestow this his so 121inestimable a jewel, he began suddenly to have an unlawful concupiscence 122to grow in himself, which he augmented with an outrageous flame of cruelty 123sparkling in his heart, and accounted her so worthy in the world that she was 124too worthy for any but himself.

Thus being wrapped with this unnatural love, 125he sustained such a conflict in his thoughts, wherein madness puts modesty to 126flight, giving over his affections to the unlawfulness of his will, rather than 127subdued them with the remembrance of the evil he had then in practice, so 128that not long after, coming into his daughter's chamber and commanding all 129that were near at her attendance to depart, as if he had had some careful 130and fatherly business the necessity of whose import desired some private 131conference with her, he began to make motion of that unjust love to her, 132which even lust itself, had it not in a father been so brazed with 133impudency, would have blushed but even to have thought upon.

Much persuasion, 134though to little reason, he used, as that he was her father, whom she was 135bound to obey, he was a king that had power to command, he was in love and 136his love was resistless, and if resistless therefore pitiless either to 137youth, blood, or beauty. In brief, he was a tyrant and would execute his will. 138These words thus uttered with that vehement passion which such sinful lovers 139fit themselves unto in such desires, and such immodest syllables were by him 140contracted together that my pen grubs to recite them, and made the school 141of his daughter's thoughts (wherein were never taught such evils) to wonder 142at the strangeness, as understanding them not, and at last, to demand of her 143unkingly father what he meant by this. When he, forgetting the fear of 144heaven, love to his child, or reputation amongst men (though by her withstood 145with prayers and tears while the power of weakness could withstand), 146throwing away all regard of his own honesty, he unloosed the knot of her 147virginity, and so left this weeping branch to wither by the stock that 148brought her forth.

So fast came the wet from the sentinels of her ransacked 149city, that it is improper to say they dropped and rained down tears, but 150rather that with great floods they poured out water. It is beyond imagination 151to think whether her eyes had power to receive her sorrow's brine so fast as 152her heart did send it to them. In brief, they were now no more to be called 153eyes, for grief's water had blinded them. And for words, she had not one to 154utter, for betwixt her heart's intent and tongue's utterance there lay such a 155pile of lamentable cogitations that she had no leisure to make up any of 156them into words. Till at the last, a nurse that attended her coming in 157and finding her face blubbered with tears, which she knew were strange 158guests to the table of her beauty, first standing in amaze thereat, at 159last, by the care she had in charge of her, being more enheartened: "Dear 160child and madam," quoth she, "why sit you so sorrowfully?" Which question 161getting way betwixt grief and her utterance: "Oh, my beloved nurse," answered 162the lady, "even now two noble names were lost within this chamber, the name 163of both a father, and a child." The meaning of which secret the nurse 164understanding not, she entreated her to be more plain, that by knowing 165the cause of her grief, she might use means to redress it, or else that 166herself in her own wisdom would allay the violence of that tempest which 167did wrong to so goodly a building.

But she, loth to be the bellows of her 168own shame, and blushing more to rehearse than her father was to commit, sat 169sighing and continued silent, until Antiochus, not satisfied with the fruit 170obtained by his former desire, returned, and -- like him that by stealth hath 171filched a taste from forth a goodly orchard is not therewith contented but 172either waiteth his opportunity to steal till he be glutted with his stealth 173or so adventurous that he is taken, to his everlasting shame -- so this 174Antiochus, coming back into the chamber and finding his daughter as full 175of wet as winter is, commanded the absence of the nurse, which she 176accordingly obeying, he began to persuade her that actions past are not 177to be redeemed; that what's in secret done is no sin, since the concealment 178excuses it; that evils are no evils if not thought upon; and that himself, 179her father, had that power to gag all mouths from speaking, if it were known. 180Besides, her state, his greatness, his kingdom, her beauty were ornaments 181enough to draw the greatest princes to join with her in marriage, and he 182would further it.

So with these and such like persuasions prevailing with 183his daughter, they long continued in these foul and unjust embracements, 184till at last the custom of sin made it accounted no sin. And while 185this wicked father showed the countenance of a loving sire abroad in the 186eyes of his subjects, notwithstanding at home he rejoiceth to have played 187the part of a husband with his own child, with false resemblance of 188marriage. And to the intent he might always enjoy her, he invented a strange 189policy, to compel away all suitors from desiring her in marriage, by 190propounding strange questions, the effect and true meaning whereof was thus 191published in writing: "Whoso attempteth and resolveth me of my question shall 192have my daughter to wife; But whoso attempteth and faileth shall lose his head."

193Which will of his when Fame had blown abroad, and that by this his 194law there was found a possibility for the obtaining of this lady, such was the 195singular report of her surpassing beauty that many princes and men of great 196nobility to that purpose repaired thither, who, not being able to explain his 197riddle propounded, lost their heads, which, to the terrifying of others that 198should attempt the like, were placed for open view on the top of his 199castle gate.

201How Pericles, arriving at Antioch, resolved the king's question; and 202how Thaliart, Antiochus' steward, was sent to murder him.

203Whilst Antiochus continued thus exercising his tyrannies on the 204lives of several princes, Pericles, the Prince of Tyre, won with the 205wonderful report of this lady's beauty, was (as other princes before) 206drawn to the undertaking of this desperate adventure. And approaching near 207Antioch, where there were no sooner news that he was coming but there was 208as great a preparation for the receiving of him, the lords and peers in their 209richest ornaments to entertain him, the people with their greedy and 210unsatisfied eyes to gaze upon him. For in that part of the world there was 211in those days no prince so noble in arms or excellent in arts and had so 212general and deserved a report by fame as Pericles, Prince of Tyre. Which drew 213both peer and people with a joyful and free desire to allow him their 214embracements and to wish him happy success, requiring no other but such a 215happy sovereign to hope in.

For so cunningly had Antiochus dealt in this 216incest with his daughter that it was yet unsuspected of the nearest that 217attended him.

With which solemnity and suffrages being brought into the 218presence of the tyrant, and by him demanded the cause of his arrival at 219Antioch, and being by the prince answered that it was in love to his daughter 220and in hope to enjoy her by resolving of his question, Antiochus then first 221began to persuade him from the enterprise and to discourage him from his 222proceedings by showing him the frightful heads of the former princes placed 223upon his castle wall and like to whom he must expect himself to be if, 224like them (as it was most like), he failed in his attempt.

But Pericles, armed 225with these noble armors, Faithfulness and Courage, and making himself fit 226for death if death proved fit for him, replied that he was come now to 227meet death willingly, if so were his misfortune, or to be made ever fortunate 228by enjoying so glorious a beauty as was enthroned in his princely daughter and 229was there now placed before him. Which the tyrant receiving with an angry brow 230threw down the riddle, bidding him, since persuasions could not alter him, to 231read and die, being in himself confident the mystery thereof was not to be 232unfolded. Which the prince taking up, read aloud, the purpose of which was 233in these words:

242Which secret, whilst Prince Pericles was reading, Antiochus' 243daughter -- whether it were that she now loathed that unnecessary custom 244in which she had so long continued or that her own affection taught her 245to be in love with his perfections, our story leaves unmentioned -- but this 246for certain, all the time that the prince was studying with what truth to 247unfold this dark enigma, desire flew in a robe of glowing blushes into her 248cheeks, and love enforced her to deliver thus much from her own tongue: 249that he was sole sovereign of all her wishes, and he the gentleman, 250of all her eyes had ever yet beheld, to whom she wished a thriving 251happiness.

By which time, the prince having fully considered upon what he 252had read and found the meaning both of the secret and their abominable 253sins, Antiochus, rising up, demanded the solution of his question, or to 254attend the sentence of his death. But the gentle prince, wisely foreknowing 255that it is as dangerous to play with tyrant's evils as the fly to sport 256with the candle's flame, rather seemed to dissemble what he knew than to 257discover his insight to Antiochus' knowledge -- yet so circumspectly that 258Antiochus suspected, or at least his own known guilt made him so suspect, 259that he had found the meaning of his foul desire and their more foul 260actions.

And seeming (as it were) then to pity him whom now in soul he 261hated, and that he rather required his future happiness than any blemish 262to his present fortunes, he told him that for the honor of his name, 263the nobleness of his worth, nay his own dear and present love to him 264(were it not against the dignity and state of his own love) in his tender 265and princely disposition, he could from the whole world select him as a 266choice husband for his daughter, since he found him so far wide from 267revealing of the secret. Yet thus far he should perceive his love should 268extend towards him, which before time had not been seen to stretch it269self to any of those decayed princes, of whose falls his eyes were careful 270witnesses: that for forty days he gave him only longer respite, if by which 271time (and with all the endeavors, counsel and advice he could use) he can 272find out what was yet concealed from him, it should be evident how gladly he 273would rejoice to joy in such a son rather than have cause of sorrow by his 274untimely ruin.

And in the meantime, in his own court, by the royalty of 275his entertainment he should perceive his welcome.

With which and other such 276like gratulations their presences being divided, Antiochus betook himself 277to his chamber and princely Pericles to diligent consultations of his present 278estate. Where when he had a while considered with himself that what he had 279found was true, and this substantially was the true meaning of his riddle, 280he was become both father, son, and husband by his uncomely and abhorred 281actions with his own child, and she a devourer of her mother's flesh by the 282unlawful couplings with her own father, and the defiling of her mother's bed, 283and that this courtesy of Antiochus toward him was but his hypocrisy to 284have his sin concealed till he found fit occasion to take fit revenge 285by the instruments of tyrants -- poison, treason -- or by any means, he resolved 286himself with all expedition, the next darkness being his best conductor, to 287fly back to Tyre.

Which he effecting, and Antiochus being now private in his 288lodging, and ruminating with himself that Pericles had found out the secret 289of his evil which he in more secret had committed, and knowing that he had 290now power to rip him open to the world, and make his name so odious that, as 291now heaven did, so at the knowledge thereof all good men would contemn him. 292

And in this study, not knowing how otherwise to help himself from this 293reproof, he hastily calleth for one Thaliart, who was steward of his household, 294and in many things before had received the embracement of his mind. This 295Thaliart, as Pericles forethought, he presently bribed with gold and 296furthered with poison to be this harmless gentleman's executioner. To which 297purpose, as he was about to receive his oath, there came hastily a messenger 298that brought him news the Tyrian ships were that night departed his harbor, 299and that by intelligence he had learned the prince also was fled for Tyre. 300At whose escape Antiochus storming, but not desisting from his former practice, 301he commanded his murdering minister, Thaliart, to dispatch his best performance 302after him, sometime persuading him, at others threatening him, in Tyre to see 303him, in Tyre to kill him, or back to Antioch never to return.

Which villainous 304mind of his as ready to yield as the tyrant was to command, Thaliart in all 305secrecy is shipped from Antioch, while Pericles in this interim is arrived at 306Tyre, where, knowing what was past and fearing what might succeed, not to 307himself but for the care he had of his subjects, remembering his power too 308weak, if occasion were offered, to contend with the greatness of Antiochus, he 309was so troubled in mind that no advice of counsel could persuade him, no 310delights of the eye content him, neither any pleasure whatsoever comfort him, 311but still taking to heart that, should Antiochus make war upon him, as 312fearing lest he should speak his shame which he intended not to reveal, his 313misfortune should be the ruin of his harmless people.

314In this sorrow consisting, one Helicanus, a grave and wise counselor 315of his -- as a good prince is ever known by his prudent counsel -- as much 316grieved in mind for his prince's distemperature as his prince was troubled 317with the fear of his subjects' mishap, came hastily into the chamber to him, 318and, finding him so distasting mirth that he abandoned all familiar society, 319he boldly began to reprove him, and not sparingly told him he did not 320well so to abuse himself, to waste his body there with pining sorrow, upon 321whose safety depended the lives and prosperity of a whole kingdom; that it 322was ill in him to do it, and no less in his counsel to suffer him without 323contradicting it.

At which, although the prince bent his brow sternly 324against him, he left not to go forward, but plainly told him it was as fit 325for him being a prince to hear of his own error as it was lawful for his 326authority to command; that while he lived so shut up, so unseen, so careless 327of his government, order might be disorder for all him, and what detriment 328soever his subjects should receive by this his neglect, it were injustice, 329to be required at his hands.

Which chiding of this good old lord the gentle 330prince courteously receiving, took him into his arms, thanked him that he 331was no flatterer, and, commanding him to seat himself by him, he from point 332to point related to him all the occurrents past, and that his present sorrow 333was for the fear he had of Antiochus' tyranny; his present studies were for 334the good of his subjects; his present care was for the continuing safety of 335his kingdom, of which himself was a member, which for slackness chid him. 336Which uprightness of this prince calling tears into the old man's eyes and 337compelling his knees to the earth, he humbly asked his pardon, confirming 338that what he had spoke sprung from the power of his duty and grew not 339from the nature of disobedience. When Pericles, no longer suffering such honored 340aged knees to stoop to his youth, lifting him up, desired of him that his 341counsel now would teach him how to avoid that danger which his fear gave 342him cause to mistrust. Which in this manner was by the good Helicanus advised 343and by princely Pericles yielded unto: that he should forthwith betake 344himself to travel, keeping his intent whither as private from his subjects 345as his journey was sudden, that upon his trust he should leave the government, 346grounding which counsel upon this principle: "Absence abates that edge that 347Presence whets." In brief, Pericles knew Helicanus trusty, and consented.

348So with store of corn and all necessaries fit for a kingly voyage, he in 349secret hath shipped himself from Tyre. Helicanus is protector of the kingdom 350in his absence; and our story now hath brought us to the landing of Thaliart, 351with a body fraught as full of treason against Pericles as his master 352Antiochus was of tyranny; who no sooner ashore, but he had his ears filled 353with the general lamentation of the Tyrian people: the aged sighed, the youth 354wept, all mourned, helping one another how to make up sorrow to the highest 355heap, as if with the absence of their prince they had lost their prince, and 356with his loss they had present feeling of a succeeding overthrow. Which the 357villain understanding, and finding himself both bereft of his purpose and 358his master of his intent, he, as traitors do, stole back to Antioch, resolving 359Antiochus of what he knew. By which time, the clamors of the multitude being 360for a time pacified by the wisdom of Helicanus and the peace of the common361wealth by his prudence defended, our princely Pericles, with spread sails, 362fair winds, and full success, is now arrived at Tharsus.

364How Pericles arriving at Tharsus relieved the city, almost 365famished for want of food, and how Helicanus sent him word of what had 366happened at Tyre, with his departure from Tharsus.

367Prince Pericles by the advice of his good counselor Helicanus 368having left Tyre and intended his whole course for Tharsus, of which city 369Lord Cleon was governor, who at this instance with Dionyza, his wife, were 370relating the present miseries wherein themselves and their city Tharsus 371consisted, the ground of which forced lamentation was to see the power of 372change: that this their city, who not two summers' younger did so excel in 373pomp and bore a state whom all her neighbors envied for her greatness, to 374whom strangers resorted as to the school of variety where they might best 375enrich their understandings with experience, whose houses were like so many 376courts for kings rather than sleeping-places for subjects, whose people were 377curious in their diet, rich in attire, envious in looks, where was plenty 378in abundance, pride in fulness, nothing in scarceness but charity and 379love, the dignity of whose palates the whole riches of Nature could hardly 380satisfy, the ornaments of whose attire art itself with all invention could 381not content, are now so altered that, instead of downy beds, they make their 382pillows on boards, instead of full furnished tables, hunger calls now out 383for so much bread as may but satisfy life. Sack-cloth is now their wearing 384instead of silk, tears instead of enticing glances are now the acquaintance 385of their eyes; in brief, riot hath here lost all her dominion, and now is no 386excess but what's in sorrow. Here stands one weeping, and there lies another 387dying. So sharp are hunger's teeth and so ravenous the devouring mouth of 388famine that all pity is exiled between the husband and the wife, nay all 389tenderness between the mother and the children. Faintness hath now got that 390empery over strength, there is none so whole to relieve the sick; neither 391have the living sufficiency to give burial to the dead.

Thus, while this 392Cleon, Lord Governor of Tharsus, and Dionyza, his lady, with interchanging 393words were describing the sorrows which their almost unpeopled city felt, 394who from the height of multiplication were substracted almost to nothing -- 395for what is life if it want sustenance? --, a fainting messenger came slowly 396in to them. His fearful looks described that he brought sorrow, and in 397slow words he delivered this: that upon their coasts there was discovered 398a fleet of ships making thitherward.

Which Cleon supposing to be an army 399which some neighbor nation (taking advantage of their present mishap) had 400sent for their utter overthrow, he commanded the bringer, upon their 401landing, to this purpose to salute their general: that Tharsus was subdued 402before their coming; and that it was small conquest to subdue where there was 403no ability to resist; that they desired but this -- that their city might still 404stand; and that for the riches which their prosperity had purchased, they 405freely resigned to them, they, though their enemies, for humanity's sake 406in the place of breeding would afford them burial.

Pericles by this 407is landed, and no sooner entered into their unshut gates but his princely 408eyes were partaking witnesses of their widowed desolation. The messenger 409by this also hath delivered the pleasure of the governor, which the prince 410weeping to attend, who rather came to relieve than to ransack, he demanded 411of the fellow where the governor was, and forthwith to be conducted to 412him. Which being effected, in the marketplace they met, where Pericles 413without further hindrance delivered to him that his thoughts were deceived 414to suppose them for enemies, who were now come to them for comfortable friends, 415and those his ships, which their fears might cause them to think were 416fraughted with their destruction, were entreasured with corn for their 417relief. At which the feeble souls, not having strength enough to give 418a shout for joy, gazing on him and heaven, fell on their knees and wept. 419

But Pericles going to the place of judgement, causing all the living to be 420assembled thither, thus freely delivered to them: "You citizens of Tharsus, 421whom penury of victual pincheth at this present, know you that I, 422Pericles, Prince of Tyre, am come purposely to relieve you, in respect of 423which benefit I doubt not but you will be thus thankful as to conceal 424my arriving here, and for a while to give me safe harborage and hospitality 425for my ships and men, since by the tyranny of Antiochus, though not driven, 426yet for a while I am desirous to leave mine own country and continue my 427residence here with you. In recompense of which love, I have brought with 428me a hundred thousand bushels of wheat, which equally for your relief 429shall be distributed amongst you, each man paying for every bushel eight 430pieces of brass, the price bestowed thereon in my own country."

At which, 431as if the very name of bread only had power to renew strength in them, they 432gave a great shout, offering their city to him as his own and their 433repaired strength in his defence. With which corn their necessities being 434supplied, and every man willingly paying his eight pieces of brass as he 435had appointed, Pericles demanded for the governor and the chief men 436of the government, disdaining to be a merchant to sell corn, but out of 437his princely magnificence bestowed the whole revenue thereof to the 438beautifying of their city. Which when the citizens understood, to 439gratify these large benefits and to acknowledge him their patron and 440reliever sent them by the gods, they erected in the marketplace a monument 441in the memorial of him, and made his statue of brass, standing in a 442chariot, holding corn in his right hand and spurning it with his left 443foot. And on the bases of the pillar whereon it stood was engraven in 444great letters this inscription: "Pericles, Prince of Tyre, gave a gift unto the 445city of Tharsus, whereby he delivered it from cruel death." So a while we 446desire the reader to leave Pericles heartening up the decayed citizens 447of Tharsus, and turn their eyes to good Helicanus at Tyre.

448Good Helicanus, as provident at home as his prince was prosperous 449abroad, let no occasion slip wherein he might send word to Tharsus of what 450occurrents soever had happened in his absence, the chief of which was 451that Thaliart by Antiochus was sent with purpose to murder him, and that 452Antiochus, though failing in his practice by his absence, seemed not yet 453to desist from like intents, but that he again suborned such like 454instruments to the like treason, advising him for his more 455certain safety for a while to leave Tharsus, as a refuge too near 456the reach of the tyrant. To which Pericles consenting, he takes his leave 457of his host, Cleon and Dionyza, and the citizens as sorry to leave him as 458sorrow can be for the lack of comfort.

460How Pericles puts forth to sea, suffers shipwreck, is relieved by 461certain poor fishermen, at last arrives at Simonides' court, King of Pentapolis, 462where in feats of arms he exceedeth all the princes that came to honor the 463birthday of his fair daughter, Thaisa, and with purpose also to sue to her 464for marriage.

465Prince Pericles having thus relieved Tharsus, and been warned (for 466the avoidance of a greater danger) by his good counselor, Helicanus, to 467forsake the city, though not without much sorrow of the citizens for his 468departure, he is once again at sea, seeking a new refuge, and accounting 469any country his best inn where he found the best safety.

No sooner were 470his wooden castles floating on the unconstant deeps but, as if Neptune 471himself, chief sovereign of that watery empire, would have come in person 472to have given calm gratulations and friendly welcomes to this courteous 473prince, the whole nation of the floods were at quiet: there were no winds 474blustering, no surges rising, no rains showering, no tempest storming, but 475all calmness was upon the face of this kingdom, only a troupe of cheerful 476dolphins, as ambassadors sent from their kingly master, came dancing on 477the waters for the entertaining of him. At which, his joyful mariners, 478being scarce from sight of land, with pleasant notes spread forth their 479comely sails, and with their brazen keels cut an easy passage on the 480green meadows of the floods.

At last, Fortune having brought him here 481where she might make him the fittest tennis-ball for her sport, even as 482suddenly as thought this was the alteration: the heavens began to thunder 483and the skies shone with flashes of fire; day now had no other show but 484only name, for darkness was on the whole face of the waters; hills of seas 485were about him, one sometimes tossing him to the face of heaven, while 486another sought to sink him to the roof of hell; some cried, others 487labored, he only prayed. At last, two ravenous billows meeting, the 488one with intent to stop up all clamor and the other to wash away all 489labor, his vessels, no longer able to wrestle with the tempest, were all 490split. In brief, he was shipwrecked, his good friends and subjects all 491were lost, nothing left to help him but distress, and nothing to complain 492unto but his misery.

O calamity! there might you have heard the winds 493whistling, the rain dashing, the sea roaring, the cables cracking, the 494tacklings breaking, the ship tearing, the men miserably crying out to 495save their lives. There might you have seen the sea searching the ship, 496the boards fleeting, the goods swimming, the treasure sinking, and the 497poor souls shifting to save themselves, but all in vain, for, partly by 498the violence of the tempest and partly through that dismal darkness 499which unfortunately was come upon them, they were all drowned, gentle 500Pericles only excepted, till (as it were Fortune being tired with this 501mishap) by the help of a plank, which in this distress he got hold 502on, he was, with much labor and more fear, driven on the shore of 503Pentapolis.

Where a while complaining him of his mishaps and accusing 504the gods of this injury done to his innocency, not knowing on what shore, 505whether friend or foe he had, being certain fishermen, who had also suffered 506in the former tempest and had been witnesses of his untimely shipwreck 507(the day being cleared again) were come out from their homely cottages 508to dry and repair their nets. Who being busied about their work, and 509no whit regarding his lamentation, passed away their labor with discourse 510to this purpose: in comparing the sea to brokers and usurers, who seem fair 511and look lovely till they have got men into their clutches, when one 512tumbles them and another tosses them, but seldom leaving until they 513have sunk them. Again comparing our rich men to whales, that make a 514great show in the world, rolling and tumbling up and down, but are 515good for little but to sink others; that the fishes live in the sea 516as the powerful on shore, the great ones eat up the little ones. With 517which moral observations driving out their labor, and Prince Pericles, 518wondering that from the finny subjects of the sea these poor country people 519learned the infirmities of men more than man's obduracy and dullness could 520learn one of another.

At length, overcharged with cold which the extremity 521of water had pressed him with, and no longer being able to endure, he was 522compelled to demand their simple help, offering to their ears the mishap 523of his shipwreck, which he was no sooner about to relate, but they 524remembered their eyes, not without much sorrow, to have been the witnesses 525thereof. And beholding the comely feature of this gentleman, the chief 526of these fishermen was moved with compassion toward him, and lifting him 527up from the ground, himself, with the help of his men, led him to his 528house, where, with such fare as they presently had or they could readily 529provide, they with a hearty welcome feasted him. And, the more to express 530their tenderness to his misfortune, the master dishabited himself of his 531outward apparel to warm and cherish him, which courtesy Pericles as 532courteously receiving, vowing, if ever his fortunes came to their ancient 533height, their courtesies should not die unrecompensed.

And being somewhat 534repaired in heart by their relief, he demanded of the country on the 535which he was driven, of the name of the king, and of the manner of the 536government; when the master fisherman commanding his servants to go 537drag up some other nets which yet were abroad, he seated himself 538by him, and of the question he demanded, to this purpose resolved him: 539"Our country here on the which you are driven, sir, is called Pentapolis, 540and our good king thereof is called Symonides." "The good king call you him?" 541quoth Pericles. "Yea, and rightly so called sir," quoth the poor fisherman, 542"who so governs his kingdom with justice and uprightness that he is no 543readier to command than we his subjects are willing to obey." "He is a 544happy king," quoth Pericles, "since he gains the name of good by his 545government."

And then demanded how far his court was distant from 546that place, wherein he was resolved, "some half a day's journey," and from 547point to point also informed that the king had a princely daughter named 548Thaisa, in whom was beauty so joined with virtue that it was as yet 549unresolved which of them deserved the greater comparison. And in memory 550of whose birthday, her father yearly celebrated feasts and triumphs, 551in the honor of which many princes and knights from far and remote 552countries came, partly to approve their chivalry but especially (being 553her father's only child) in hope to gain her love.

Which name of chivalry 554to approve, that all the violence of the water had not power to quench 555the nobleness of his mind, Pericles sighing to himself he broke out 556thus: "Were but my fortunes answerable to my desires, some should feel 557that I would be one there." When as if all the gods had given a plaudit 558to his words, the fishermen, who before were sent out by their master 559to drag out the other nets, having found somewhat in the bottom too 560ponderous for their strength to pull up, they began to lure and hallow 561to their master for more help, crying that there was a fish hung in their 562net like a poor man's case in the law: it would hardly come out. But 563industry being a prevailing workman, before help came, up came the 564fish expected, but proved indeed to be a rusty armor.

At the name of 565which word armor Pericles being roused, he desired of the poor fishermen 566that he, who better than they was acquainted with such furniture, might 567have the view of it. In brief, what he could ask of them was granted: 568the armor is by Pericles viewed, and known to be a defence which his 569father at his last will gave him in charge to keep, that it might prove 570to be a defender of the son which he had known to be a preserver of 571the father.

So accounting all his other losses nothing, since he had that 572again whereby his father could not challenge him of disobedience, and 573thanking Fortune, that after all her crosses, she had yet given him 574somewhat to repair his fortunes, begging this armor of the fishermen 575and telling them that with it he would show the virtue he had learned 576in arms and try his chivalry for their princess, Thaisa, which they 577applauding and one furnishing him with an old gown to make caparisons578for his horse, which horse he provided with a jewel whom all the raptures 579of the sea could not bereave from his arm, and other furnishing him with 580the long side-skirts of their cassocks to make him bases, his armor 581rusted, and thus disgracefully habilited, Prince Pericles with their 582conduct is gone to the court of Symonides, where the fishermen had foretold 583him was all the preparation that either art or industry might attain 584unto to solemnize the birthday of fair Thaisa, the good King Symonides' 585daughter.

This is the day, this Symonides' court, where the king himself 586with the princess his daughter have placed themselves in a gallery to 587behold the triumphs of several princes, who in honor of the princess' 588birthday, but more in hope to have her love, came purposely thither to 589approve their chivalry.

They thus seated; and Prince Pericles, as well 590as his own providing and the fishermen's care could furnish him, likewise 591came to the court. In this manner also several princes (their horses richly 592caparisoned, but themselves more richly armed, their pages before them 593bearing their devices on their shields) entered then the tilting place. 594The first, a prince of Macedon, and the device he bore upon his shield 595was a black Ethiop reaching at the sun, the word, Lux tua vita mihi, 596which being by the knight's page delivered to the lady and from her 597presented to the king her father, he made plain to her the meaning of 598each imprese.

And for this first, it was that the Macedonian prince 599loved her so well he held his life of her. The second, a prince of 600Corinth, and the device he bare upon his shield was a wreath of chivalry, 601the word, Me pompae provexit apex: the desire of renown drew him to this 602enterprise. The third of Antioch, and his device was an armed knight 603being conquered by a lady, the word: Pue per dolcera qui per sforsa: 604more by lenity than by force. The fourth of Sparta, and the device he 605bore was a man's arm environed with a cloud, holding out gold that's 606by the touchstone tried, the word, Sic spectanda fides: so faith is to 607be looked into. The fifth of Athens, and his device was a flaming torch 608turned downward, the word, Qui me alit me extinguit: that which gives 609me life gives me death.

The sixth and last was Pericles, Prince of Tyre, 610who, having neither page to deliver his shield nor shield to deliver, 611making his device according to his fortunes, which was a withered branch 612being only green at the top, which proved the abating of his body, 613decayed not the nobleness of his mind, his word, In hac spe vivo, 614in that hope I live. Himself with a most graceful courtesy presented 615it unto her, which she as courteously received, whilst the peers attending 616on the king forbore not to scoff both at his presence and the present 617he brought, being himself in a rusty armor, the caparison of his horse 618of plain country russet, and his own bases but the skirts of a poor 619fisherman's coat.

Which the king mildly reproving them for, he told 620them that as virtue was not to be approved by words but by actions, 621so the outward habit was the least table of the inward mind, and, 622counseling them not to condemn ere they had cause to accuse, they went 623forward to the triumph, in which noble exercise they came almost all 624as short of Pericles' perfections as a body dying [does] of a life flourishing. 625To be short, both of court and commons, the praises of none were spoken 626of but of the mean knight's (for by any other name he was yet unknown 627to any).

But, the triumphs being ended, Pericles as chief (for in this 628day's honor he was champion), with all the other princes, were by the 629king's marshal conducted into the presence, where Simonides and his 630daughter, Thaisa, with a most stately banquet stayed to give them a 631thankful entertainment. At whose entrance, the lady first saluting 632Pericles, gave him a wreath of chivalry, welcomed him as her knight 633and guest, and crowned him king of that day's noble enterprise.

In the 634end, all being seated by the marshal at a table placed directly 635over-against where the king and his daughter sat, as it were by some 636divine operation both king and daughter at one instant were so struck 637in love with the nobleness of his worth that they could not spare so 638much time to satisfy themselves with the delicacy of their viands for 639talking of his praises; while Pericles, on the other side, observing the 640dignity wherein the king sat, that so many princes came to honor him, 641so many peers stood ready to attend him, he was struck with present 642sorrow by remembering the loss of his own.

Which the good Symonides 643taking note of, and accusing himself before there was cause that 644Pericles' spirits were dumped into their melancholy through some dislike 645of the slackness he found in his entertainment or neglect of his 646worth, calling for a bowl of wine, he drank to him, and so much 647further honored him that he made his daughter rise from her seat to 648bear it to him, and withal willing her to demand of him his name, 649country and fortunes, a message (gentle lady) she was as ready to 650obey unto as her father was to command, rejoicing that she had any 651occasion offered her whereby she might speak unto him.

Pericles by 652this time hath pledged the king, and by his daughter (according to his 653request) thus returneth what he is: that he was a gentleman of Tyre, 654his name Pericles, his education been in arts and arms, who, looking 655for adventures in the world, was by the rough and unconstant seas most 656unfortunately bereft both of ships and men, and after shipwreck 657thrown upon that shore. Which mishaps of his the king understanding of, 658he was struck with present pity to him, and, rising from his state, 659he came forthwith and embraced him, bad him be cheered, and told him 660that whatsoever Misfortune had impaired him of, Fortune, by his help, 661could repair to him, for both himself and country should be his 662friends. And presently calling for a goodly milk-white steed and 663a pair of golden spurs, them first he bestowed upon him, telling him, 664they were the prizes due to his merit and ordained for that day's 665enterprise, which kingly courtesy Pericles as thankfully accepting.

666Much time being spent in dancing and other revels, the night being 667grown old, the king commanded the knights should be conducted to 668their lodgings, giving order that Pericles' chamber should be next his 669own, where we will leave them to take quiet rest, and return back to Tyre.

671How Helicanus heard news of Antiochus' and his daughter's deaths; 672and of his sending of other lords in search of their Prince Pericles.

673Antiochus, who, as before is discoursed, having committed with his 674own daughter so foul a sin, shamed not in the same foulness to remain 675in it with her, neither had she that touch of grace by repentance to 676constrain him to abstinence or by persuasion to deny his continuance. 677Long, like those miserable serpents did their greatness flourish who 678use fairest shows for foulest evils, till one day, himself seated with 679her in a chariot made of the purest gold, attended by his peers and 680gazed on by his people, both appareled all in jewels to outface 681suspicion and beget wonder (as if that glorious outsides were a wall 682could keep heaven's eye from knowing our intents) in great magnificence 683rode they through Antioch.

But see the justice of the Highest! Though 684sin flatter and man persevere, yet surely Heaven at length doth 685punish. For as thus they rode, gazing to be gazed upon and proud to 686be accounted so, Vengeance with a deadly arrow drawn from forth the 687quiver of his wrath, prepared by lightning and shot on by thunder, 688hit and struck dead these proud incestuous creatures where they 689sat, leaving their faces blasted and their bodies such a contemptful 690object on the earth that all those eyes but now with reverence looked 691upon them, all hands that served them, and all knees adored them, scorned 692now to touch them, loathed now to look upon them, and disdained now to 693give them burial.

Nay, such is Heaven's hate to these and such like 694sins, and such his indignation to his present evil, that 'twixt his 695stroke and death he lent not so much mercy to their lives wherein 696they had time to cry out: "Justice, be merciful, for we repent us." 697They thus dead, thus contemned, and, instead of kingly monument for 698their bodies, left to be entombed in the bowels of ravenous fowls, 699if fowls would eat on them, the strangeness of their deaths were 700soon rumored over that part of the world, and as soon brought to the 701ears of Helicanus, who was a careful watchman to have knowledge of 702whatsoever happened in Antioch, and by his knowledge to prevent what 703danger might succeed, either to his prince or to his subjects 704in his absence. Of which tragedy he having notice, presently he 705imparted the news thereof to his grave and familiar friend Lord 706Eschines, and now told him what till now he had concealed, namely 707of their incest together, and that only for the displeasure which 708princely Pericles feared Antiochus bore towards him and might extend 709to his people, by his knowledge thereof he thus long by 709.1his counsel 710had discontinued from his kingdom.

711Now it happened that these tidings arrived to his ears just 712at the instant when his grave counsel could no longer allay the 713headstrong multitude from their uncivil and giddy mutiny. And the 714reason of them (who most commonly are unreasonable in their actions) 715to draw themselves to this faction was that they supposed their 716prince was dead, and that, being dead, the kingdom was left without 717a successful inheritor; that they had been only by Helicanus with 718vain hope of Pericles' return deluded; and that even now, the power 719being, by his death, in their hands, they would create to themselves 720a new sovereign, and Helicanus should be the man.

Many reasons he 721used to persuade them, many arguments to withstand them. Nothing but 722this only prevailed with them: that since he only knew their prince 723was gone to travel, and that that travel was undertaken for their 724good, they would abstain but for three months longer from bestowing 725that dignity which they called their love, though it was his dislike, 726upon him. And if by that time (which they with him should still hope 727for) the gods were not pleased, for their perpetual good, to restore 728unto them their absent prince, he then with all willingness would 729accept of their suffrages. This then (though with much trouble) was 730at last by the whole multitude accepted, and for that time they were 731all pacified, when Helicanus, assembling all the peers unto him, by 732the advice of all chose some from the rest, and after his best 733instructions, or rather by persuasions and grave counsel, given, he 734sent them to inquire of their prince who lately, left at Pentapolis, was 735highly honored by good Symonides.

737How Prince Pericles is married to Thaisa, King Symonides' daughter; 738and how, after he hath heard news of Antiochus' death, he with his wife 739departeth toward his own country of Tyre.

740Prince Pericles, having had (as before is mentioned) his lodging 741directed next adjoining to the king's bed-chamber, whereas all the other 742princes upon their coming to their lodgings betook themselves to their 743pillows and to the nourishment of a quiet sleep, he of the gentlemen 744that attended him (for it is to be noted that, upon the grace that the 745king had bestowed on him, there was of his officers toward him no attendance 746wanting) he desired that he might be left private, only that for his 747instant solace they would pleasure him with some delightful instrument, 748with which, and his former practice, he intended to pass away the 749tediousness of the night, instead of more fitting slumbers.

750His will was presently obeyed in all things, since their master 751had commanded he should be disobeyed in nothing. The instrument is brought 752him, and, as he had formerly wished, the chamber is disfurnished of any 753other company but himself, where presently he began to compel 754such heavenly voices from the senseless workmanship, as if Apollo 755himself had now been fingering on it, and as if the whole synod 756of the gods had placed their deities round about him of purpose 757to have been delighted with his skill and to have given praises 758to the excellency of his art. Nor was this sound only the ravisher 759of all hearts but from his own clear breast he sent such cheerful 760notes, which by him were made up so answerable to the other's sound, 761that they seemed one only consort of music, and had so much delicacy, 762and out of discords making up so excellent a conjunction, that they 763had had power to have drawn back an ear half-way within the grave 764to have listened unto it.

For thus much by our story we are certain of, 765that the good Symonides (being by the height of night and the former 766day's exercise in the ripeness of his contentful sleep) he rejoiced 767to be awakened by it, and not accounting it a disease that troubled him 768in the hearing but a pleasure wherewith he still wished to be delighted. 769In brief, he was so satisfied to hear him thus express his excellence 770that he accounted his court happy to entertain so worthy a guest and 771himself more happy in his acquaintance. But day that hath still that 772sovereignty to draw back the empire of the night, though a while 773she in darkness usurp, brought the morning on, and while the king 774was studying with what answerable present wherewith to gratify this 775noble prince for his last night's music, a gentlewoman, whose service 776was thither commanded by his daughter, brought him a letter, 777whose inside had a suit to him to this purpose.

790Which request of hers, when the king her father had thus 791understood of, he began first to examine with himself what 792virtue was in this choice that should bind her thoughts to this 793liking, and what succeeding comfort he might expect, the expectation 794of which might invite him to his consent.

First he began to 795remember himself that he came unto his court but poor -- "And for 796poverty," quoth the good king, "'tis a workmanship that Nature makes 797up even for others to contemn, and which, in these times, is 798grown odious to keep company withal"--; that to marry her which 799was his only child and the expectation of his subjects with 800one of so low blood and mean descent would return rather a 801dishonor than a dignity to his name, since parents rather expect 802the advancement of titles and the raising of their houses in the 803uniting of their issue than the declining. But in the end, when he 804had put all the interjections he could between her love and his 805liking, his uprightness made him see that in Virtue consisted man's 806only perfection, and in him, as her befitting court, she thought it 807fittest to keep her royal residence. And in that opinion allowing 808of his daughter's choice, he thought himself happy to live father 809to such a virtuous son, and his daughter more happy to be coupled 810to so noble a husband.

And as he was now thus contracting them 811together in his rejoicing thoughts, even in the instant came in 812Pericles to give his grace that salutation which the morning required 813of him, when the king, intending to dissemble that in show which he 814had determined on in heart, he first told him that his daughter 815had that morning sent unto him that letter, wherein she entreated 816of him that his grace would be pleased that himself (whom she 817knew to call by no other name but the stranger, Pericles) might 818become her schoolmaster, of whose rarity in music, excellency 819in song, with comeliness in dancing, not only she had heard, but 820himself had borne testimony to be the best that ever their 821judgements had had cause to judge of.

When Pericles, though willing 822to yield any courtesies to so gracious a lady, and not disdaining 823to be commanded any services by so good a lord, yet replied [that] though 824all his abilities were at his grace's pleasure, yet he thought himself 825unworthy to be his daughter's schoolmaster: "Ay, but," quoth Symonides, 826"she will not be denied to be your scholar; and for manifest proof 827thereof here is her own character, which to that purpose she hath 828sent unto us, and we to that purpose give you leave to read." Which 829Pericles overlooking, and finding the whole tenor thereof to be 830that his daughter from all the other princes -- nay from the whole 831world -- solicited him for her husband, he straightway rather conjectured 832it to be some subtlety of the father to betray his life than any 833constancy of the princess to love him.

And forthwith, prostrating 834himself at the king's feet, he desired that his grace would no way 835seek to stain the nobleness of his mind by any way seeking to 836entrap the life of so harmless a gentleman or that with evil 837he would conclude so much good which he already had begun toward 838him, protesting that, for his part, his thoughts had never that 839ambition so much as to aim at the love of his daughter, nor any 840action of his gave cause of his princely displeasure.

But the king, 841feigning still an angry brow, turned toward him and told him 842that like a traitor, he lied. "Traitor," quoth Pericles?" "Ay, 843traitor," quoth the king, "that thus disguised art stolen into 844my court, with the witchcraft of thy actions to bewitch the 845yielding spirit of my tender child." Which name of traitor being 846again redoubled, Pericles then instead of humbleness seemed 847not to forget his ancient courage, but boldly replied that were 848it any in his court except himself durst call him traitor, even 849in his bosom he would write the lie, affirming that he came into 850his court in search of honor, and not to be a rebel to his state; 851his blood was yet untainted but with the heat got by the wrong 852the king had offered him; and that he boldly durst and did defy 853himself, his subjects, and the proudest danger that either tyranny 854or treason could inflict upon him.

Which nobleness of his the king 855inwardly commending, though otherwise dissembling, he answered he 856should prove it otherwise, since by his daughter's hand, it there 857was evident both his practice and her consent therein. Which 858words were no sooner uttered, but Thaisa (who ever since she 859sent her father her letter could not contain herself in any 860quiet till she heard of his answer) came now in, as it had been 861her part to make answer to her father's last syllable, when 862Prince Pericles, yielding his body toward her, in most courteous 863manner demanded of her, by the hope she had of heaven or the 864desire she had to have her best wishes fulfilled here in the 865world, that she would now satisfy her now-displeased father 866if ever he by motion or by letters, by amorous glances or by 867any means that lovers use to compass their designs, had sought 868to be a friend in the nobleness of her thoughts or a co-partner 869in the worthiness of her love.

When she, as constant to finish 870as she was forward to attempt, again required of him that: "suppose 871he had, who durst take offence thereat, since that it was her 872pleasure to give him to know that he had power to desire no more 873than she had willingness to perform?" "How, minion," quoth her 874father (taking her off at the very word "who dare be displeased 875withal") "Is this a fit match for you? A straggling Theseus born 876we know not where! One that hath neither blood nor merit for thee 877to hope for, or himself to challenge even the least allowance of 878thy perfections." When she, humbling her princely knees before her 879father, besought him to consider that suppose his birth were base 880(when his life showed him not to be so) yet he had virtue, which 881is the very ground of all nobility, enough to make him noble. 882She entreated him to remember that she was in love, the power 883of which love was not to be confined by the power of his will. 884"And my most royal father," quoth she, "what with my pen 885I have in secret written unto you, with my tongue now I openly 886confirm, which is that I have no life but in his love, neither 887any being but in the enjoying of his worth."

"But daughter," quoth 888Symonides, "equals to equals, good to good is joined. This not 889being so, the bavin of your mind, in rashness kindled, must 890again be quenched, or purchase our displeasure. And for you 891sir," speaking to Prince Pericles, "first learn to know: I banish 892you my court -- and yet: scorning that our kingly enragement should 893stoop so low, for that your ambition, sir, I'll have your life." 894"Be constant," quoth Thaisa, "For every drop of blood he sheds 895of yours, he shall draw another from his only child." In brief, 896the king continued still his rage, the lady her constancy, while 897Pericles stood amazed at both.

Till at last the father being no 898longer able to subdue that which he desired as much as she, catching 899them both rashly by the hands, as if he meant straight to have 900enforced them to imprisonment, he clapped them hand in hand, while 901they as lovingly joined lip to lip, and, with tears trickling from 902his aged eyes, adopted him his happy son, and bade them live 903together as man and wife.

What joy there was at this coupling, 904those that are lovers and enjoy their wishes can better conceive 905than my pen can set down: the one rejoicing to be made happy by 906so good and gentle a lord, the other as happy to be enriched by 907so virtuous a lady.

What preparation there was for their marriage 908is sufficiently expressed in this: that she was the only daughter 909to a king, and had her father's liking in her love. What speed there 910was to that marriage, let those judge who have the thoughts of 911Thaisa at this instant. Only conceive the solemnities at the temple 912are done, the feast in most solemn order finished, the day spent 913in music, dancing, singing, and all courtly communication, 914half of the night in masques and other courtly shows, and the 915other half in the happy and lawful embracements of these most 916happy lovers. The discourse at large of the liberal challenges 917made and proclaimed, at tilt, barriers, running at the ring, 918ioco di can, managing fierce horses, running on foot and dancing 919in armors, of the stately presented plays, shows disguised, 920speeches, masques and mummeries, with continual harmony of all 921kinds of music, with banqueting in all delicacy, I leave 922to the consideration of them who have beheld the like in courts 923and at the wedding of princes, rather than afford them to the 924description of my pen.

Only let such conceive all things in 925due order were accomplished, the duties of marriage performed, 926and fair Thaisa this night is conceived with child.

The next 927day, joy dwelling through the whole kingdom for this conjunction, 928every man arose to feasting and jollity, for the wedding triumphs 929continued a whole month, while Time with his feathered wings 930so fanned away the hours and with his slippery feet so 931glided over the days that nine moons had almost changed 932their light ere half the time was thought to be expired; when 933it happened, that as the good Symonides and princely Pericles 934with his fair Thaisa were walking in the garden adjoining to 935their palace, one of the lords, who (as before) were sent by 936grave and careful Helicanus in search of their absent prince, 937came hastily in to them, who upon his knee delivered unto the 938young prince a letter, which being opened the contents therein 939spoke thus unto him: That Antiochus and his daughter (as is 940before described) were with the violence of lightning shot from 941heaven struck suddenly dead. And moreover, that by the 942consent of the general voices, the city of Antioch with 943all the riches therein and the whole kingdom were reserved 944for his possession and princely government.

Which letter when 945he had read, he presently imparted the news thereof to his 946kingly father, who upon view received he straight knew what 947until then the modesty of Pericles had concealed: that his 948son, whom from poverty he advanced to be the bedfellow of 949his daughter, was Prince of Tyre, who for the fear he had of 950Antiochus had forsook his kingdom and now had given unto 951him the kingdom of Antiochus for recompense; that grave 952Helicanus had, not without much labor, appeased the stubborn 953mutiny of the Tyrians, who in his absence would have elected him 954their king; and that to avoid a future insurrection, [and keep] his whole 955state in safety, how necessary it was for him to make a speedy 956return, which gladness Symonides imparted to his daughter, who 957as gladly received them.

While Pericles intending a while to 958leave his dearest dear behind him, considering how dangerous 959it was for her to travel by sea being with child and so near 960her time, he began to entreat of his kingly father of all 961necessary provision for his departure, since the safety of 962two kingdoms did importune so much; when on the other side 963Thaisa falling at her father's feet, her tears speaking in her 964suit faster than her words, she humbly requested that, as his 965reverend age tendered her or the prosperity of the infant 966wherewith she thought herself happy to be emburdened, 967he would not permit her to remain behind him; which 968tears of hers prevailing with the aged king, though compelling 969his tears to take a loth and sorrowful departure of her.

Their 970ships being strongly appointed and fraught with all things 971convenient -- as gold, silver, apparel, bedding, victuals 972and armor -- and, fearing what unfortunately happened, causing 973an aged nurse called Lychorida, a midwife, with other handmaids 974to attend her; they are shipped and he on shore, the one gazing 975after the other with a greedy desire, until the high usurping 976waters took away the sight from them both.

978How fair Thaisa died in travail of childbirth upon the sea, and, being 979thrown for burial in the waters, was cast ashore at Ephesus; and how by the 980excellent labor of Lord Cerimon, a skilful physician, she was restored to her 981life again and by her own request placed to live a votary in the Temple of Diana.

982Prince Pericles, with his queen Thaisa, being thus on 983shipboard, and their mariners merrily having hoisted up their 984sails, their vessels, as proud of such a fraught wherewith they 985were enriched, galloped cheerfully on the ocean. Fortune did now 986seem to look fairly, neither was there promise of any other 987alteration: the day looked lovely and the sea smiled for joy 988to have her bosom pressed with these burdens.

But nothing in 989this world that is permanent; Time is the father of Fortune, he 990is slippery, and then of necessity must his child be fickle, 991and this was his alteration: a cloud seemed to arise from forth 992the south, which, being by the master and mariners beheld, they 993told Prince Pericles that it was messenger of a storm, which 994was no sooner spoken, but, as if the heavens had conspired with the 995waters and the winds been assistant to both, they kept such a 996blustering and such an unruly stir that none could be heard 997to speak but themselves. Seas of waters were received into their 998ships while others fought against them to expel them out. "Stop 999the leakage there!" cries out one. "Hale up the main-bowlines there!" 1000calls out another, and with their confusion, neither understanding 1001other since the storm had got the mastery, they made such a 1002hideous noise that it had had power to have awakened Death and 1003to have affrighted Patience.

Nor could it choose then but bring 1004much terror to our seasick queen, who had been used to better 1005attendance than was now offered her by these ill-tutored servants, 1006Wind and Water; but they who neither respect birth nor blood, 1007prayers nor threats, time nor occasion, continued still their 1008boisterous havoc. With which stir (good lady) her eyes and 1009ears having not till then been acquainted, she is struck into 1010such a hasty fright that welladay she falls in travail, is 1011delivered of a daughter, and in this childbirth dies, while 1012her princely husband being above the hatches, is one while praying 1013to heaven for her safe deliverance, another while suffering for 1014the sorrow wherewith he knew his queen was emburdened. He chid1015the contrary storm, as if it had been sensible of hearing, to 1016be so unmannerly in this unfitting season, and when so good a 1017queen was in labor, to keep such a blustering.

Thus, while the 1018good prince remained reproving the one and pitying the other, 1019up comes Lychorida, the nurse sent along by good Symonides with 1020his daughter, and into his arms delivers his sea-born babe. 1021Which he taking to kiss and pitying it with these words: 1022"Poor inch of Nature," quoth he, "thou art as rudely welcome to 1023the world as ever princess babe was, and hast as chiding a 1024nativity as fire, air, earth, and water can afford thee." 1025When, as if he had forgot himself, he abruptly breaks out: 1026"But say, Lychorida, how doth my queen?" "O sir," quoth she, "she 1027hath now passed all dangers, and hath given up her griefs 1028by ending her life." At which words, no tongue is able to 1029express the tide of sorrow that over-bounded Pericles, 1030first looking on his babe and then crying out for the mother, 1031pitying the one that had lost her bringer ere she had scarce 1032saluted the world, lamenting for himself that had been bereft 1033of so inestimable a jewel by the loss of his wife.

In which 1034sorrow as he would have proceeded, up came the master to him, 1035who, for that the storm continued still in his tempestuous height, 1036brake off his sorrow with these syllables: "Sir, the necessity 1037of the time affords no delay, and we must entreat you to be 1038contented to have the dead body of your queen thrown 1039overboard." "How varlet!" quoth Pericles interrupting him, 1040"wouldst thou have me cast that body into the sea for burial 1041who being in misery received me into favor?" "We must entreat 1042you to temperance, sir," quoth the master, "as you respect your 1043own safety, or the prosperity of that pretty babe in your 1044arms." At the naming of which word, babe, Pericles, looking 1045mournfully upon it, shook his head, and wept. But the master 1046going on, told him, that by long experience they had tried 1047that a ship may not abide to carry a dead carcass nor 1048would the lingering tempest cease while the dead body remained 1049with them.

But the prince, seeking again to persuade them, 1050told them that it was but the fondness of their superstition 1051to think so. "Call it by what you shall please, sir," quoth the 1052master, "but we that by long practice have tried the proof of 1053it, if not with your grant then without your consent (for your 1054own safety which we with all duty tender) must so dispose 1055of it." So, calling for his servants about him, he willed one of 1056them to bring him a chest, which he forthwith caused to be 1057well bitumed and well leaded for her coffin. Then, taking up 1058the body of his (even in death) fair Thaisa, he arrayed her 1059in princely apparel, placing a crown of gold upon her 1060head, with his own hands (not without store of funeral 1061tears) he laid her in that tomb, then placed he also 1062store of gold at her head and great treasure of silver at 1063her feet, and having written this letter which he laid upon 1064her breast, with fresh water flowing in his eyes, as loth to 1065leave her sight, he nailed up the chest, the tenor of which 1066writing was in form as followeth:

1075The chest then being nailed up close, he commanded 1076it to be lifted overboard, and then, naming his child Marina 1077for that she was born upon the sea, he directed his master 1078to alter the course from Tyre, (being a shorter cut to Tharsus) 1079and for whose safety he thither intended, where, with his host 1080Cleon and Dionyza, his wife, he intended to leave his little 1081infant to be fostered and brought up. The dead body being 1082thus thrown overboard, when, as if Fortune had bethought 1083her that she had wrought her utmost spite to him by 1084bereaving him of so great a comfort, even in the instant 1085the tempest ceaseth, where we will leave Prince Pericles 1086upon calm waters, though not with a calm mind, sailing 1087to Tharsus.

And behold, the next morning: by which time 1088the waves had rolled from wave to wave this chest to land 1089and cast it ashore on the coast of Ephesus, in which city 1090lived a lord called Cerimon, who, though of noble blood and 1091great possessions, yet was he so addicted to study and in 1092searching out the excellency of arts, that his felicity 1093consisted in contemplation, wisely foreknowing so icy is 1094the state of riches that it is thawed to nothing by the least 1095adversity, that careless heirs may dispend and riot consume 1096them, when one virtue, and our deserved fame, attendeth 1097immortality. This consideration made him so to apply his 1098time in letters and in searching out the nature of simples 1099that he grew so excellent in the secret of physic as if 1100Apollo himself or another Aesculapius had been his 1101schoolmaster. Nor was he of this plenty a niggard to the 1102needy, but so bountiful to the distressed that his house 1103and hand were accounted the hospitals for the diseased.

This 1104Lord Cerimon had his residence built so near the shore that 1105in his windows he overlooked the sea; and being this morning 1106in conference with some that came to him both for help for 1107themselves and relief for others, and some that were relating 1108the cruelty of the last night's tempest, on a sudden casting 1109his eye from forth his casement towards the main, he might 1110espie the waters as it were playing with the chest wherein 1111the dead queen was encoffined, and which was upon the sudden 1112by a more eager billow cast on his banks.

When presently, 1113thinking it to be the remnant of some shipwreck caused 1114in the last night's storm, calling for his servants, he 1115forthwith commanded them to have it brought up to him as 1116forfeited unto him, being cast on his ground, which accordingly 1117performed, he as presently gave charge it should be opened, 1118when not without much wonder he straightway viewed the dead body 1119of the queen, so crowned, so royally appareled, so 1120entreasured as before. And, taking up the writing which he 1121likewise found placed upon her breast, he read it to the 1122gentlemen who at that time accompanied him, and knowing it 1123thereby to be the dead queen to Prince Pericles: "Now surely," 1124quoth Cerimon, "thou hast a body even drowned with woe for 1125the loss of so goodly a creature. For gentlemen," said he, 1126"as you may perceive, such was the excellency of her beauty 1127that grim Death himself hath not power to suffer any 1128deformity to accompany it."

Then laying his hand gently 1129upon her cheek, he bethought him that life had not lost 1130all the workmanship that Nature had bestowed upon her, 1131for even at the opening of the chest, and as it were she 1132then receiving fresh air, he might perceive a new but calm 1133glowing to respire in her cheeks. With which being somewhat 1134amazed, "Now surely gentlemen," quoth he, turning to them 1135who were greedily set round about him, "this queen hath 1136not long been entranced, and I have read of some Egyptians 1137who, after four hours death (if man may call it so), have 1138raised impoverished bodies, like to this, unto their former 1139health; nor can it be disparagement to me to use my best 1140practice on this queen." To which by the gentlemen that 1141accompanied him he was encouraged to attempt, since that 1142the recovery of her could not but appear to be a work of 1143wonder, and since that his fortune was so successful in 1144his ministering that all Ephesus was replete with his help.

1145So, calling for a servant of his to attend him with certain 1146boxes which he named were in his study, as also with fire 1147and necessary linen, invoking Apollo to be gracious to his 1148empiric and the work in hand, he began to apply to her. 1149First pulling down the clothes from off the lady's bosom, 1150he poured upon her a most precious ointment, and, bestowing 1151it abroad with his hand, perceived some warmth in her breast, 1152and that there was life in the body. Whereat somewhat 1153astonished, he felt her pulses, laid his cheek to her 1154mouth, and, examining all other tokens that he could devise, 1155he perceived how death strove with life within her, and that 1156the conflict was dangerous, and doubtful who should prevail. 1157Which being done, he chafed the body against the fire 1158until the blood which was congealed with cold was wholly 1159dissolved, when, pouring a precious liquor into her mouth, 1160he perceived warmth more and more to increase in her, and 1161the golden fringes of her eyes a little to part.

Then calling 1162softly to the gentlemen who were witnesses about him, he 1163bade them that they should command some still music to 1164sound. "For certainly," quoth he, "I think this queen will 1165live, and suppose that she hath been much abused, for she 1166hath not been long entranced" -- condemning them for rashness 1167so hastily to throw her overboard. And when he had so 1168said, he took the body reverently into his arms and bare 1169it into his own chamber, and laid it upon his bed, groveling 1170upon the breast. Then took he certain hot and comfortable 1171oils, and, warming them upon the coals, he dipped fair wool 1172therein and fomented all the body over therewith until 1173such time as the congealed blood and humors were thoroughly 1174resolved; and the spirits in due form recovered their 1175wonted course, the veins waxed warm, the arteries 1176began to beat and the lungs drew in the fresh air 1177again. And being perfectly come to herself, lifting 1178up those now again priceless diamonds of her eyes, "O 1179Lord," quoth she, "where am I? For it seemeth to me that 1180I have been in a strange country. And where's my lord 1181I pray you? I long to speak with him."

But Cerimon, who 1182best knew that now with anything to discomfort her 1183might breed a relapse which would be unrecoverable, 1184entreated her to be cheered, for her lord was well, and 1185that anon, when the time was more fitting and that her 1186decayed spirits were repaired, he would gladly speak 1187with her. So, as it were being but newly awaked from death 1188to the great amazement of the beholders, she presently fell 1189into a most comfortable slumber, which Lord Cerimon giving 1190charge none should disturb her of, he in the meantime 1191and against she should awake, provided cherishing meats, 1192and, as her strength grew, gave wholesome clothes to refresh 1193her with.

But not long after, weakness being banished 1194from her, and Cerimon by communication knew that she 1195came of the stock of a king, he sent for many of his 1196friends to come unto him and adopted her for his own 1197daughter, and related unto her how after so grievous a 1198tempest in what manner she was found. In which tempest 1199she supposing her kingly husband to be shipwrecked, she 1200with many tears entreated that, since he had given her 1201life, he would be pleased to give her leave to live unknown 1202to any man. To which Cerimon accorded; and for that 1203intent placed her in the Temple of Diana which was 1204there consecrated at Ephesus.

1206How Pericles, arriving at Tharsus, delivereth his 1207young daughter, Marina, unto Cleon and Dionyza to be fostered 1208up; and how Lychorida the nurse, lying upon her death-bed, 1209declareth unto Marina who were her parents.

1210Having thus left the recovered Thaisa amongst the holy 1211nuns in the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, our story biddeth us 1212look back unto sorrowful Pericles, whose ship -- with fortunate 1213wind, favor of the heavens, and providence of his pilot -- arrived 1214at the shore of Tharsus.

Where upon his landing he was courteously 1215received by Cleon and Dionyza, whom he as courteously saluted, telling 1216them the heavy chances which had befallen him, both of the great 1217storms and tempests on the sea which he with patience had endured, 1218as also of the death of the good Lady Thaisa which he not without 1219much sorrow suffered: "Only," quoth he, "I have here left a little 1220picture of her, who, for it was given unto me at sea, I have named 1221Marina; and I thank the heavens is so like unto her that I never 1222do look upon it but with much comfort, in whose protection and 1223education I mean to use your friendship, while I go on in travel 1224to receive the kingdom of Antiochus which is reserved for me. And 1225if you will ever show your gratitude for my former charity extended 1226towards you and all this city in a former distress, the gods have 1227given this cause to prove your thankfulness."

When both vowing by 1228solemn oath their care should be on her as reason unto themselves,1229who is the guider of man's life; he, satisfied with that their promise, 1230thanked them, telling them moreover that with them also he would 1231leave Lychorida, her mother's nurse (and given unto him by her good 1232father, Symonides), that she might be a nurse unto her child, only 1233further requesting them, and so charging Lychorida, that if it pleased 1234the gods to lend her life to the years of understanding, they should 1235not till his return make known unto her that she was a branch 1236sprung from him, but only be brought up as the daughter of Cleon 1237and Dionyza, lest that the knowledge of her high birth should make 1238her grow proud to their instructions.

Of which having likewise promise, 1239he delivered the infant and the nurse to Cleon, and therewithal great 1240sums of gold, silver and apparel, and vowing solemnly by oath to 1241himself, his head should grow unscissored, his beard untrimmed, himself 1242in all uncomely, since he had lost his queen, and till he had married 1243his daughter at ripe years. When they much wondering at so strange a 1244resolve and promising to be most faithful with all diligence according 1245to his directions, Pericles took his leave, departed with his ship, 1246sailing even to the uttermost parts of all Egypt, while his young daughter 1247Marina grew up to more able discretion.

And when she was fully attained to 1248five years of age, being to herself known no other but to be free born, 1249she was set to school with other free children, always jointly accompanied 1250with one only daughter that Dionyza had, being of the same time that 1251she was of.

Where growing up as well in learning as in number of years 1252until she came to the reckoning of fourteen, one day when she returned 1253from school she found Lychorida, her nurse, suddenly fallen sick. And 1254sitting beside her upon the bed, she, as in care of her, demanded the 1255cause and manner of her sickness. When the nurse, finding her disease 1256to have no hope of recovery but a harbinger that came before to prepare 1257a lodging for death, answered her to this purpose: "For my sickness," 1258quoth she, "it matters not, dear child, since it is as necessary to be 1259sick as it is needful to die. Only I entreat of you to hearken unto 1260a dying woman's words that loveth you, and, laying them up in your heart, 1261persuade yourself that in these hours no sinner should or can be so 1262wretched to spare a minute to find time to lie. Know then that you are 1263not the daughter of Cleon and Dionyza, as you till this have supposed. 1264But hearken unto me and I will declare unto thee the beginning of thy 1265birth, that thou mayest know how to guide thyself after my death."

1266"Pericles, the Prince of Tyre, is thy father, and Thaisa, King Symonides' 1267daughter, was thy mother. Which father and mother departed from thy grandsire 1268at Pentapolis toward their kingdom of Tyre. Thy mother, being at sea, fell 1269in travail with thee, and died after thou wert born, when thy father, 1270Pericles, enclosed her body in a chest with princely ornaments, laying 1271twenty talents of gold at her head, and as much at her feet in silver, 1272with a schedule written containing the dignity of her birth and manner 1273of her death. Then caused he the chest to be thrown overboard into the 1274sea through a superstitious opinion which the mariners believed, leaving 1275her body so enriched to the intent that, whithersoever it were driven, 1276they that found it, in regard of the riches, would bury her according to 1277her estate."

"Thus, lady, were you born upon the waters, and your father's 1278ship, with much wrestling of contrary winds and with his unspeakable 1279grief of mind, arrived at this shore and brought thee in thy swaddling 1280clouts unto this city, where he with great care delivered thee unto this 1281thine host, Cleon, and Dionyza his wife, diligently to be fostered up, and 1282left me here also to attend upon thee, swearing this oath to keep 1283inviolate: his hair should be unscissored, his face untrimmed, himself 1284in all things uncomely continually to mourn for your dead mother until 1285your ripe years gave him occasion to marry you to some prince worthy your 1286birth and beauty."

"Wherefore I now admonish you that if after my death 1287thine host or hostess, whom thou callest thy parents, shall haply offer 1288thee any injury or, discourteously taking advantage of thy absent father, 1289as unbefitting thine estate entertain thee, haste thee into the market1290place, where thou shall find a statue erected to thy father standing; 1291take hold of it, and cry aloud: 'You citizens of Tharsus, I am his daughter 1292whose image this is.' Who, being mindful of thy father's benefits, will 1293doubtless revenge thy injury."

When Marina, thanking Lychorida for making 1294that known to her which till then was unknown, and haply either through 1295Time or Death might have been buried in her ignorance, and vowing, if ever 1296need should so require (of which as yet she had no cause to doubt) her 1297counsel should be followed; and so Lychorida, through sickness growing more 1298weak, and Marina for this knowledge and advice still tending on her, in 1299her arms at last she gave up the ghost.

1301How after the death of Lychorida, the nurse, Dionyza, 1302envying at the beauty of Marina, hired a servant of hers to 1303have murdered her; and how she was rescued by certain pirates 1304and by them carried to the city of Meteline, where, among other 1305bondslaves, she was sold to a common bawd.

1306Marina having thus by Lychorida's means had knowledge of her parents, 1307and Lychorida having been in her life her most careful nurse, she (not without 1308just cause) lamented her death and caused her body to be solemnly interred in 1309a field without the walls of the city, raising a monument in remembrance of her, 1310vowing to herself a year's solemn sadness, and that her eyes also for so long a 1311time should daily pay their dewy offerings, as lamenting the loss of so good a friend.

1312But, this decree of hers being accomplished and all the rites thereof 1313faithfully fulfilled, she dismissed her body of her mourning attire and again 1314appareled herself as before in her most costly habiliment, frequenting the 1315schools and diligently endeavoring the studies of the liberal sciences, wherein 1316she so out-went in perfection the labors of all that were studious with her 1317that she was rather used amongst them as their schoolmistress to instruct 1318than their fellow scholar to learn. Only, for her recreation, betwixt the hours 1319of study, dancing, singing, sewing, or what experience soever (for in no action 1320was she unexpert), as also every morning and at noon before she made her meal, 1321she forgot not to revisit her nurse's sepulcher. And entering into the monument, 1322upon her knees she there offered her funeral tears for the loss of her mother, 1323and desiring the gods in their holy synod to protect the safety of her father, 1324accusing herself as an unfortunate child, whose being caused the death of 1325her mother, so good a queen, and the sorrow of her father, so courteous a prince. 1326

And in very deed, the whole course of her life was so affable and courteous that 1327she won the love of all and every man, accounting his tongue (the father of speech) 1328a truant which was not liberal in her praises. So that it fortuned, as she passed 1329along the street with Dionyza her daughter, who was her companion and schoolfellow 1330and who till then she supposed had been her sister, the people, as at other times, 1331came running out of their doors with greedy desire to look upon her. And beholding 1332the beauty and comeliness of Marina so far to outshine Dionyza's daughter, who 1333went side by side with her, could not contain themselves from crying out: "Happy is 1334that father who hath Marina to his daughter, but her companion that goeth with her 1335is foul and ill-favored."

Which when Dionyza heard, her envy of those praises bred 1336in her a contempt, and that contempt soon transformed itself into wrath, all which 1337she for the instant dissembling, yet at her coming home withdrawing herself into 1338a private walk, she in this manner with herself began to discourse: "It is now," 1339quoth she, "fourteen years since Pericles, this outshining girl's father, departed 1340this our city, in all which time we have not received so much as a letter to 1341signify that he remembers her, or any other token to manifest he hath a desire 1342to acknowledge her, whereby I have reason to conjecture that he is either surely 1343dead or not regards her, though I must confess, at his departure from hence 1344and his committing her to our protection, he left her not unfurnished of all things 1345fitting the education of his child, and a princess of her birth, both of gold, 1346plate, and apparel, even competent enough to foster her according to her degree-- 1347nay, if need were, to marry her according to her blood."

"But what of all this? He 1348is absent, and Lychorida, her nurse is dead. She in beauty outshines my child, and 1349I have her father's treasure in possession (though given for her use) [which] shall make my 1350daughter outshine her. What though I know her father did relieve our city? I 1351again do know that but few in these days requite benefits with thanks longer 1352than while they are in receiving. In brief, I envy her, and she shall perish for it."

1353With the which words she had no sooner concluded, but in comes a servant of hers, 1354and she now intended to make him the devil's. With this Leonine she thus began to 1355interpret her will: "Leonine," quoth she, "thou knowest Marina." "And madam," quoth he, 1356"for a most virtuous gentlewoman." "Talk not of virtue," quoth Dionyza, "for that's not 1357the business which we have in hand. But I must have thee learn to know her now, 1358that thou mayest never know her afterward." "I understand you not," quoth Leonine. When 1359she replied, "Take this at large then: thou art my bond-slave, whom I have power to 1360enfranchise or captive. If thou wilt obey me, first then receive this gold as the 1361earnest which promiseth unto thee a greater reward; but if thou deny to accomplish 1362my desire, in bondage and imprisonment I will fetter thee and by no other means 1363conclude my revenge but by thy death."

"Speak on my task then, good madam," quoth 1364Leonine, "For what is it that a bondman will not attempt for liberty, which is dearer 1365to man than life; and what not I then?" "Thou knowest," quoth Dionyza then, "that 1366Marina hath a custom, as soon as she returneth home from school, not to eat 1367meat before she have gone to visit the sepulcher of her nurse. There, at her next 1368devotion, do thou meet her, stand ready, and with thy weapon drawn suddenly 1369kill her."

"How! Kill her?" quoth Leonine, "why 'tis an act unconscionable and deserves 1370damnation but to conspire in thought, since she is a creature so harmless that 1371even innocency itself cannot be more pure, nor inwardly be more decently arrayed 1372than is her mind. Yet, to fulfill your pleasure, for the hope of gold and the 1373releasement of my bondage, were she as spotless as Truth, here are two monsters" 1374(drawing his sword into his hand) "shall effect it for you."

When she rewarding him 1375with more gold and commending his resolution, he goes forward to attend for her 1376at Lychorida's tomb, and Marina, being returned from school, is also come thither 1377to offer on the monument her diurnal devotion, when on the sudden, while her knees 1378kissed the earth and her eyes saluted heaven, while prayers were in her mouth and 1379tears in her eyes, all tributary offerings given unto the gods for the prosperity 1380of her father, on the sudden toward her out rushed this Leonine, and with a look 1381as cruel as his heart and speech as harsh as his intent, he resolved her in blunt 1382words that he was come to kill her, that he was hired unto it by Dionyza, her 1383foster mother, that she was too good for men and therefore he would send her to 1384the gods, that if she would pray, pray, for he had sworn to kill her, and he would 1385kill her and a thousand more ere he would be damned for perjury.

When she, that 1386was on her knees before making her orisons to heaven, was now compelled to turn 1387her entreaties to him; and first demanded of him what offence her ignorance had 1388done (for wittingly she knew she could do none) either to him that (as himself 1389said) came to murder her, or to her that hired him. But the villain neither 1390regarding her innocency or tears though showered in abundance, but drawing 1391out his sword wherewith to have shed her blood and have damned his own soul, 1392there were certain pirates that were newly put to water in at a creek near 1393adjoining where the villain intended this most inhuman murder, and being come 1394up ashore to forage for what pillage soever they could happen upon, even as he 1395was about to have given the fatal blow, whom all her entreaties could not persuade 1396him from, beholding so bloody a villain offering violence to so goodly a beauty, 1397they running all at once toward him cried out aloud: "Hold, monstrous wretch, as thou 1398lovest thy life, hold; for that maiden is our prey and not thy victory."

Which when 1399the villain heard, and perceiving his intent to be intercepted, making his heels 1400his best defence, till, having fled some distance from them and observing them 1401not to pursue, he secretly stole back to note what the event would be; which was 1402that the pirates who had thus rescued Marina carried her to their ships, hoisted 1403sails and departed. At which the villain returned home to his mistress, declaring 1404to her that he had done what she commanded him to do, namely murdered Marina, 1405and from the top of a high cliff thrown her body down for burial into the 1406sea, advising her withal that, since it was done, the chiefest means to avoid 1407suspicion was to put on mourning garments, and, by counterfeiting a great sorrow 1408in the sight of the people, report that she was dead of some dangerous disease, 1409and withal, to blear the eyes of the multitude (who with fair shows are soon 1410flattered), near to her father's statue to erect a monument for her.

According 1411whereunto, she attired herself and her daughter in solemn attire and, 1412counterfeiting a feigned sorrow and dissembling tears and going now to erect 1413her monument (to the view of which all the citizens flocked), she in public 1414assembly thus spoke unto them: "Dear friends and citizens of Tharsus: if you 1415shall haply wonder why we thus unwontedly weep and mourn in your sight, it is 1416because the joy of our eyes and staff of our old age, Marina, is dead, whose 1417absence hath left unto us nothing but salt tears and sorrowful hearts, as if 1418by her death we were divided from all comfort. Yet have we here taken order for 1419her funerals and buried her (as here you see) according to her degree."

Which 1420loss of hers was right grievous to all the people; nor was there any that was 1421capable of sorrow but spent it for her, so that with one voice and willing 1422hands they attended Dionyza to the marketplace whereas her father's image 1423stood made of brass, and erected also another to her with this inscription:

1429So with this flattery (which is like a screen before the gravest 1430judgements) deceiving the citizens, and all done unsuspected, she returned 1431home, when Cleon -- who not at all consented to this treason but so soon as he 1432heard thereof being struck into amazement -- he appareled himself in mourning 1433garments, lamenting the untimely ruin of so goodly a lady, saying to himself, 1434"Alas now, what mischief am I wrapped in? What might I do or say herein? The 1435father of that virgin delivered this city from the peril of death. For this 1436city's sake he suffered shipwreck, lost his goods and endured penury. And 1437now he is requited with evil for good; his daughter, which he committed by my 1438care to be brought up, is now devoured by the cruelty of my wife, so that I 1439am deprived, as it were, of mine own eyes, and forced to bewail the death 1440of that innocent, she in whose presence, as in the fortune of mine own posterity, 1441I should have had delight," and then demanding of Dionyza how she could give 1442Prince Pericles account of his child; having robbed him of his child, how 1443she could appease the fury of his wrath, if her act were known to him, or 1444how allay the displeasure of the gods, from whom nothing can be hid.

"For 1445Pericles," quoth she, "if such a pious innocent as yourself do not reveal 1446it unto him, how should he come to the knowledge thereof, since that the 1447whole city is satisfied by the monument I caused to be erected, and by our 1448dissembling outside, that she died naturally? And for the gods, let them that 1449list be of the mind to think they can make stones speak and raise them up 1450in evidence. For my part I have my wish; I have my safety, and fear no danger 1451till it fall upon me." But Cleon, rather cursing than commending this obduracy 1452in her, he continued mourning unfeignedly; but she according to her sinful 1453condition.

By this time the pirates (who before rescued Marina, when she 1454should have been slain by treacherous Leonine) are now arrived at Meteline; 1455and in the marketplace of the city, according to the custom, amongst 1456other bondslaves offered her to be sold, whither all sorts of people 1457coming to supply their purposes, Marina was not without much commendations 1458gazed upon of the buyers, some commending her beauty, others her sober 1459countenance, all pitying her mishap, and praising her perfections. Which 1460praises of her, were so spread through the city that from all parts they 1461came crowding to see her, amongst the number of which, was a leno or bawd, 1462yet one who had not set up shop and kept trade for himself, but was yet 1463but journeyman to the devil.

This leno, amongst others staring upon her 1464and knowing her face to be a fit fair sign for his master's house -- and 1465with which sign he made no doubt but to lodge under their roof all 1466the intemperate (even from youth to age) through the whole city --, he 1467forthwith demanded the price, intending to buy her at what rate soever, 1468and in the end went through and bargained to have her, paying a hundred 1469sesterces of gold. And so presently, having given earnest, he takes 1470Marina and the rest of the pirates home with him to his master's house. 1471Marina was there to be taught how to give her body up a prostitute to 1472sin, and the pirates for their new stuff to receive their money.

1474How Marina, being thus sold to a bawd, preserved her virginity; 1475and how she converted all that ever came to make hire of her beauty from the 1476looseness of their desires.

1477Marina was no sooner thus concluded for by the he-bawd, 1478but the pirates were as soon brought home to his master's house and 1479received their payment. When after their departure, she giving command 1480to the pander, her man, that he should go back into the marketplace 1481and there with open cry proclaim what a picture of Nature they had at 1482home for every lascivious eye to gaze upon, the she-bawd began to 1483instruct her with what compliment she should entertain her customers.

1484She first asked her if she were a virgin. When Marina replied, she 1485thanked the gods, she never knew what it was to be otherwise. "In so 1486being," quoth the she-bawd, "you have been well; but now in 1487plain terms I must teach you how to be worse." "It is not goodness in you," quoth 1488Marina, "to teach me to be so." "For goodness," answered the bawd, "it is a 1489lecture such as we use seldom, and our consciences never read one 1490to another; and therefore attend unto me: you must now be like a stake 1491for every man to shoot at, you must be like a ford that must receive all waters, 1492you must have the benefit of all nations, and seem to take delight in 1493all men."

"I thank my stars," answered Marina, "I am displeased with none." 1494For by this answer it appeared such was the purity of her mind that 1495she understood not what this devil's solicitor pleaded unto her. But 1496she, quickly taking her off, told in more immodest phrase that she had 1497paid for her, and that she and all her body was hers, that 1498willy-nilly she must now be what she herself had been (and there is seldom any 1499bawd but before time hath been a whore), that to conclude, she had 1500bought her like a beast and she meant to hire her out.

1501When she, understanding unwillingly what all these words tended 1502unto, she fell prostrate at her feet, and, with tears showered down in 1503abundance, she entreated her not to make hire of her body to so 1504diseaseful a use, which she hoped the gods had ordained to a more happy 1505purpose. When the bawd answered her, "Come, come, these drops avail 1506thee not. Thou art now mine and I will make my best of thee. And I 1507must now learn you to know we whom the world calls bawds -- but more 1508properly are to be styled factors for men -- are in this like the hangman: 1509neither to regard prayers nor tears, but our own profit."

So calling 1510for her slave, which was governor over her she-household, this was her 1511appointment unto him: "Go," quoth she, "and take this maiden, as she is 1512thus decked in costly apparel" -- for it is to be remembered that the 1513former pirates had no way despoiled her of her ornaments, with purpose 1514to price her at the higher rate – "and leading her along, this be the cry 1515through the whole city: that whosoever desireth the purchase of so 1516wondrous a beauty shall, for his first enjoying her, pay ten pieces 1517of gold, and that afterward she shall be common unto the people for 1518one piece at a time."

Which will of hers Marina being no way able to 1519resist but with her sorrow, only desiring of the good gods to be 1520protectors of her chastity, she with this her slave was hurried along, 1521and who, with the tenor of his priapine proclamation, had so awaked the 1522intemperance of the whole city that, against her return, of high and 1523low there was a full crowding at the door, every man carrying his money 1524in his hand and thinking him the happiest man that might first have 1525access.

But heaven, who is still a protector of virtue against vice, 1526ordained this for Marina: that the sending her abroad, with purpose 1527first to show her and after to make sale of her to the world, was 1528the only means to defend her in the state of her virginity. For as 1529she was (as before is said) led along, and thousands of people wondering 1530about her and flocking as it had been so many flies to infect so 1531delicate a preservative, it happened that Lysimachus, the chief governor 1532of Meteline, looking out at his window to observe what strange occasion 1533drew the giddy havoc of people to muster themselves into such throngs, 1534he, not without great admiration, observed that it was to make boot of 1535so precious a beauty, whose inflaming colors, which Nature had with her 1536best art placed upon her face, compelled him to censure that she was 1537rather a deserving bed-fellow for a prince than a play-fellow for so 1538rascally an assembly.

So pitying awhile her misfortune, that it was 1539so hard to be thrown into the jaws of two such poisonous and devouring 1540serpents, a pander and a bawd, yet at last, being inflamed with a little 1541sinful concupiscence by the power of her face, he resolved himself 1542that since she must fall, it were far more fitter into his own arms, 1543whose authority could stretch to do her good, than into the hot 1544embracements of many to her utter ruin. So presently dismissing away 1545a servant of his, he gave him charge to give in charge to the bawd 1546that, at the return home of this new piece of merchandise of hers, as 1547she respected -- or in time of need would be beholding to -- his favor 1548(and Heavens forfend but bawds now and then should stand in need of 1549authority), she should keep her private from the conference of any, for 1550he himself that night late in the evening, in secret and in some 1551disguise, would (for her guest's sake) visit her house.

There needed 1552no further encouragement to bid the bawd stir up her damnable limbs 1553to make all fit. It was enough in this that the governor had sent word 1554it was he that was to come. But having given the best garnish she could to 1555her sinful habitation, and Marina being returned home again by the pander, 1556who had led her up and down as bear-herds lead bears, for show first 1557and to be baited after, she took her up with her into a private chamber, 1558when the fruit of her instructions were how she should now learn to 1559behave herself, for she had fortunes coming upon her: she was now to 1560be received, respected, and regarded of a man that was honorable.

"Heaven 1561grant that I may find him so," quoth Marina." "Thou needest not doubt it, 1562sweetheart," quoth the bawd, "for though I tell it thee in private which 1563for a million he would not have to be known publicly, he is no worse a 1564man thou art shortly to deal withal than the governor of this whole 1565city, a gentleman that is courteous, a favorer of our calling, one that 1566will as soon have his hand in his pocket as such a pretty dilling as 1567thou shalt come in his eye, and not, as most of our gentlemen do, draw 1568it out empty but, filling it full of gold, will most Jove-like rain it 1569down into his Danae's lap. In brief, he is a nobleman, and, which is a 1570thing which we respect more than his nobility, he is liberal. He is courteous, 1571and thou mayest command him; he is virtuous, and thou mayest learn of him."

1572"All these indeed," answered Marina, "are properties due unto so worthy a 1573gentleman whom you picture him to be. And if he be liberal in good, I 1574shall be glad to taste of his bounty; if courteous, I shall as willingly 1575become his servant; and if virtuous, it shall be in me no way to make him 1576vicious." "Well, well, well," says the bawd, "we must have no more of this 1577puling, and I must have you learn to know, vice is as hereditary to our 1578house as the old barn to your country beggar."

But as she would have 1579proceeded with more of these her devilish counsels, hastily into the 1580chamber came the pander unto them, who as hot as a toast with his haste 1581to bring the news, he told them that the Lord Lysimachus was come, and, 1582as if the word "come" had been his cue, he entered the chamber with the master 1583bawd, when, the whole fry of sinners curtsying about him very largely as 1584the prologue to his entertainment, distributed gold among them, then as 1585roundly demanded for that same fresh piece of stuff which by their 1586proclamation they told they had now to make sale of and he of set purpose 1587was come to have a sight of.

1588When they all, pointing toward Marina, told him there she was, and 1589"for ourselves," quoth they, "we having done the office of right chamberlains --1590brought you together-- we will shut the door after us, and so leave you." Who 1591no sooner departed, but Lysimachus the governor began to demand of her the 1592performance of that for which he came. When she, prostrating herself at 1593his feet, entreated him to take pity of her, and from point to point (excepting 1594her birth and death of her parents) discoursed unto him the whole story of 1595her misfortunes: as that by the practice of Dionyza and cruelty of Leonine, 1596she should have been murdered, and how it pleased the gods to rescue her 1597from that ruin by certain pirates who after sold her to this brothel, 1598where, most unhappy, he was witness she remained. "Then, gentle sir," quoth 1599she, "since Heaven hath been so gracious to restore me from death, let not 1600their good to me be a means for you to be author of my more misfortune."

1601But the governor, suspecting these tears but to be some new cunning which 1602her matron the bawd had instructed her in to draw him to a more large 1603expense, he as freely told her so, and now began to be more rough with 1604her, urging her that he was the governor, whose authority could wink 1605at those blemishes herself and that sinful house could cast upon 1606her, or his displeasure punish at his own pleasure: "which displeasure of 1607mine thy beauty shall not privilege thee from nor my affection, which 1608hath drawn me unto this place, abate, if thou with further lingering 1609withstand me." By which words she understanding him to be as confident 1610in evil as she was constant in good, she entreated him but to be heard, 1611and thus she began:

1612"If as you say (my lord) you are the governor, let not your authority, 1613which should teach you to rule others, be the means to make you misgovern 1614yourself. If the eminence of your place came unto you by descent and the 1615royalty of your blood, let not your life prove your birth a bastard. If it 1616were thrown upon you by opinion, make good that opinion was the cause to 1617make you great."

"What reason is there in your justice, who hath power over 1618all, to undo any? If you take from me mine honor, you are like him that 1619makes a gap into forbidden ground after whom too many enter, and you are 1620guilty of all their evils. My life is yet unspotted, my chastity unstained 1621in thought. Then if your violence deface this building, the workmanship of 1622heaven made up for good and not to be the exercise of sin's intemperance, 1623you do kill your own honor, abuse your own justice, and impoverish me."

"Why," 1624quoth Lysimachus, "this house, wherein thou livest, is even the receptacle of 1625all men's sins and nurse of wickedness, and how canst thou then be otherwise 1626than naught, that livest in it?" "It is not good," answered Marina, "when you that 1627are the governor, who should live well, the better to be bold to punish evil, 1628do know that there is such a roof, and yet come under it. Is there a necessity 1629(my yet good lord) if there be fire before me, that I must straight then thither 1630fly and burn myself? Or if suppose this house (which too too many feel such 1631houses are) should be the doctor's patrimony, and surgeon's feeding, follows it 1632therefore, that I must needs infect myself to give them maintenance? O my good 1633lord: kill me but not deflower me, punish me how you please so you spare my 1634chastity; and since it is all the dowry that both the gods have given and 1635men have left to me, do not you take it from me. Make me your servant, I will 1636willingly obey you; make me your bondwoman, I will account it freedom; let 1637me be the worst that is called vile, so I may still live honest, I am content. 1638Or if you think it is too blessd a happiness to have me so, let me even now, 1639now in this minute, die, and I'll account my death more happy than my birth."

With 1640which words being spoken upon her knees, while her eyes were the glasses that 1641carried the water of her mishap, the good gentlewoman being moved, he lift her 1642up with his hands, and even then embraced her in his heart, saying aside: "Surely 1643this is virtue's image, or rather virtue's self sent down from heaven a while 1644to reign on earth, to teach us what we should be."

So instead of willing her 1645to dry her eyes, he wiped the wet himself off, and could have found in his 1646heart with modest thoughts to have kissed her but that he feared the offer 1647would offend her. This only he said: "Lady -- for such your virtues are, a 1648far more worthy style your beauty challenges, and no way less your beauty 1649can promise me that you are -- I hither came with thoughts intemperate, foul 1650and deformed, the which your pains so well have laved that they are now 1651white. Continue still to all so. And for my part, who hither came but to 1652have paid the price, a piece of gold, for your virginity, now give you twenty 1653to relieve your honesty. It shall become you still to be even as you are, a 1654piece of goodness, the best wrought up that ever Nature made. And if that 1655any shall enforce you ill, if you but send to me I am your friend." With which 1656promise leaving her presence, she most humbly thanked the gods for the 1657preservation of her chastity and the reformation of his mind.

1658Lysimachus, though departed thus, intended not to leave her so, but with 1659diligent eyes to attend how she behaved herself to all other who should have 1660admittance to her. And for that purpose, having power to command the bawd, he 1661placed himself in the next chamber where he might hear even to a syllable 1662whatsoever passed. Where he was no sooner settled with a former charge given to the 1663bawd that any man should have access to her, but by turns he heard she had 1664also won others and preserved herself from them as she had formerly done 1665against him, gaining ten times as much of profit by her prayers and tears 1666as she should have done by prostituting her beauty to their wills.

At last, 1667all of them being departed and the house unfrequented, --- only of their own 1668household and of the governor --, the bawd standing ready at the door as he 1669should go out, making his obeisance unto him as he should return, in hope 1670of his fee or reward, he with an angry brow turned towards him, saying, 1671"Villain, thou hast a house here the weight of whose sin would sink the 1672foundation even unto hell did not the virtue of one that is lodged therein 1673keep it standing." And so as it were enraged, giving them nothing, he departed. 1674

By which displeasure of his, the whole swarm of bawds (as truly it was) guessed 1675that their new tenant had not been pliant to his will. And all rushing in 1676hastily upon her, first taking away the gold which the charity (and not 1677injury) of all who had been there had given her to relieve her with, they cried 1678against her: they should be all undone by her, their house would grow uncustomed1679and their trading would fall to decay by her squeamishness and want of 1680familiarity to their clients, resolving now that there was no way to 1681bring her unto their bow but by having her ravished. For it is to be noted, not any that parted 1682the house besides Lysimachus, but, even as he did, so they in like manner railed 1683against them, so forcibly had her persuasions prevailed with them.

Whereupon, 1684for that purpose they gave her up to the pander who first agreed for her, saying 1685that he that had bargained for the whole joint, it was fittest for him to cut a 1686morsel from off the spit. So leaving them together, and telling him they gave 1687her up to his power to do even what he would with her, the man and wife (though 1688both bawds) departed, when the pander going to her, told her that he, his 1689master, nor their ancient family would, as thus long they had been, be undone 1690by ere a puritan piece of them all. "And therefore," quoth he, "come on and resolve 1691yourself without more whining, for I am but the bawd's servant. The bawd hath 1692commanded me, and every servant by the indenture of his duty is bound to obey 1693his master."

So catching her rashly by the hand as he would have enforced her to 1694his will, she, first calling on Diana, patroness of chastity to defend her, fell 1695likewise down at his feet and besought him but to hear her. Which being granted, 1696she demanded of him what thing he could wish himself to be which was more vile 1697than he was, or more hateful than he would make himself to be? "Why, my master or 1698my mistress," quoth the villain, "I think, who have all the sins subject to 1699mankind reigning in them, and are indeed as bad as the Devil himself." "Yet," 1700quoth Marina, "thou goest about to be worse than they, and to do an office at 1701their setting on which thy master himself hath more pity than to attempt: to 1702rob me of mine honor which, in spite of them and thee, the gods (who I hope 1703will protect it still) have till this breathing protected; to leprous my chaste 1704thoughts with remembrance of so foul a deed, which thou then shalt have done; 1705to damn thine own soul by undoing of mine."

At which word, the villain being 1706struck into some remorse and standing in a pause, Marina went forward and told 1707him: "If thou wantest gold, there is some for thee" --part of that she had reserved 1708which before was given her, from the bawd's knowledge – "or if thou wantest 1709maintenance, provide me but some residence in an honest house, and I have 1710experience in many things which shall labor for thee: as namely, I am skilful 1711in the seven liberal sciences, well exercised in all studies, and dare approve 1712this -- that my skill in singing and playing on instruments exceeds any in the city. 1713Therefore," quoth she, "as thou before didst proclaim my beauty in the market to the 1714open world, whereby to have made me a common prostitute, so now again proclaim my 1715virtues unto them, and I doubt not but this honorable city will afford scholars 1716sufficient, the instructing of whom will return profit enough, both to repay 1717the master what he paid out for me, provide an honester course for thee than 1718this thou livest in, and give a quiet content unto myself."

"Sooth," quoth the 1719villain, being now moved unto much more compassion of her, "if you have, as you 1720say, these qualities, I will labor with my master and do my best for your 1721release." "If not," answered Marina, "I give thee free leave to bring me back again, 1722and prostitute me to that course which was first pretended for me." In brief, the 1723villain so labored with the bawd his master that though he would not give 1723.1her leave to depart his house, yet in hope of the profit which would come in by 1724her other qualities, she should stay in his house, and none with her former 1725grievances disturb her, and withal charged the pander to set up a bill in the 1726marketplace of her excellency in speaking and in singing.

At the report of 1727which there crowded as many, to the bawd's great profit, to be delighted with her 1728worth as there came before to have made spoil of her virtue; and not any man 1729but gave her money largely and departed contented. Only above the rest the Lord 1730Lysimachus had evermore an especial regard in the preservation of her safety no 1731otherwise than if she had been descended from himself, and rewarded the villain 1732very liberally for the diligent care he had over her.

1734How Pericles, after fourteen years absence, arrived at Tharsus and, not 1735finding his daughter, lamented her supposed death; and how, taking ship again, he 1736was by cross-winds driven to Meteline, where his daughter Marina was; and how, by 1737the means of Prince Lysimachus coming aboard his ship to comfort him, he came 1738to the knowledge of his lost daughter and also of his wife Thaisa.

1739Having thus preserved Marina, our story gives us now leave to return again to 1740Prince Pericles, who after fourteen years' absence arrived at Tharsus and was received 1741into the house of Cleon and Dionyza, with whom he had left his young daughter Marina to 1742be fostered up.

At the news of whose coming, Cleon and Dionyza again appareled 1743themselves in mournful habits, went out to meet him. Who when Pericles beheld in 1744so sad an outside: "My trusty friends, what cause enforceth you to give so sad a welcome 1745to my entertainment?" "O my good lord," answered Dionyza, "would any tongue but ours might be 1746the herald of your mishap. But sorrow's pipes will burst have they not vent, and you of 1747force must know Marina is dead."

Which when Pericles heard, the very word "Death" seemed like 1748an edge that cut his heart; his flesh trembled and his strength failed. Yet in agony a long 1749time standing amazed, with his eyes intentively fixed on the ground, and at length recovering 1750himself and taking breath, he first cast his eyes up to heaven, saying: "O you Gods! 1751extremity of passion doth make me almost ready to accuse you of injustice." And then 1752throwing his eyes greedily upon her. "But woman," quoth he, "If (as thou sayest) my most 1753dear Marina be dead, is the money and the treasure which I also left with you for her 1754perished with her?" When she answered: "Some is, and some yet remaineth. And as for your 1755daughter (my lord) lest you should any way suspect us, we have sufficient witness. For 1756our citizens, being mindful of your benefits bestowed upon them, have erected unto her 1757a monument of brass fast by yours."

And when she had so said, she brought forth such money, 1758jewels, and apparel as it pleased her to say were remaining of Marina's store. Whereupon 1759Pericles, giving credit to this report of her death, he commanded his servants to take up 1760what she had brought and bear them to his ships, while he himself would go visit his 1761daughter's monument. Which when he beheld, and had read the epitaph as before written, his 1762affection brake out into his eyes and he expressed more actual sorrow for the loss of 1763her then inditement can express.

First tumbling himself upon her monument, he then 1764fell into a swoon as if, since he might not leave all his life with her, yet he would 1765leave half at least. From which trance being at the length recovered, he apparels 1766himself in sack-cloth, running hastily unto his ships, desireth the sea to take him 1767into their womb, since neither land nor water was fortunate unto him -- for the one had 1768bereft him of a daughter, the other of a wife. But as befitted them, being most careful 1769of his safety, they used their best persuasions to assuage this tempest of his sorrow. 1770

Presently, as much as might be in such a case, they prevailed, and partly by time, which 1771is a curer of all cares, continually mitigated some part of the grief. When he, perceiving 1772the wind to stand fit for their departure, he hoisted up sails and gave farewell to 1773the shore. Nor had they long sailed in their course, but the wind came about into a 1774contrary quarter, and blew so fiercely that it troubled both sea and ships, the rain fell 1775fiercely from above, and the sea wrought wondrously underneath, so that the tempest being 1776terrible for the time, it was in that extremity thought fittest to strike sail, to let the 1777helm go, and to suffer the ship to drive with the tide whither it would please the gods to 1778direct it.

But as joy evermore succeedeth heaviness, so was this sharp storm occasion of a 1779joyful meeting betwixt this sorrowful father and his lost daughter. For while Prince Pericles' 1780ship is thus governed at random, by fortune it striketh upon the shore of the city, 1781Meteline, where now Marina remained, of whose death he (as before) being fully persuaded, 1782in whose life he had hope his decayed comforts should again have had new growth. And being 1783now again at sea, he vowed to himself never more to have fellowship or conference with 1784any man, charging all his followers, of whom Helicanus was one, that none of them upon the 1785pain of his displeasure (and who is ignorant that the displeasure of kings is as dangerous 1786as death) should dare to speak unto him – no, not so much as they who attended him with meat -- 1787and withal commanded them that they should not ordain for him any more but so small a 1788competence, as might even scarcely maintain nature, accounting now that life which he possessed 1789tedious to him, and wishing death in the most unfriendly languishment.

In which state while he 1790consisted, pining of his body and perplexed in mind, it happened that at one self-same time, 1791Lord Helicanus going from the prince's ship and landing on the shore, the Governor Lysimachus, 1792who (as before is mentioned) tendered Marina, was standing at the haven, and, noting Pericles' ships 1793riding there at anchor, he began with himself to commend the comeliness of the vessels, and 1794applaud the state they upheld in their burdens, and in especially, that of the admiral 1795wherein the prince himself was. Who seeing Helicanus come on shore and his grave and reverent 1796countenance promising him to be a father of experience and worthy of his conference, he in 1797courteous manner saluted him, and demanded of him of whence those ships: "For sir," quoth he, 1798"by their arms and ensigns I perceive they are strangers to our harbors" as also that it would 1799please him to deliver to him who was the owner of them. When Helicanus, as in the whole story, 1800discoursed unto him his misfortunes, as also of his former worth and his present languishment 1801from which he could not be removed, neither by his wisdom nor by the counsel of his friends.

1802When Lysimachus, pitying his ruin, entreated Helicanus that he might speak with him, whereby to 1803try if his persuasions had power prevail with him more than the will of himself or power of his 1804subjects. Which being by Helicanus granted, he forthwith conducted him down where his master 1805lay. Whom when Lysimachus beheld, so attired from the ordinary habit of other men -- as with a 1806long overgrown beard, diffused hair, undecent nails on his fingers, and himself lying upon 1807his couch groveling on his face – he, somewhat astonished at the strangeness thereof, called unto 1808him with a soft voice, "Prince Pericles." Who hearing himself named and thinking it to be some 1809of his men that called upon him contrary to his commandment, he arose up suddenly with a 1810fierce countenance. But seeing him to be a stranger, very comely and honorably attired, he 1811shrunk himself down upon his pillow and held his peace.

When Lysimachus demanded of 1812Helicanus if it were his custom to be so silent to all men, "Sir, it is," quoth he, "and hath 1813continued so for the space of this month. Neither dare any of us his subjects, though we suffer 1814much sorrow for him, by our persuasions seek to alter him." "Now surely," quoth Lysimachus, "though 1815his misfortunes have been great, and by which he hath great cause for this sorrow, it is great 1816pity he should continue thus perverse and obstinate, or so noble a gentleman come to so 1817dishonorable a death." And thereupon bethinking with himself what honorable means he might 1818use to recover him, he suddenly remembering the wisdom that he had known Marina had in persuasion, 1819and having heard since of her excellent skill in music, singing and dancing, he by the consent of 1820Helicanus caused her to be sent for, resolving with himself that if the excellency of her 1821ministry had no power to work on him, all physic was in vain and he from thence would resign 1822him over to his grave.

The messenger speedily is returned, bringing Marina along with him. Whom 1823when Lysimachus beheld, "Marina," quoth he, "let me request of thee thy help and uttermost knowledge 1824in comforting the owner of this ship, which lieth in darkness and will receive no comfort nor 1825come abroad into the light for the sorrow that he conceiveth through the loss of a wife and a 1826daughter. From which if thou recover him and to his former health restore him, I will, as I am 1827a gentleman, give thee in recompense thirty sesterces of gold, and as many of silver, and 1828though the bawd hath bought thee according to the laws of our city, from whom no authority 1829can compel thee, yet for thirty days will I redeem thee."

Which when Marina heard, she went 1830boldly down into the cabin to him, and with a mild voice saluted him, saying: "God save you, 1831sir, and be of good comfort, for an innocent virgin whose life hath been distressed by shipwreck 1832and her chastity by dishonesty and hath yet been preserved from both, thus courteously saluteth 1833thee." But perceiving him to yield her no answer, she began to record in verses, and therewithal 1834to sing so sweetly that Pericles, notwithstanding his great sorrow, wondered at her, at last 1835taking up another instrument, unto his ears she preferred this:

1856With this music of Marina's, as with no delight else was he a whit altered, but 1857lay groveling on his face, only casting an eye upon her as he were rather discontented 1858than delighted with her endeavor. Whereupon she began with moral precepts to reprove him, 1859and told him that he was born a prince, whose dignity being to govern others it was most 1860foul in him to misgovern himself, which while he continued in that sullen estate, he did; no 1861less, thus to mourn for the loss of a wife and child or at any of his own misfortunes, 1862approved that he was an enemy to the authority of the heavens, whose power was to dispose of 1863him and his at their pleasure. And that it was as unfit for him to repine (for his continuing 1864sorrow showed he did no less) against their determinations and their unaltered wills as it 1865was for the giants to make war against the gods, who were confounded in their enterprise.

"Not 1866fit to sorrow?" quoth he, rising up like a cloud that bespeaks thunder, "Presumptuous beauty 1867in a child, how darest thou urge so much?" And therewithal, in this rash distemperature, struck 1868her on the face. When she, who never until that time knew what blows were, fell suddenly in a 1869swoon, but being again recovered, she cried out: "O humility -- ordained especially for princes 1870who, having power over all, should contemn none -- whither art thou fled?" Then weeping a while: "And 1871O you Gods! creators both of heaven and earth, look upon my afflictions and take compassion 1872upon me that am unfortunate in all things. I have been tossed from wrong to injury, I was born 1873amongst the waves and troublesome tempests of the sea, my mother died in pains and pangs of 1874childbirth and burial was denied her on the earth, whom my father adorned with jewels, laid 1875gold at her head, and silver at her feet, and, enclosing her in a chest, committed her to the 1876sea. As for me, unfortunate wretch, my father, who with princely furniture put me in trust to 1877Cleon and Dionyza, who commanded a servant of theirs to murder me, from whose cruelty by pirates 1878I was rescued, brought by them to this city, and sold to have been hackneyed by a common bawd, 1879though (I thank the heavens) I have preserved my chastity. And now after all these crosses, for 1880my courtesies to be struck thus to bleeding! O cruel fate!"

By which tale of hers, Pericles being 1881moved, since by all the circumstances he guessed she was his child, and yet not knowing whether 1882he might believe himself to be awake or in a dream, he began again to capitulate with her 1883of her former relation, as namely, where she was born, who were her parents, and what her name 1884was. To the which she answered, "My name is Marina, and so called because I was born upon the sea." 1885"O my Marina!" cried out Pericles, being struck into such an ecstasy of joy that he was not able 1886to contain himself, willing her again to discourse unto him the story of her misfortunes, for 1887he could not hear too much. Which she obeying him in, and he knowing her to be his child, 1888seeing that the supposed dead was risen again, he falls on her neck and kisses her, calls 1889upon Helicanus to come unto him, shows him his daughter, bids him to kneel to her, thanketh 1890Lysimachus that so fortunately had brought her to beget life in the father who begot her.

So, 1891one while weeping, at others joying, and his senses being mastered by a gentle conqueror, in that 1892extremity of passion he fell into a slumber, in which sweet sleep of his he was by Diana 1893warned to hie to Ephesus, and there upon the altar of that goddess to offer up his sacrifice 1894before the priests, and there to discourse the whole progress of his life. Which he remembering 1895being awake, he accordingly shipped himself, with Lysimachus, Marina, and his own subjects, to 1896perform.

Who, landing at Ephesus and giving notice of the purpose for which he was come, he 1897was by all the priests and votaries attended to the temple. Being brought to the altar, this 1898was the substance of his sacrifice: "I, Pericles, born Prince of Tyre, who having in youth attained 1899to all kind of knowledge, resolved the riddle of Antiochus, to the intent to have married his 1900daughter, whom he most shamefully defiled. To preserve myself from whose anger, I fled to sea, 1901suffered shipwreck, was courteously entertained by good Symonides, King of Pentapolis, and after 1902espoused his fair daughter Thaisa." At the naming of whom, she herself, being by, could not 1903choose but start: for in this Temple was she placed to be a nun by Lord Cerimon, who preserved 1904her life. But Pericles going on: "When, Antiochus and his daughter," quoth he, "were by lightning struck 1905dead from heaven, I conducted my queen with me from her father's court with purpose to receive 1906again my kingdom. Where, upon the sea, she was delivered of this my daughter. In that travail 1907she died, whom I enclosed in a chest and threw it into the sea."

When Thaisa, standing by and no 1908longer being able to temper her affections, being assured he was her lord, she ran hastily 1909unto him, embraced him in her arms, and would have kissed him. Which when Pericles saw, he 1910was moved with disdain and thrust her from him, accusing her for lightness, whose modesty and 1911good grace he at his first entrance did commend. When she, falling at his feet and pouring 1912forth her tears abundantly, gladness compelled her to cry out: "O my Lord Pericles, deal 1913not ungently with me. I am your wife, daughter unto Symonides. My name is Thaisa. You were my 1914schoolmaster and instructed me in music. You are that prince whom I loved, not for 1915concupiscence but desire of wisdom. I am she which was delivered and died at the sea, and 1916by your own hands was buried in the deeps."

Which words of hers, Lord Cerimon standing by, 1917he was ready to aver, but it needed not. For Pericles, though at the first astonished, joy 1918had now so revived his spirits that he knew her to be herself. But throwing his head into 1919her bosom, having nothing but this to utter, he cried aloud, "O you heavens! my misfortunes 1920were now again blessings, since we are again contracted." So giving his daughter to her 1921arms to embrace her as a child and Lysimachus to enfold her as a wife, and giving order the 1922solemnity of marriage should straight be provided for, he then caused the bawd to be burnt, who 1923with so much labor had sought to violate her princely chastity, whilst Marina rewarded the 1924pander who had been so faithful to her.

And then, after he had seen her marriage with Lysimachus, 1925he leaveth Ephesus and intends for Tyre, taking Pentapolis in his way, where by the death of 1926good Symonides, as lawful heir he was made sovereign. He also highly rewarded the poor 1927fishermen who had relieved him. From thence he arrived at Tharsus, where he revenged himself 1928of Cleon and Dionyza by stoning them to death. From thence to Tyre, where peaceably he was 1929received into his kingdom and given also possession of all the twenty territories of Antiochus. 1930Where, by his wife, though in the declining of both their years, it pleased the gods to bless 1931him with a son, who growing to the lusty strength of youth and the father declining to his 1932grave, age being no longer able to be sustained by the benefit of nature, fell into certain 1933cold and dry diseases. In which case, the knowledge of his physicians could stand him in 1934little stead, either by their cunning or experience.

So as no remedy being to be found against 1935death, being in perfect memory he departed this life in the arms of his beloved Thaisa and 1936in the midst of his friends, nobles, allies and children, in great honor. His kingdom of 1937Tyrus he gave by will to Lysimachus and his daughter Marina, and to their heirs after them 1938forever, who lived long together and had much comfort by their issue. Unto his queen Thaisa 1939he gave the two kingdoms of Antioch and Pentapolis for term of her life, and at her death 1940to descend to her young son, Symonides. But Thaisa, who could not then be young since Pericles 1941died old, continued not long in her widow's estate, but, pining much with sorrow and wearing 1942with age, forsook the present world, leaving her two kingdoms (according to his father's will) 1943to her young son, Symonides.

1944FINIS