0.2To the Right Worshipfull and most woorthy 0.3Gentleman Maister Henry Fermor, one of his 0.4Maiesties Justices of Peace for the 0.5Countie of Middlesex, health and eternall happinesse.

0.6Right woorthy Sir, Opinion, that in these 0.7daies wil make wise men fooles, and the most 0.8fooles (with a little helpe of their 0.9owne arrogancie) seeme wise, hath made me 0.10euer feare to throw my selfe vpon the racke 0.11of Censure, the which euerie man in this latter 0.12Age doth, who is so ouer hardie to put his 0.13witte in print. I see Sir, that a good coate with 0.14rich trappings gets a gay Asse entraunce in 0.15at a great Gate (and within 'a may stalke freely) 0.16when a ragged philosopher with more witte shall 0.17be shutte foorth of doores: notwithstanding this 0.18I know Sir, that Vertue wants no bases to vpholde her, 0.19but her owne kinne. In which certaine assuraunce, 0.20and knowing that your woorthie Selfe, are of that 0.21neere alliaunce to the noble house of Goodnesse, 0.22that you growe out of one stalke, a poore infant of 0.23my braine comes naked vnto you, without other clothing 0.24than my loue, and craues your hospitalitie. If you 0.25take this to refuge, her father dooth promise, that 0.26with more labored houres he can inheighten your 0.27Name and Memorie, and therein shall appeere he will 0.28not die ingratefull. Yet thus much hee dares say, 0.29in the behalfe of this, somewhat it containeth that 0.30may inuite the choicest eie to reade, nothing heere 0.31is sure may breede displeasure to anie. So leauing 0.32your spare houres to the recreation thereof, and my 0.33boldnesse now submitting it selfe to your censure, 0.34not willing to make a great waie 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 founder of Antioch, 3the most famous Citty in all Syria, hauing one onelie daughter, 4in the prime and glory of her youth, fell in most vnnaturall 5loue with her; and what by the power of his perswasions, and 6feare of his tyranny, he so preuailed with her yeelding heart, 7that he became maister of his desires; which to continue to himself, 8his 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 vnfold the meaning of his questions, for 11that attempt should loose his life. Fearelesse of this Lawe, many Princes 12aduentured, and in their rashnesse perished: amongst the number PERICLES 13the Prince of Tyre, and neighbour to this tyrant King Antiochus, was the 14last who vndertooke to resolue this Riddle, which he accordingly, through 15his great wisedome, performed: and finding both the subtiltie and sinne of 16the Tyrant, for his owne safetie fled secretly from Antioch backe to Tyre, 17and there acquainted Helycanus a graue Counsellour of his with the 18proceedings, as also with his present feare what might succeed, from 19whose counsell he tooke aduise, for a space to leaue his kingdome, 20and betake himselfe to trauell; to which yeelding, Pericles puts to sea, 21ariues at Tharsus, which he finds (thorow the dearth of corne) in much 22distresse: he there relieues Cleon and Dyonysa with their distressed City, 23with the prouision which he brought of purpose; but by his good Counsellour 24Helycanus hearing newes of Antiochus death, he intends for Tyre, puts againe 25to Sea, suffers shipwracke, his shippes and men all lost, till (as it were) 26Fortune tyred with his mis-happes, he is throwne vpon the shoare, releeued 27by certaine poore Fishermen, and by an Armour of his which they by chaunce 28dragged vp in their nettes, his misfortunes being a little repaired, Pericles 29arriues at the Court of good Symonides King of Pentapolis, where through his 30noblenesse both in Armes and Arts, he winnes the loue of faire Thaysa the 31kings daughter, and by her fathers consent marries her.

32In this absence of his, and, for which absence the Tyrians his subiects 33muteny, would elect Helycanus (whome Pericles ordained his substitute in his 34absence) their King, which passion of theirs Helycanus by his graue perswasions 35subdewed, and wonne them to goe in quest of their lost Prince Pericles: In this 36search he is found, and with his wife Thaysa, who is now with childe, and Lycorida 37her Nurse; hauing taken leaue of his kingly Father, puts againe for Tyre, but with 38the terrour of a tempest at Sea, his Queene falles in trauell, is deliuered of a 39daughter, whome hee names Marina, in which childe-birth his Queene dies, she is 40throwne ouerboorde, at departure of whome Pericles altereth his course from 41Tyre, being a shorter cut, to his hoste Clean in Tharsus; hee there leaues his 42yoong daughter to be fostered vp, vowing to himselfe a solitary and pensiue life 43for the losse of his Queene.

44Thaysa thus supposed dead, and in the seas buried, is the next morning on 45the shore taken vp at Ephesus by Cerimon a most skilfull Physition, who by his 46Arte practised vpon this Queene, so preuailed, that after fiue houres intraunced, 47she is by his skill brought to able health againe, and by her owne request, by 48him placed to liue a Votary in Dianaes Temple at Ephesus. Marina Pericles 49sea-borne daughter, is by this growen to discreete yeares, she is enuied of 50Dyonysa Cleons wife, her foster mother, for that Marinaes perfection exceedeth 51a daughter of hers, Marina by this enuy of hers should haue beene murthered, 52but being rescued by certaine Pyrates, is as it were reserued to a greater 53mishap, for by them she is carried to Metelyne, sold to the deuils broker a 54bawd, to haue bin trained vp in that infection, shee is courted of many, and 55how wonderfully she preserues her chastitie.

56Pericles returnes from Tyre toward Tharsus, to visite the hospitable 57Cleon, Dyonysa, and his yoong daughter Marina, where by Dyonysaes dissembling 58teares, and a Toombe that was erected for her, Pericles is brought to beleeue, 59that his Marina lies there buryed, and that shee died of her naturall death, 60for whose losse hee teares his haire, throwes off his garments, forsweares the 61societie of men, or any other comfort. In which passion for many moneths 62continuing, hee at last arriues at Metelyne, when being scene and pittied by 63Lysimachus the Gouernour, his daughter (though of him vnknowen so) is by the 64Gouernour sent for, who by her excellent skill in Song, and pleasantnesse in 65discourse, with relating the story of her owne mishap, shee so winnes againe 66her fathers lost sences, that hee knowes her for his childe, shee him for her 67father; in which ouerioy, as if his sences were nowe all confounded, Pericles 68falles asleepe, where in a dreame he is by Diana warned to goe to Ephesus, and 69there to make his sacrifice. Pericles obayes, and there comes to the knowledge 70of Thaysa his wife, with their seuerall loyes that they three so strangely 71diuided, are as strangely mette. Lysimachus the Gouernour marrieth Marina, 72and Pericles leauing his mourning, causeth the bawde to be burned. Of his 73reuenge to Clean and Dyonysa, his rewarding of the Fishermen that releeued 74him, his iustice toward the Pyrats that made sale of his daughter, his returne 75backe to his kingdome, and of him and his wifes deaths. Onely intreating the 76Reader to receiue this Historie in the same maner as it was vnder the habite 77of ancient Gower the famous English Poet, by the Kings Maiesties Players 78excellently presented.

79The names of the Personages mentioned in this Historie.

80Iohn Gower the Presenter.

81Antiochus built Antioch

82His daughter.

83Pericles Prince of Tyre.

84Thalyart a villaine.

85Helycanus

86Eschines Twoo graue Counsellors.

87Cleon Gouernor of Tharsus.

88Dyonysa his wife.

89Two or three Fishermen.

90Symonides king of Pentapolis

91Thaysa his daughter.

92Fiue Princes.

93Lycorida a Nurse.

94Cerimon a Phisition.

95Marina Pericles daughter.

96A Murtherer.

97Pirates.

98A Bawde.

99A Lena.

100A Pander.

101Lysimachus Gouernour of Meteline.

102Diana Goddesse of chastitie

103The Painfull Aduentures of Pericles Prince of Tyre.

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 resolue his question, placing their heades vpon 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 cruell in tyranny, 110as hee was powerfull in possessions, seeking more to enrich himselfe by shewes, 111than to renown his name by vertue, caused to be built the goodly Cittie of 112Antioch in Syria, and called it after his owne name, as the chiefest seate 113of all his Dominions, and principall place of his abode. This Antiochus had 114increase by his Queene one onely daughter, so excellent in beauty, as if Nature 115and all Perfection had long studied to seeme onely absolute at her birth. 116This Ladie growing to like ripenesse of age, as shee had full endowment of 117outward ornaments, was resorted vnto by many youthfull Princes, who desired 118her in marriage, offering to make her Ioynture as noble in possessions, as 119shee by beauty was royall in her selfe. While the King her father euermore 120requiring deliberation vpon whome rather than other to bestow this his so 121inestimable a lewell, he beganne sodainely to have an vnlawfull concupiscence 122to growe in himselfe, which hee augmented with an outragious flame of cruelty 123sparkling in his hart, and accompted her so worthy in the world, that shee was 124too worthy for any, but himselfe. Thus being wrapped with this vnnaturall loue, 125he sustained such a conflict in his thoughts, wherein Madnesse puts Modesty to 126flight, giuing ouer his affections to the vnlawfulnesse of his will, rather then 127subdued them with the remembraunce of the euill hee had then in practise, so 128that not long after comming into his daughters Chamber, and commaunding all 129that were neere at her attendance to depart, as if he had had some carefull 130and fatherly busines, the necessitie of whose import desired some priuate 131conference with her, he beganne to make motion of that vniust love to her, 132which euen Lust it selfe, had it not in a father beene so brased with 133impudencie, would haue blusht but euen to haue thought vpon. Much perswasion, 134though to little reason, he vsed, as, that he was her father, whome shee was 135bound to obey, he was a King that had power to commaund, he was in loue, and 136his loue was resistlesse, and if resistlesse, therefore pittilesse, either to 137youth, blood, or beauty: In briefe, he was a tyrant and would execute his will. 138These wordes thus vttered with that vehement passion which such sinnefull Louers 139fitte themselues vnto in such desires, and such immodest sillables were by him 140contracted together, that my penne grubbes to recite them, and made the schoole 141of his daughters thoughts, (wherein were neuer taught such euills) to wonder 142at the strangenesse, as vnderstanding them not, and at last, to demaund of her 143vnkingly father, what hee meant by this, when he forgetting the feare of 144heauen, loue to his childe, or reputation amongst men; though by her withstoode 145with prayers and teares, (while the power of weaknesse could withstand) 146throwing away all regard of his owne honesty, hee vnloosed the knotte of her 147virginitie, and so left this weeping braunch to wyther by the stocke that 148brought her foorth; so fast came the wet from the sentinells of her ransackt 149cittie, that it is improper to say they dropped and rayned downe teares, but 150rather, that with great flouds they powred out water. It is beyond imagination 151to thinke whether her eyes had power to receiue her sorrowes brine so fast as 152her heart did send it to them. In briefe, they were nowe no more to be called 153eyes, for griefes water had blinded them: and for wordes, she had not one to 154vtter,for betwixt her hearts intent, and tongues vtterance, there lay such a 155pile of lamentable cogitations, that she had no leisure to make vp any of 156them into wordes, till at the last, a Nurse that attended her comming in, 157and finding her face blubbered with teares, which shee knew were strange 158guests to the table of her beauty, first standing in amaze thereat, at 159last, by the care shee had in charge of her, being more inheartned; Deare 160childe and Madam (quoth shee) why sit you so sorrowfully? which question, 161getting way betwixt griefe and her vtteraunce, Oh my beloued Nurse, answered 162the Lady, euen 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 164vnderstanding not, shee intreated her to be more plaine, that by knowing 165the cause of her griefe, shee might vse meanes to redresse it, or else, that 166her selfe in her owne wisdome would alay the violence of that tempest which 167did wrong to so goodly a building. But shee loath to be the bellowes of her 168owne shame, and blushing more to rehearse than her Father was to commit, sate 169sighing, and continued silent, vntill Antiochus, not satisfied with the fruite 170obtained by his former desire, returned, and like/him that by stealth hath 171filched a taste from foorth a goodly Orchard, is not therewith contented, but 172eyther waiteth his opportunity to steale, till hee be glutted with his stealth, 173or so aduenturous, that hee is taken, to his euerlasting shame; so this 174Antiochus comming backe into the Chamber, and finding his daughter as full 175of wette, as winter is, commaunded the absence of the Nurse (which shee 176accordingly obeying) he beganne to perswade her, that actions past are not 177to be redeemed, that whats in secret done, is no sinne, since the concealement 178excuses it, that euills are no euills, if not thought vpon, and that himselfe 179her Father had that power to gag all mouthes from speaking, if it were knowen. 180Besides her state, his greatnes, his kingdome, her beauty, were ornaments 181enow to draw the greatest Princes to ioyne with her in marriage, and hee 182would further it. So with these and such like perswasions preuayling with 183his daughter, they long continued in these foule and vniust imbracements, 184till at last, the custome of sinne made it accompted no sinne. And while 185this wicked Father shewed the countenaunce of a louing sire abroade in the 186eyes of his subiects, notwithstanding at home he reioyceth to haue played 187the parte of a husband with his owne childe, with false resemblaunce of 188marriage: and to the intent he might alwayes enioy her, he inuented a strange 189pollicie, to compell away all suters from desiring her in marriage, by 190propounding strange questions, the effect and true meaning whereof was thus 191published in writing, Whoso attempteth and resolueth me of my Question, shall 192have my Daughter to wife: But whoso attempteth and faileth, shall loose his head.

193Which will of his, when Fame had blowne abroade, and that by this his 194Lawe there was found a possibilitie for the obtayning of this Lady, such was the 195singular report of her surpassing beautie, that many Princes, and men of great 196Nobilitie, to that purpose repaired thither, who not beeing able to explane his 197Riddle propounded, lost/their heades, which to the terrifying of others that 198should attempt the like, were placed for open view on the toppe of his 199Castle gate.

201How Pericles arriuing at Antioch, resolued the Kings Question: And 202how Thalyart Antiochus Steward was sent to murther him.

203Whilest Antiochus continued thus exercising his tyranies on the 204liues of seuerall princes, Pericles the Prince of Tyre, wonne with the 205wonderfull report of this Ladies beauty, was (as other Princes before) 206drawne to the vndertaking of this desparate aduenture; and approching neere 207Antioch, where there were no sooner newes that he was comming, but there was 208as great a preparation for the receiuing of him, the Lords and Peeres in their 209richest ornaments to intertaine him, the people with their greedy and 210vnsatisfied eyes to gaze vpon him; for in that part of the world there was 211in those dayes no Prince so noble in Armes, or excellent in Artes, and had so 212generall and deserued a report by fame as Pericles Prince of Tyre. Which drew 213both Peere and People, with a ioyfull and free desire to allow him their 214imbracements, and to wish him happy successe, requiring no other but such a 215happy Soueraigne to hope in: for so cunningly had Antiochus dealt in this 216incest with his daughter, that it was yet vnsuspected of the neerest that 217attended him. With which solemnity and suffrages, being brought into the 218presence of the tyrant, and by him demaunded the cause of his arriuall at 219Antioch: and being by the Prince answered, that it was in loue to his daughter, 220and in hope to enioy her by resoluing of his question. Antiochus then first 221beganne to perswade him from the enterprise, and to discourage him from his 222proceedings, by shewing him the frightfull heads of the former Princes, placed 223vpon his Castle wall, and like to whome he must expect himselfe to be, if 224like them (as it was most like) hee failed in his attempt. But Pericles armed 225with these noble armours, Faithfulnesse and Courage, and making himselfe fitte 226for Death, if Death prooued fitte for him, replyed, That he was come now to 227meete Death willingly, if so were his misfortune, or to be made euer fortunate, 228by enioying so glorious a beauty as was inthrond in his princely daughter, and 229was there now placed before him: which the tyrant receiuing with an angry brow, 230threw downe the Riddle, bidding him, since perswasions could not alter him, to 231reade and die, being in himselfe confident the mysterie thereof was not to be 232vnfolded: which the Prince taking vp, read aloude, the purpose of which was 233in these wordes:

234I am no viper, yet I feede

235On mothers flesh, that did me breede;

236I sought a husband, in which labour

237I found that kindnesse from a father:

238Hee's Father, Sonne, and Husband milde,

239I Mother, Wife, and yet his Childe:

240How this may be, and yet in two,

241As you will liue, resolue it you.

242Which secret, whilest Prince Pericles was reading, Antiochus 243daughter, whether it were, that shee now lothed that vnnecessary custome 244in which shee had so long continued, or that her owne affection taught her 245to be in loue with his perfections, our storie leaues vnmentioned: but this 246for certaine, all the time that the Prince was studying with what trueth to 247vnfolde this darke Enigma, Desire flew in a robe of glowing blushes into her 248cheekes, and loue inforced her to deliuer thus much from hir owne tongue, 249that he was sole soueraigne of all her wishes, and he the gentleman 250(of all her eies had euer yet behelde) to whome shee wished a thriuing 251happinesse. By which time the Prince hauing fully considered vpon what he 252had read, and found the meaning, both of the secret, and their abhominable 253sinnes, Antiochus rising vp, 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 tyrants euills, as the Flie to sport 256with the Candles flame, rather seemed to dissemble what he knew, than to 257discouer his insight to Antiochus knowledge, yet so circumspectly, that 258Antiochus suspected, or at least, his owne knowen guilt made him so suspect, 259that hee had found the meaning of his foule desire, and their more foule 260actions; and seeming (as it were) then to pitty him whom now in soule he 261hated, and that he rather required his future happinesse, than any blemish 262to his present fortunes, he tolde him, that for the honour of his name, 263the noblenesse of his woorth, nay his owne deere and present loue to him 264(were it not against the dignity and state of his owne loue) in his tender 265and princely disposition, he could from the whole world select him as a 266choice husband for his daughter, since hee found him so farre wide from 267reuealing of the secret; yet thus farre hee should perceiue his loue should 268extend towardes him, which before time had not beene seene to stretch it 269selfe to any of those decaied princes, of whose falls, his eies were carefull 270witnesses, that for forty dayes he gaue him onely longer respite, if by which 271time (and with all the indeuours, counsell and aduise hee could vse) he can 272finde out what was yet concealed from him, it should be euident how gladly he 273would reioyce to ioy in such a sonne, rather than haue cause of sorrow by his 274vntimely ruine: And in the meane time, in his owne Court, by the royaltie of 275his entertainment hee should perceiue his welcom. With which, and other such 276like gratulations their presences being diuided, Antiochus betooke himselfe 277to his Chamber, and princely Pericles to diligent consultations of his present 278estate, where when hee had a while considered with himselfe, that what he had 279found, was true, and this substantially was the true meaning of his Riddle, 280hee was become both father, sonne, and husband by his vncomely and abhorred 281actions with his owne child, and shee a deuourer of her mothers flesh, by the 282vnlawfull couplings with her owne father, and the defiling of her mothers bed, 283and that this curtesie of Antiochus toward him, was but his hypocrisie, to 284haue his sinne concealed, till he found fit occasion to take fit reuenge 285(by the instruments of tyrants,) poyson, treason, or by any meanes, he resolued 286himselfe with all expedition, (the next darknesse being his best conductor,) to 287flie backe to Tyre, which he effecting, and Antiochus being now priuate in his 288lodging, and ruminating with himselfe, that Pericles had found out the secret 289of his euill, which hee 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 heauen did, so at the knowledge thereof all good men would contemne him. 292And in this study, not knowing how otherwise to helpe himselfe from this 293reproofe, he hastily calleth for one Thalyart, who was Steward of his housholde, 294and in many things before had receiued the imbracement of his minde; this 295Thalyart, (as Pericles fore-thought,) hee presently bribde with gold, and 296furthered with poyson, to be this harmles gentlemans executioner. To which 297purpose, as hee was about to receiue his othe, there came hastily a Messenger 298that brought him newes, the Tyrian shippes were that night departed his harbor, 299and that by intelligence hee had learned the Prince also was fled for Tyre: 300at whose escape Antiochus storming, but not desisting from his former practise, 301hee commaunded his murthering minister Thalyart, to dispatch his best performance 302after him, sometime perswading him, at others threatning him, in Tyre to see 303him, in Tyre to kil him, or back to Antioch neuer to returne, which villainous 304mind of his as ready to yeeld, as the tyrant was to commaund. Thaliart in all 305secresie is shipt from Antioch, while Pericles in this interim is arriued at 306Tyre, where, knowing what was past, and fearing what might succeed, not to 307himself, but for the care he had of his subjects, remembring his power, too 308weake if occasion were offred, to contend with the greatnes of Antiochus: he 309was so troubled in mind, that no aduise of counsell could perswade him, no 310delights of the eye content him, neither any pleasure whatsoeuer comfort him, 311but still taking to heart, that should Antiochus make warre vpon him, as 312fearing lest he should speake his shame which he intended not to reueale, his 313misfortune should be the ruine of his harmlesse people.

314In this sorrowe consisting, one Helycanus a graue and wise Counsellor 315of his (as a good Prince is euer knowne by his prudent Counsell) as much 316greeued in mind for his Princes distemperature, as his Prince was troubled 317with the feare of his subiects mishap, came hastily into the chamber to him, 318and finding him so distasting mirth, that he abandoned all familiar society, 319he boldely beganne to reprooue him, and not sparingly tolde him, he did not 320wel so to abuse himselfe, to waste his body there with pyning sorrow, vpon 321whose safety depended the liues and prosperity of a whole kingdome, that it 322was ill in him to doe it, and no lesse in his counsell to suffer him, without 323contradicting it. At which, although the Prince bent his brow stearnely 324against him, he left not to go forward, but plainly tolde him, it was as fit 325for him being a Prince to heare of his owne errour, as it was lawfull for his 326authority to commaund, that while he liued so shut vp, so vnseene, so carelesse 327of his gouernment, order might be disorder for all him, and what detriment 328soeuer his subiects should receiue by this his neglect, it were iniustice to 329be required at his hands, which chiding of this good olde Lord, the gentle 330Prince curteously receiuing, tooke him into his armes, thankt him that he 331was no flatterer, and commaunding him to seat himselfe by him, he from poynt 332to poynt related to him all the occurrents past, and that his present sorrow 333was for the feare he had of Antiochus tyranny, his present studies were for 334the good of his subiects, his present care was for the continuing safety of 335his kingdome, of which himselfe was a member, which for slacknesse chide him: 336which vprightnes of this Prince calling teares into the olde mans eies, and 337compelling his knees to the earth, he humbly asked his pardon, confirming 338that what he had spoke, sprung from the power of his dutie, and grew not 339from the nature of disobedience. When Pericles no longer suffring such honored 340aged knees to stoope to his youth, lifting him vp, desired of him that his 341counsell now would teach him how to auoide that danger, which his feare gaue 342him cause to mistrust: which in this manner was by the good Helicanus aduised, 343and by princely Pericles yeelded vnto. That he should forthwith betake 344himselfe to trauel, keeping his intent whither, as priuate from his subiects, 345as his iourney was suddaine, that vpon his trust he should leaue the gouernment, 346grounding which counsel vpon this principle, Absence abates that edge that 347Presence whets. In breefe, Pericles knew Helicanus trusty, and consented: 348so with store of corne and all necessaries fit for a kingly voyage, he in 349secret hath shipt himselfe from Tyre. Helycanus is protector of the kingdome 350in his absence: and our Story now hath brought vs to the landing of Thaliart, 351with a body fraught as full of treason against Pericles, as his maister 352Antiochus was of tyranny, who no sooner a shore, but he had his eares fild 353with the generall lamentation of the Tyrian people, the aged sighed, the youth 354wept, all mourned, helping one another how to make vp sorrow to the highest 355heape, as if with the absence of their Prince they had lost their Prince, and 356with his losse they had present feeling of a succeeding ouerthrow, which the 357vilaine vnderstanding, and finding himselfe, both bereft of his purpose, and 358his maister of his intent, he, as traitors do, stole backe to Antioch resoluing 359Antiochus of what he knew: by which time, the clamors of the multitude being 360for a time pacified by the wisedome of Helicanus, and the peace of the common 361wealth by his prudence defended, our princely Pericles with spread sailes, 362faire winds, and full successe, is now arriued at Tharsus.

364How Pericles arriuing at Tharsus releeued the Cittie, almost 365famished for want of foode, and how Helycanus sent him word of what had 366happened at Tyre, with his departure from Tharsus.

367Prince Pericles by the aduise of his good Counsellor Helicanus, 368hauing left Tyre, and intended his whole course for Tharsus, of which City 369lord Cleon was gouernor, who at this instance with Dyonysa his wife, were 370relating the present miseries wherein themselues and their Citty 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 excell in 373pompe, and bore a state, whom all hir neighbors enuied for her greatnes, to 374whom strangers resorted, as to the schoole of variety, where they might best 375enrich their vnderstandings with experience, whose houses were like so many 376Courts for Kings, rather than sleeping places for subiects, whose people were 377curious in their diet, rich in attire, enuious in lookes, where was plenty 378in aboundance, pride in fulnesse, nothing in scarcenesse, but Charitie and 379Loue, the dignitie of whose pallats the whole riches of Nature could hardly 380satisfie, the ornaments of whose attire Art it selfe with all inuention could 381not content, are now so altered, that in steade of dowlny beds, they make their 382pillowes on boords, in stead of full furnished tables, hunger calles now out 383for so much bread, as may but satisfie life: sacke-cloth is now their wearing 384instead of silke, teares instead of inticing glaunces, are now the acquaintance 385of their eyes, in briefe, riot hath heere lost all her dominion, and now is no 386excesse, but whats in sorrow, heere standes one weeping, and there lies another 387dying, so sharpe are hungers teeth, and so rauenous the deuouring mouth of 388famine, that all pittie is exiled betweene the husband and the wife, nay all 389tendernesse betweene the mother and the children, faintesse hath now got that 390emperie ouer strength, there is none so whole to releeue the sicke, neither 391haue the liuing sufficiencie to giue buriall to the dead. Thus while this 392Cleon Lord Gouernour of Tharsus, and Dyonysa his Lady, with interchanging 393wordes were describing the sorrows which their almost vnpeopled Citty felt, 394who from the height of multiplication were substracted, almost to nothing: 395(for, what is life, if it want sustenaunce?) a fainting messenger came slowely 396into them, his fearefull lookes described that he brought sorrowe, and in 397slowe wordes hee deliuered this, that vpon their coastes there was discouered 398a fleete of shippes making thitherward, which Cleon supposing to be an army, 399which some neighbour nation (taking aduantage of their present mishap) had 400sent for their vtter ouerthrowe, hee commaunded the bringer, vpon their 401landing, to this purpose to salute their Generall, That Tharsus was subdewed 402before their comming, and that it was small conquest to subdew where there was 403no abilitie to resist, that they desired but this, that their citty might still 404stand, and that for the riches which their prosperitie had purchased, they 405freely resigned to them, they though their enemies, (for humanities sake) 406in the place of breeding, would affoord them buriall. Pericles by this 407is landed, and no sooner entred into their vnshut gates, but his princely 408eies were partaking witnesses of their widowed desolation. The messenger 409by this also hath deliuered the pleasure of the Gouernour, which the Prince 410weeping to attend, who rather came to releeue than to ransacke, he demaunded 411of the fellow, where the Gouernour was, and foorthwith to be conducted to 412him, which being effected, in the market place they mette, where Pericles 413without further hinderance deliuered to him, that his thoughts were deceued, 414to suppose them for enimies, who were now come to them for comfortable friends, 415and those his shippes which their fears might cause them to think were 416fraughted with their destruction, were intreasured with corne for their 417reliefe: at which the feeble soules not hauling strength enough to giue 418a showte for ioy, gazing on him, and heauen, fell on their knees, and wept. 419But Pericles going to the place of Judgement, causing all the liuing to be 420assembled thither, thus freely deliuered to them: You Cittizens of Tharsus, 421whom penury of victuall pincheth at this present, Know you, that I 422Pericles Prince of Tyre am come purposely to releeue you, in respect of 423which benefit I doubt not but you will be thus thankefull as to conceale 424my arriuing heere, and for a while to giue me safe harborage, and hospitalitie 425for my shippes and men, since by the tyranny of Antiochus, though not driuen, 426yet for a while I am desirous to leaue mine owne Countrey, and continue my 427residence heere with you, in recompence of which loue, I haue brought with 428me a hundred thousand bushells of wheate, which equally for your releefe 429shall be distributed amongst you, each man paying for euery bushell eight 430peeces of brasse, the price bestowed thereon in my owne Country. At which, 431as if the verie name of bread only had power to renew strength in them, they 432gaue a great showt, offering their Citty to him as his owne, and their 433repaired strength in his defence: with which corne their necessities being 434supplied, and euery man willingly paying his eight peeces of brasse, as hee 435had appoynted, Pericles demaunded for the Gouernour and the chiefe men 436of the gouernement, disdaining to bee a Merchant to sell corne, but out of 437his princely magnificence, bestowed the whole reuenew thereof to the 438beautifying of their Citty. Which when the Cittizens vnderstoode, to 439gratifie these large benefites, and to acknowledge him their patron and 440releeuer sent them by the gods, they erected in the Market place a monument 441in the memoriall of him, and made his statue of brasse, standing in a 442Charriot, holding corne in his right hand, and spurning it with his left 443foote, and on the bases of the pillar whereon it stoode, was ingrauen in 444great Letters this inscription: Pericles Prince of Tyre gaue a gift vnto the 445City of Tharsus, whereby he deliuered it from cruell death. So a while we 446desire the Reader to leaue Pericles heartning vp the decayed Cittizens 447of Tharsus, and turne their eyes to good Helycanus at Tyre.

448Good Helycanus as prouident at home, as his Prince was prosperous 449abroade, let no occasion slip wherein hee might send word to Tharsus of what 450occurrents soeuer had happened in his absence, the chiefe of which was, 451that Thalyart by Antiochus was sent, with purpose to murther him, and that 452Antiochus, though fayling in his practise by his absence, seemed not yet 453to desist from like intents, but that he againe, suborned such like 454Instruments to the like treason, aduising him withall for his more 455certaine safetie, for a while to leaue Tharsus, as a refuge too neere 456the reach of the tyrant. To which Pericles consenting, hee takes his leaue 457of his hoste Cleon and Dyonysa, and the Cittizens as sory to leaue him, as 458sorrow can bee for the lacke of comfort.

460How Pericles puts foorth to Sea, suffers shipwrecke, is relieued by 461certaine poore Fishermen, at last arriues at Simonides Court, king of Pentapolis, 462where in feates of Armes hee exceedeth all the Princes that came to honor the 463birth day of his faire daughter Thaysa, and with purpose also to sue to hir 464for marriage.

465Prince Pericles hauing thus releeued Tharsus, and bin warnd (for 466the auoydance of a greater danger) by his good Counsellour Helycanus to 467forsake the Citie, though not without much sorrow of the Cittizens for his 468departure, he is once againe at sea, seeking a new refuge, and accounting 469any countrey his best Inne, where he found the best safety. No sooner were 470his woodden castles floating on the vnconstant deepes: but as if Neptune 471himselfe, chiefe soueraigne of that watery empire, would haue come in person 472to haue giuen calme gratulations, and friendly welcomes to this curteous 473prince, the whole nation of the flouds were at quiet, there were no windes 474blustering, no surges rising, no raines showring, no tempest storming, but 475all calmenesse was vppon the face of this kingdome, only a troupe of cheerfull 476Dolphins, as Ambassadours, sent from their kingly Maister, came dauncing on 477the waters, for the entertaining of him. At which, his ioyfull Marriners 478being scarce from sight of land, with pleasant notes spread forth their 479comely sailes, and with their brasen keeles, cut an easie passage on the 480greene medowes of the flouds. At last, Fortune hauing brought him heere, 481where she might make him the fittest Tennis-ball for her sport: euen as 482sodainely as thought this was the alteration, the Heauens beganne to thunder, 483and the skies shone with flashes of fire: day now had no other shew but 484only name, for darkenes was on the whole face of the waters, hills of seas 485were about him, one sometimes tossing him euen to the face of heauen, while 486another sought to sincke him to the roofe of hell, some cryed, others 487laboured, hee onely prayed: at last, two rauenous billowes meeting, the 488one, with intent to stoppe vp all clamour, and the other, to wash away all 489labour, his vessells no longer able to wrestle with the tempest, were all 490split. In briefe, he was shipwrackt, his good friends and subiectes all 491were lost, nothing left to helpe him but distresse, and nothing to complaine 492vnto but his misery. O calamity! there might you haue heard the windes 493whistling, the raine dashing, the sea roaring, the cables cracking, the 494tacklings breaking, the ship tearing, the men miserably crying out to 495saue their liues: there might you haue seene the sea searching the ship, 496the boordes fleeting, the goodes swimming, the treasure sincking, and the 497poore soules shifting to saue themselues, but all in vaine, for partly by 498the violence of the tempest, and partely thorow that dismall darkenesse, 499which vnfortunately was come vpon them, they were all drowned, gentle 500Pericles only excepted, till (as it were Fortune being tyred with this 501mishap) by the helpe of a plancke, which in this distresse hee got holde 502on, hee was, with much labour, and more feare, driuen on the shore of 503Pentapolis, where a while complaining him of his mishaps, and accusing 504the Gods of this iniury doone to his innocencie, not knowing on what shoare, 505whether friend or foe he had, being certayne Fishermen, who had also suffered 506in the former tempest, and had beene witnesses of his vntimely shipwracke: 507(the day being cleered againe) were come out from their homely cottages 508to dry and repaire their nettes, who being busied about their work, and 509no whit regarding his lamentation, passed away their labour with discourse 510to this purpose, in comparing the Sea to Brokers and Usurers, who seeme faire, 511and looke louely till they haue got men into their clutches, when one 512tumbles them, and an other tosses them, but seldome leauing vntill they 513haue suncke them. Againe comparing our rich men to Whales, that make a 514great shew in the worlde, rowling and tumbling vp and downe, but are 515good for little, but to sincke others: that the fishes liue in the sea, 516as the powerfull on shoare, the great ones eate vp the little ones: with 517which morall obseruations driuing out their labor, and prince Pericles, 518wondring that from the finny subiects of the sea these poore countrey people 519learned the infirmities of men, more than mans obduracy and dulnes could 520learne one of another: at length ouercharged with cold which the extreamity 521of water had pressed him with, and no longer being able to endure, he was 522compelled to demaund their simple helpe, offering to their eares the mishap 523of his shipwracke, which hee was no sooner about to relate, but they 524remembred their eies, not without much sorrow, to haue bin the witnesses 525thereof: and beholding the comely feature of this Gentleman, the chiefe 526of these Fishermen was mooued with compassion toward him, and lifting him 527vp from the ground, himselfe with the helpe of his men, led him to his 528house, where with such fare as they presently had, or they could readily 529prouide, they with a hearty welcome feasted him, and the more to expresse 530their tendernesse to his misfortune, the master dishabited himselfe of his 531outward apparell to warme and cherish him, which curtesy Pericles as 532curteously receiuing, vowing, if euer his fortunes came to their ancient 533height, their curtesies should not die vnrecompensed, and being somewhat 534repayred in heart by their releefe, he demaunded of the country on the 535which he was driuen, of the name of the King, and of the manner of the 536gouernement. When the maister Fisherman commaunding his seruants to goe 537dragge vp some other nettes, which yet were abroade, he seated himselfe 538by him, and of the question he demaunded to this purpose, resolued him; 539Our countrey heere on the which you are driuen 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 poore Fisherman, 542who so gouernes his kingdome with iustice and vprightnesse, that he is no 543readier to commaund, than we his subiects are willing to obey. He is a 544happy King, quoth Pericles, since he gaines the name of Good by his 545gouernement, and then demaunded how farre his Court was distant from 546that place: wherein he was resolued, some halfe a dayes iourney, and from 547point to point also informed, that the King had a princely daughter named 548Thaysa, in whome was Beauty so ioyned with Vertue, that it was as yet 549vnresolued which of them deserued the greater comparison: and in memory 550of whose birth day, her father yeerely celebrated feasts and triumphes, 551in the honour of which, many Princes and Knights from farre and remote 552Countries came, partly to approoue their chiualry, but especially (being 553her fathers only child,) in hope to gaine her loue: which name of Chiualry 554to approoue, that all the violence of the water had not power to quench 555the noblenesse of his minde. Pericles sighing to himselfe he broke out 556thus: Were but my fortunes aunswerable to my desires some should feele 557that I would be one there. When as if all the gods had giuen a plaudite 558to his wordes, the Fishermen, who before were sent out by their Maister 559to dragge out the other nettes, hauing found somwhat in the botome too 560ponderous for their strength to pull vp, they beganne to lewre and hallow 561to their Maister for more helpe, crying that there was a fish hung in their 562net, like a poore mans case in the Lawe, it would hardly come out, but 563Industry being a preuayling workeman, before helpe came, vp came the 564Fish expected, but prooued indeede to be a rusty armour. At the name of 565which word Armour, Pericles being rowzed, he desired of the poore Fishermen, 566that he who better than they, was acquainted with such furniture, might 567haue the view of it. In briefe, what hee could aske of them, was granted: 568the Armour is by Pericles viewed, and knowne to be a defence which his 569father at his last will gaue him in charge to keepe, that it might prooue 570to be a defender of the sonne, which he had knowne to be a preseruer of 571the father: so accompting all his other losses nothing, since he had that 572agayne, whereby his father could not challenge him of disobedience: and 573thanking Fortune, that after all her crosses, shee had yet giuen him 574somewhat to repayre his fortunes, begging this Armour of the Fishermen, 575and telling them, that with it hee would shew the vertue hee had learned 576in Armes, and trie his chiualry for their Princesse Thaysa, which they 577applauding, and one furnishing him with an old gowne to make Caparisons 578for his horse, which horse hee prouided with a lewel, whom all the raptures 579of the sea could not bereaue from his arme, and other furnishing him with 580the long sideskirtes of their cassockes, to make him bases, his Armour 581rusted: and thus disgracefully habilited, Prince Pericles with their 582conduct is gone to the court of Symonides, where the Fishermen had foretolde 583him was all the preparation, that eyther Art or Industrie might attaine 584vnto, to solemnize the birth day of faire Thaysa the good King Symonides 585daughter. This is the day, this Symonides Court, where the King himselfe, 586with the Princesse his daughter, haue placed themselues in a Gallery, to 587beholde the triumphes of seuerall Princes, who in honour of the Princes 588birth day, but more in hope to haue her loue, came purposely thither, to 589approoue their chiualrie. They thus seated, and Prince Pericles, as well 590as his owne prouiding, and the Fishermens care could furnish him, likewise 591came to the court. In this maner also seuerall princes (their horses richly 592caparasoned, but themselues more richly armed, their Pages before them 593bearing their Deuices on their shields) entred then the Tilting place. 594The first a prince of Macedon, and the Deuice hee bore vpon his shield, 595was a blacke Ethiope reaching at the Sunne, the word, Lux tua vita mihi: 596which being by the knights Page deliuered to the Lady, and from her 597presented to the King her father, hee made playne to her the meaning of 598each imprese: and for this first, it was, that the Macedonian Prince 599loued her so well hee helde his life of her. The second, a Prince of 600Corinth, and the Deuice hee bare vpon his shield was a wreathe of Chiualry, 601the word, Me pompae prouexet apex, the desire of renowne drew him to this 602enterprise. The third of Antioch, and his Deuice was an armed Knight, 603being conquered by a Lady, the word, Pue per dolcera qui per sforsa: 604more by lenitie than by force. The fourth of Sparta, and the Deuice he 605bare was a mans arme enuironed with a cloude, holding out golde thats 606by the touchstone tride, the word, Sic spectanda fides, so faith is to 607be looked into. The fift of Athens, and his Deuice was a flaming Torch 608turned downeward, the word, Qui me alit me extinguit, that which giues 609me life giues me death. The sixt and last was Pericles Prince of Tyre, 610who hauing neither Page to deliuer his shield, nor shield to deliuer, 611making his Deuice according to his fortunes, which was a withered Braunch 612being onely greene at the top, which prooued the abating of his body, 613decayed not the noblenesse of his minde, his word, In hac spe viuo, 614In that hope I liue. Himselfe with a most gracefull curtesie presented 615it vnto her, which shee as curteously receiued, whilest the Peeres attending 616on the King forbare not to scoffe, both at his presence, and the present 617hee brought, being himselfe in a rusty Armour, the Caparison of his horse 618of plaine country russet, and his owne Bases but the skirtes of a poore 619Fishermans coate, which the King mildely reproouing them for, hee tolde 620them, that as Vertue was not to be approoued by wordes, but by actions, 621so the outward habite was the least table of the inward minde, and 622counselling them not to condemne 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, of a life flourishing. 625To be short, both of Court and Commons, the praises of none were spoken 626of, but of the meane Knights (for by any other name he was yet vnknowne 627to any.) But the Triumphes being ended, Pericles as chiefe, (for in this 628dayes honour hee was Champion) with all the other Princes, were by the 629Kings Marshall conducted into the Presence, where Symonides and his 630daughter Thaysa, with a most stately banquet stayed to giue them a 631thankefull intertainment. At whose entraunce, the Lady first saluting 632Pericles, gaue him a wreathe of Chiualry, welcommed him as her knight 633and guest, and crowned him King of that dayes noble enterprise. In the 634end, all being seated by the Marshall at a table, placed directly 635ouer-against where the king and his daughter sate as it were by some 636diuine operation, both King and daughter, at one instant were so strucke 637in loue with the noblenesse of his woorth, that they could not spare so 638much time to satisfie themselues with the delicacie of their viands, for 639talking of his prayses: while Pericles on the other side obseruing the 640dignity wherein the King sate, that so many Princes came to honour him, 641so many Peeres stoode ready to attend him, hee was strucke with present 642sorrow, by remembring the losse of his owne. Which the good Symonides 643taking note of, and accusing himselfe before there was cause, that 644Pericles spirites were dumpt into their melancholy, through some dislike 645of so the slackenesse hee found in his entertainement, or neglect of his 646woorth, calling for a boule of wine, hee dranke to him, and so much 647further honoured him, that he made his daughter rise from her seate to 648beare it to him, and withall, willing her to demaund of him his name, 649Countrey, and fortunes, a message (gentle Lady) shee was as ready to 650obey vnto, as her Father was to commaund, reioycing that shee had any 651occasion offered her whereby shee might speake vnto him. Pericles by 652this time hath pledged the King, and by his daughter (according to his 653request) thus returneth what hee is, that hee was a Gentleman of Tyre, 654his name Pericles, his education beene in Artes and Armes, who looking 655for aduentures in the world, was by the rough and vnconstant Seas, most 656vnfortunately bereft both of shippes and men, and after shipwrecke, 657throwen vpon that shoare. Which mis-haps of his the king vnderstanding of, 658hee was strucke with present pitty to him, and rising from his state, 659he came foorthwith and imbraced him, bade him be cheered, and tolde him, 660that whatsoeuer misfortune had impayred him of, Fortune, by his helpe, 661could repayre to him, for both himselfe and Countrey should be his 662friendes, and presently calling for a goodly milke white Steede, and 663a payre of golden spurres, them first hee bestowed vppon him, telling him, 664they were the prises due to his merite, and ordained for that dayes 665enterprise: which kingly curtesie Pericles as thankefully accepting. 666Much time beeing spent in dauncing and other reuells, the night beeing 667growne olde, the King commaunded the Knights shoulde be conducted to 668their lodgings, giuing order, that Pericles Chamber should be next his 669owne, where wee will leaue them to take quiet rest, and returne backe to Tyre.

671How Helicanus heard newes of Antiochus and his daughters deaths, 672and of his sending of other Lords in search of their Prince Pericles.

673Antiochus, who as before is discoursed, hauing committed with his 674owne daughter so foule a sinne, shamed not in the same foulenesse to remaine 675in it with her, neither had shee that touch of grace, by repentaunce to 676constraine him to abstinence, or by perswasion to deny hiscontinuance: 677long, like those miserable serpents did their greatnesse flourish, who 678vse fairest shewes for fowlest euills, till one day himselfe seated with 679her in a Charriot, made of the purest golde, attended by his peeres, and 680gased on by his people, both apparrelled all in Iewells, to out face 681suspition, and beget wonder (as if that glorious outsides were a wall 682could keepe heauens eye from knowing our intents) in great magnificence 683rode they through Antioch: But see the Justice of the Highest, though 684sinne flatter, and man perseuere, yet surely Heauen at length dooth 685punish. For as thus they rode, gazing to be gazed vpon, and prowd to 686be accompted so, Vengeance with a deadly arrow drawne from foorth the 687quiuer of his wrath, prepared by lightning, and shot on by thunder, 688hitte, and strucke dead these prowd incestuous creatures where they 689sate, leauing their faces blasted, and their bodies such a contemptfull 690obiect on the earth, that all those eyes, but now with reuerence looked 691vpon them, all hands that serued them, and all knees adored them, scorned 692now to touch them, loathd now to looke vpon them, and disdained now to 693giue them buriall. Nay, such is heauens hate to these and such like 694sinnes, and such his indignation to his present euill, that twixt his 695stroke and death, hee lent not so much mercy to their liues, wherein 696they had time to crie out; Iustice, be mercifull, for we repent vs. 697They thus dead, thus contemned, and insteede of kingly monument for 698their bodies left, to be intoombed in the bowelles of rauenous fowles, 699if fowles would eate on them. The strangenesse of their deaths were 700soone rumored ouer that part of the world, and as soone brought to the 701eares of Helycanus, who was a carefull watchman to haue knowledge of 702whatsoeuer hapned in Antioch, and by his knowledge to preuent what 703daunger might succeede, eyther to his Prince, or to his subiectes 704in his absence, of which tragedy he hauing notice, presently he 705imparted the news thereof to his graue and familiar friend Lord 706Eschines, and now told him what till now hee had concealed, namely 707of their incest together, and that onely for the displeasure which 708princely Pericles feared Antiochus bore towardes him, and might extend 709to his people, by his knowledge thereof hee thus long by his counsell 710had discontinued from his kingdome.

711Now it hapned that these tydings arriued to his eares, iust 712at the instant, when his graue counsell could no longer alay the 713head-strong multitude from their vnciuil and giddy muteny: and the 714reason of them (who most commonly are vnreasonable in their actions) 715to drawe themselues to this faction, was, that they supposed their 716prince was dead, and that being dead, the kingdome was left without 717a successefull inheritor, that they had bin onelie by Helicanis with 718vaine hope of Pericles returne, deluded, and that euen now the power 719being, by his death, in their hands, they would create to themselues 720a new soueraigne, and Helycanus should be the man. Many reasons hee 721vsed to perswade them, many Arguments to withstand them: nothing but 722this onely preuailed with them, that since he only knew their Prince 723was gone to trauell, and that, that trauell was vndertaken for their 724good, they would abstainebut for three months longer from bestowing 725that dignity which they calld their loue, though it was his dislike 726vpon him, and if by that time (which they with him should still hope 727for) the gods were not pleased for their perpetuall good to restore 728vnto them their absent Prince, hee then with all willingnesse 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 peeres vnto him, by 732the aduise of all, chose some from the rest, and after his best 733instructions, or rather by perswasions and graue counsell giuen, hee 734sent them to inquire of their Prince, who lately left at Pentapolis was 735highly honoured by good Symonides.

737How Prince Pericles is married to Thaysa king Symonides daughter, 738and how after he hath heard newes of Antiochus death, hee with his wife 739departeth toward his owne Country of Tyre.

740Prince Pericles hauing had (as before is mentioned) his lodging 741directed next adioyning to the kings bed-chamber, whereas all the other 742Princes vppon their comming to their lodgings betooke themselues to their 743pillowes, and to the nourishment of a quiet sleepe, he of the Gentlemen 744that attended him, (for it is to be noted, that vpon the grace that the 745king had bestowed on him, there was of his Officers toward him no attendance 746wanting) hee desired that hee might be left priuate, onely that for his 747instant solace they would pleasure him with some delightfull Instrument, 748with which, and his former practise hee intended to passe away the 749tediousnesse of the night insteade of more fitting slumbers.

750His wil was presently obeyed in all things since their master 751had commaunded he should be disobeyed in nothing: the Instrument is brought 752him, and as hee had formerly wished,the Chamber is disfurnished of any 753other company but himselfe, where presently hee beganne to compell 754such heauenly voyces from the sencelesse workemanship, as if Apollo 755himselfe had now beene fingering on it, and as if the whole Sinode 756of the gods, had placed their deities round about him of purpose, 757to haue beene delighted with his skill, and to haue giuen prayses 758to the excellencie of his art, nor was this sound only the rauisher 759of al hearers, but from his owne cleere breast hee sent such cheerefull 760notes, which by him were made vp so answerable to the others sound, 761that they seemed one onely consort of musike, and had so much delicacie, 762and out of discordes making vp so excellent a coniunction, that they 763had had power to haue drawne backe an eare, halfe way within the graue 764to haue listned vnto it, for thus much by our story we are certaine of, 765that the good Symonides (being by the height of night, and the former 766dayes exercise, in the ripenesse of his contentfull sleepe) hee reioyced 767to be awakend by it, and not accompting it a disease that troubled him 768in the hearing, but a pleasure wherewith hee still wished to be delighted. 769In briefe, hee was so satisfied to heare him thus expresse his excellence, 770that hee accompted his Court happy to entertaine so worthy a guest, and 771himselfe more happy in his acquaintance. But day that hath still that 772soueraigntie to drawe backe the empire of the night, though a while 773shee in darkenesse vsurpe, brought the morning on, and while the king 774was studying with what aunswerable present, wherewith to gratifie this 775noble Prince for his last nights musicke, a Gentlewoman (whose seruice 776was thither commaunded by his Daughter) brought him a letter, 777whose in-side had a sute to him to this purpose.

779My most noble Father, what my blushing modesty forbids me to 780speake, let your fatherly loue excuse that I write, I am subdude by loue, 781yet not inthralld through the licentiousnes of a loose desire, but made 782prisoner in that noble battell twixt Affection and Zeale: I haue no life 783but in this liberty, neither any liberty but in this thraldome, nor shall 784your tender selfe, weighing my affections truely in the Scale of your 785Iudgement, haue cause to contradict me, since him I loue hath as much 786merite in him, to challenge the title of a Sonne, as I blood of yours 787to inherite the name of daughter, then if you shall refuse to giue him 788me in marriage, deny not I pray you to make ready for my funerall.

790Which request of hers, when the king her father had thus 791vnderstood of, hee beganne first to examine with him selfe, what 792vertue was in this choice, that should bind her thoughts to this 793liking, and what succeeding comfort hee might expect, the expectation 794of which, might inuite him to his consent. First hee beganne to 795remember himselfe, that he came vnto his Court but poore, and for 796pouerty, quoth the good king, tis a woorkemanship, that Nature makes 797vppe euen for others to contemne, and, which in these times, is 798growne odious to keepe companie withall, that to marrie her which 799was his onely childe, and the expectation of his subiectes, with 800one of so lowe blood and meane discent, would returne, rather a 801dishonour than a dignitie to his name, since Parents rather expect 802the aduauncement of Titles, and the raising of their houses, in the 803vniting of their issue, than the declining: but in the end, when hee 804had put all the Interiections he could between her loue and his 805liking, his vprightnesse made him see, that in vertue consisted mans 806onely perfection, and in him, as her befitting Court, she thought it 807fittest to keepe her royall residence, and in that opinion allowing 808of his daughters choice, hee thought himselfe happy to liue Father 809to such a vertuous sonne, and his daughter more happy to be coupled 810to so noble a husband. And as hee was now thus contracting them 811together in his reioycing thoughts, euen in the instant came in 812Pericles, to giue his Grace that salutation which the morning required 813of him, when the king intending to dissemble that in shew, which hee 814had determined on in heart, hee first tolde him, that his daughter 815had that morning sent vnto him that Letter, wherein shee intreated 816of him, that his Grace would be pleased, that himselfe (whom shee 817knew to call by no other name but the Stranger Pericles) might 818become her Schoolemaister, of whose rariety in musicke, excellencie 819in song, with comelinesse in dauncing, not onely shee had heard, but 820himselfe had borne testimonie to be the best, that euer their 821iudgements had had cause to iudge of. When Pericles, though willing 822to yeelde any courtesies to so gratious a Lady, and not disdaining 823to be commaunded any seruices by so good a Lord, yet replyed, Though 824all his abilities were at his Graces pleasure, yet he thought himselfe 825vnwoorthy to be his daughters schoolemaister. I but quoth Symonides, 826shee will not be denied to be your Scholler, and for manifest proofe 827thereof heere is her owne Character, which to that purpose shee hath 828sent vnto vs, and we to that purpose giue you leaue to reade: which 829Pericles ouerlooking, and finding the whole tenour thereof to be, 830that his daughter from all the other Princes, nay from the whole 831worlde, sollicited him for her husband, he straitway rather coniectured 832it to be some subtiltie of the father to betray his life, than any 833constancy of the princesse to loue him: and foorthwith prostrating 834himselfe at the kings feete, hee desired that his Grace would no way 835seeke to staine the noblenesse of his minde, by any way seeking to 836intrappe the life of so harmelesse a Gentleman, or that with euill 837he would conclude so much good which he already had begunne toward 838him, protesting, that for his part, his thoughts had neuer that 839ambition, so much as to ayme at the loue of his daughter, nor any 840action of his, gaue cause of his princely displesure: but the king 841faining still an angry brow, turned toward him, and tolde him, 842that like a traitour, hee lyed. Traytour, quoth Pericles? I, 843traytour, quoth the king, that thus disguised, art stolne into 844my Court, with the witchcraft of thy actions to bewitch, the 845yeelding spirit of my tender Childe. Which name of Traytor being 846againe redoubled, Pericles then, insteade of humblenesse seemed 847not to forget his auntient courage, but boldely replyed, That were 848it any in his Court, except himselfe, durst call him traytor, euen 849in his bosome he would write the lie: affirming, that he came into 850his Court in search of honour, and not to be a rebell to his State, 851his bloud was yet vntainted, but with the heate, got by the wrong 852the king had offered him, and that he boldly durst, and did defie, 853himselfe, his subiectes, and the prowdest danger, that eyther tyranny 854or treason could inflict vpon him. Which noblenesse of his, the king 855inwardly commending, though otherwise dissembling, he answered, he 856should prooue it otherwise, since by his daughters hand, it there 857was euident, both his practise and her consent therein. Which 858wordes were no sooner vttered, but Thaysa (who euer since she 859sent her Father her Letter, could not containe her selfe in any 860quiet, till she heard of his answer) came now in, as it had beene 861her parte, to make aunswere to her Fathers last sillable, when 862prince Pericles yeelding his body toward her, in most curteous 863manner demaunded of her by the hope she had of heauen, or the 864desire she had to haue her best wishes fulfilled heere in the 865worlde, that shee would now satisfie, her now displeased Father, 866if euer he, by motion, or by letters, by amorous glaunces, or by 867any meanes that Louers vse to compasse their disseignes, had sought 868to be a friend in the noblenesse of her thoughts, or a copartner 869in the worthinesse of her loue, when she as constant to finish, 870as she was forward to attempt, againe required of him, that suppose 871he had, who durst take offence thereat, since that it was her 872pleasure to giue him to knowe that he had power to desire no more 873than she had willingnesse to performe? How minion, quoth her 874Father (taking her off at the very word, who dare be displeased 875withall?) Is this a fit match for you? a stragling Theseus borne 876we knowe not where, one that hath neither bloud nor merite for thee 877to hope for, or himselfe to challenge euen the least allowaunce 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 shewed him not to be so) yet hee had vertue, which 881is the very ground of all nobilitie, enough to make him noble: 882she intreated him to remember that she was in loue, the power 883of which loue was not to be confined by the power of his will. 884And my most royall Father, quoth shee, what with my penne 885I haue in secret written vnto you, with my tongue now I openly 886confirme, which is, that I haue no life but in his loue, neither 887any being but in the enioying of his worth. But daughter (quoth 888Symonides) equalles to equalls, good to good is ioyned, this not 889being so, the bauine of your minde in rashnesse kindled, must 890againe be quenched, or purchase our displeasure. And for you 891sir (speaking to prince Pericles) first learne to know, I banish 892you my Court, and yet scorning that our kingly inragement should 893stoope so lowe, for that your ambition sir, Ile haue your life. 894Be constant, quoth Thaysa, for euerie droppe of blood hee sheades 895of yours, he shall draw an other from his onely childe. In briefe, 896the king continued still his rage, the Lady her constancie. While 897Pericles stoode amazed at both, till at last the Father being no 898longer able to subdue that which he desired as much as shee, catching 899them both rashly by the handes, as if hee meant strait to haue 900inforced them to imprisonment, he clapt them hand in hand, while 901they as louingly ioyned lip to lip, and with tears trickling from 902his aged eyes, adopted him his happy sonne, and bade them liue 903together as man and wife. What ioy there was at this coupling, 904those that are Louers and enioy their wishes, can better conceiue, 905than my pen can set downe; the one reioycing to be made happy by 906so good and gentle a Lord, the other as happy to be inriched by 907so vertuous a Lady. What preparation there was for their marriage, 908is sufficiently expressed in this, that she was the onely daughter 909to a king, and had her fathers liking in her loue: what speede there 910to was to that marriage, let those iudge who haue the thoughtes of 911Thaysa at this instant, only conceiue the solempnities at the Temple 912are doone, the feast in most solempne order finished, the day spent 913in musicke, dauncing, singing, and all Courtly communication, 914halfe of the night in maskes and other courtly shewes, and the 915other halfe in the happy and lawfull imbracements of these most 916happy Louers. The discourse at large of the liberall Chalenges 917made and proclaimed, at Tilt, Barriers, running at the Ring, 918ioco di can, mannaging fierce horses, running on foote, and dauncing 919in armours, of the stately presented Playes, Shewes disguised, 920Speeches, Maskes and Mummeries, with continuall harmony of all 921kindes of Musicke, with banquetting in all delicacie, I leaue 922to the consideration of them who haue behelde the like in Courtes, 923and at the wedding of princes, rather than afford them to the 924description of my penne, only let such conceiue, all things in 925due order were accomplished, the dueties of marriage performed: 926and faire Thaysa this night is conceiued with child. The next 927day Ioy dwelling thorow the whole kingdom for this coniunction, 928euery man arose to feasting and iollity, for the wedding triumphs 929continued a whole moneth, while Time with his feathered wings, 930so fanned away the houres, and with his slippery feete, so 931glided ouer the dayes, that nine Moones had almost chaunged 932their light, ere halfe the time was thought to be expired, when 933it happened, that as the good Symonides and princely Pericles 934with his faire Thaysa were walking in the garden adioyning to 935their pallace, one of the Lords, who (as before) were sent by 936graue and carefull Helycanus, in search of their absent Prince, 937came hastily in to them, who vppon his knee deliuered vnto the 938yoong Prince a Letter, which being opened the contents therein 939spake thus vnto him: That Antiochus and his daughter (as is 940before described) were with the violence of lightning (shot from 941heauen,) strucke sodainely dead. And moreouer, that by the 942consent of the generall voyces the Cittie of Antioch, with 943all the riches therein, and the whole kingdome were reserued 944for his possession and princely government. Which Letter when 945he had read, he presently imparted the news thereof to his 946kingly Father, who vppon view receiued, hee strait knew (what 947vntill then the modesty of Pericles had concealed) that his 948sonne whome from pouerty hee aduanced to be the bedfellow of 949his daughter, was Prince of Tyre, who for the feare he had of 950Antiochus, had forsooke his kingdome, and now had giuen vnto 951him the kingdome of Antiochus for recompence, that graue 952Helycanus had not without much labour, appeased the stubborne 953mutiny of the Tyrians, who in his absence would haue elected him 954their king, and that to auoyde a future insurrection, (his whole 955state) in safety, how necessary it was for him to make a speedy 956returne, which gladnesse Symonides imparted to his Daughter, who 957as gladly receiued them. While Pericles intending a while to 958leaue his deerest deere behinde him, considering how dangerous 959it was for her to trauell by sea, being with childe, and so neere 960her time, he beganne to iatreate of his kingly father of all 961necessarie prouision for his departure, since the safety of 962twoo kingdomes did importune so much: when on the other side 963Thaysa falling at her fathers feete, her teares speaking in her 964sute faster than her wordes, shee humbly requested, that as his 965reuerend age tendered her, or the prosperitie of the Infant 966wherewith shee thought her selfe happy to be imburthened, 967hee would not permitte her to remaine behinde him. Which 968teares of hers preuayling with the aged King, though compelling 969his teares to take a loth and sorrowfull departure of her. Their 970Shippes be strongly appoynted, and fraught with all things 971conuenient as golde, siluer, apparrell, bedding, victualls, 972and armour, and fearing what vnfortunately hapned, causing 973an aged Nurse called Lycorida a Midwife, with other hand maides 974to attend her. They are shipt, and hee on shoare, the one gasing 975after the other with a greedy desire, vntill the high vsurping 976waters tooke away the sight from them both.

978How faire Thaysa died in trauell of childe-birth vppon the Sea, and being 979throwen for buriall in the waters, was cast ashoare at Ephesus, and how by the 980excellent labour of Lord Cerimon a skilfull Physition, she was restored to her 981life againe, and by her owne request placed to liue a Votary in the Temple of Diana.

982Prince Pericles, with his Queene Thaysa, being thus on 983shippe-boorde, and their marriners merrily hauing hoysed vppe their 984sayles, their vessels, as prowde of such a fraught wherewith they 985were enriched, galloped cheerefully on the Ocean. Fortune did now 986seeme to looke fairely, neyther was there promise of any other 987alteration, the day looked louely, and the sea smiled for ioy, 988to haue her bosome pressed with these burthens: But nothing in 989this world that is permanent, Time is the father of Fortune, hee 990is slippery, and then of necessitie must his childe be fickle: 991and this was his alteration, a cloude seemed to arise from forth 992the south, which being by the Maister and Marriners beheld, they 993tolde Prince Pericles, that it was messenger of a storme, which 994was no sooner spoken, but as if the heauens had conspired with the 995waters, and the windes bin assistant to both, they kept such a 996blustering, and such an vnruely stirre, that none could be heard 997to speake but themselues, seas of waters were receiued into their 998ships while others fought against them to expell them out, stop 999the lecage there cries out one, hale vppe the maine bowlings there 1000calles out another, and with their confusion (neither vnderstanding 1001other, since the storme had gotte the maistery) they made such a 1002hideous noyse, that it had had power to haue awakened Death, and 1003to haue affrighted Patience: nor could it choose then but bring 1004much terror to our sea-sicke Queene, who had beene vsed to better 1005attendance, than was now offered her by these ill tutored seruantes 1006Winde and Water: but they who neither respect birth nor blood, 1007prayers nor threats, time nor occasion, continued still their 1008boysterous hauocke. With which stirre (good Lady) her eies and 1009eares, hauing not till then bin acquainted, she is strucke into 1010such a hasty fright, that welladay she falles in trauell, is 1011deliuered of a daughter, and in this childe-birth dies, while 1012her princely husband being aboue the hatches, is one while praying 1013to heauen for her safe deliuerance, an other while suffering for 1014the sorow wherwith he knew his Queene was imburthened, he chid 1015the contrary storme (as if it had been sensible of hearing) to 1016be so vnmanerly, in this vnfitting season, and when so good a 1017Queene was in labor, to keep such a blustering: thus while the 1018good Prince remayned reproouing the one, and pittying the other, 1019vp comes Lycorida the Nurse, sent along by good Symonides with 1020his daughter, and into his armes deliuers his Sea-borne Babe, 1021which he taking to kisse, and pittying it with these words: 1022Poore inch of Nature (quoth he) thou arte as rudely welcome to 1023the worlde, as euer Princesse Babe was, and hast as chiding a 1024natiuitie, as fire, ayre, earth, and water can affoord thee, 1025when, as if he had forgot himselfe, he abruptly breaks out: 1026but say Licorida, how doth my Queene? O sir (quoth she) she 1027hath now passed all daungers, and hath giuen vppe her griefes 1028by ending her life. At which wordes, no tongue is able to 1029expresse the tide of sorrowe that ouer-bounded Pericles, 1030first looking on his Babe, and then crying out for the mother, 1031pittying the one that had lost her bringer ere shee had scarce 1032saluted the worlde, lamenting for himselfe that had beene bereft 1033of so inestimable a Iewell by the losse of his wife, in which 1034sorrowe as he would haue proceeded, vppe came the Maister to him, 1035who for that the storme continued still in his tempestuous height, 1036brake off his sorrowe with these sillables. Sir, the necessitie 1037of the time affoordes no delay, and we must intreate you to be 1038contented, to haue the dead body of your Queene throwne 1039ouer-boorde. How varlet! quoth Pericles, interrupting him, 1040wouldest thou haue me cast that body into the sea for buriall, 1041who being in misery receiued me into fauour? We must intreate 1042you to temperance sir (quoth the Maister) as you respect your 1043owne safety, or the prosperitie of that prety Babe in your 1044armes. At the naming of which word Babe, Pericles looking 1045mournfully vpon it, shooke his head, and wept. But the Maister 1046going on, tolde him, that by long experience they had tried, 1047that a shippe may not abide to carry a dead carcasse, nor 1048would the lingering tempest cease while the dead body remayned 1049with them. But the Prince seeking againe to perswade them, 1050tolde them, that it was but the fondnes of their superstition 1051to thinke so. Call it by what you shal please sir (quoth the 1052Maister) but we that by long practise haue tried the proofe of 1053it, if not with your graunt, then without your consent (for your 1054owne safety, which wee with all duety tender) must so dispose 1055of it. So calling for his seruants about him, he willed one of 1056them, to bring him a chest, which he foorthwith caused to be 1057well bitumed and well leaded for her coffin, then taking vp 1058the body of his (euen in death) faire Thaysa, he arrayed her 1059in princely apparrell, placing a Crowne of golde vppon her 1060head, with his owne hands, (not without store of funerall 1061teares) he layed her in that Toombe, then placed hee also 1062store of golde at her head, and great treasure of siluer at 1063her feete, and hauing written this Letter which he layd vpon 1064her breast, with fresh water flowing in his eyes, as loath to 1065leaue her sight, he nayled vp the Chest, the Tenor of which 1066writing was in forme as followeth;

1067If ere it hap this Chest be driuen

1068On any shoare, on coast or hauen,

1069I Pericles the Prince of Tyre,

1070(That loosing her, lost all desire,)

1071Intreate you giue her burying,

1072Since she was daughter to a King:

1073This golde I giue you as a fee,

1074The Gods requite your charitie.

1075The Chest then being nayled vp close, he commaunded 1076it to be lifted ouer-boorde, and then naming his Childe Marina, 1077for that she was borne vppon the Sea, he directed his Maister 1078to alter the course from Tyre, (being a shorter cutte to Tharsus) 1079and for whose safety he thither intended, where with his hoste 1080Cleon and Dionysa his wife, he intended to leaue his little 1081infant, to be fostered and brought vp. The dead body being 1082thus throwne ouer-boorde, when as if Fortune had bethought 1083her, that shee had wrought her vtmost spight to him, by 1084bereauing him of so great a comfort, euen in the instant 1085the tempest ceaseth, where we will leaue Prince Pericles 1086vppon calme waters, though not with a calme minde, sayling 1087to Tharsus: and beholde, the next morning, by which time, 1088the waues had rouled, from waue to waue this Chest to land, 1089and cast it ashoare on the coast of Ephesus, in which Citty 1090liued a Lord called Cerimon, who, though of noble bloud, and 1091great possessions, yet was he so addicted to studie, and in 1092searching out the excellencie of Arts, that his felicitie 1093consisted in contemplation, wisely fore-knowing, so icie is 1094the state of riches, that it is thawed to nothing, by the least 1095aduersitie, that carelesse heires may dispend, and riot consume 1096them, when one vertue, and our deserued 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 Physicke, as if 1100Apollo himselfe, or another Aesculapius had beene his 1101Schoolemaister: nor was he of this plentie a niggard to the 1102needie, but so bountifull to the distressed, that his house 1103and hand were accompted the hospitalls for the diseased. This 1104Lord Cerimon had his residence built so neare the shoare, that 1105in his windowes he ouer-looked the Sea: and being this morning 1106in conference with some that came to him both for helpe for 1107themselues, and reliefe for others; and some that were relating 1108the crueltie of the last nights tempest, on a sodayne casting 1109his eye from foorth his casement towards the maine, he might 1110espie the waters, as it were, playing with the Chest wherein 1111the dead Queene was incoffind, and which was vpon the sodayne, 1112by a more eager billow, cast on his bankes, when presently 1113thinking it to be the remnant of some shippewracke, caused 1114in the last nights storme, calling for his seruants, hee 1115foorthwith commaunded them to haue it brought vppe to him as 1116forfeited vnto him, being cast on his ground, which accordingly 1117performed, hee as presently gaue charge it should be opened, 1118when not without much wonder he straitway viewed the dead body 1119of the Queene, so crowned, so royally apparelled, so 1120intreasured as before, and taking vp the writing which he 1121likewise found placed vpon her breast, hee read it to the 1122Gentlemen, who at that time accompanied him, and knowing it 1123thereby to be the dead Queene to Prince Pericles. Now surely, 1124quoth Cerimon, thou hast a bodie euen drowned with woe for 1125the losse of so goodly a creature: for Gentlemen, sayde he, 1126as you may perceiue, such was the excellencie of her beauty, 1127that grimme Death himselfe hath not power to suffer any 1128deformitie to accompany it. Then laying his hand gently 1129vpon her cheeke, he bethought him that life had not lost 1130all the workemanshippe that Nature had bestowed vppon her, 1131for euen at the opening of the Chest, and as it were she 1132then receiuing fresh aire, he might perceue, a new but calm 1133glowing to reespire in her cheeks, with which being somewhat 1134amazed. Now surely Gentlemen, quoth hee turning to them, 1135who were greedily set round about him, this Queene hath 1136not long beene intraunced, and I haue read of some Egyptians, 1137who after foure houres death, (if man may call it so) haue 1138raised impouerished bodies, like to this, vnto their former 1139health, nor can it be disparagement to me to vse my best 1140practise on this Queene, to which by the Gentlemen that 1141accompanyed him, hee was incouraged to attempt, since that 1142the recouery of her could not but appeare to be a worke of 1143wonder, and since that his fortune was so successefull in 1144his ministring, that all Ephesus was repleate with his helpe, 1145so calling for a seruant of his to attend him with certayne 1146boxes which he named were in his studie, as also with fire 1147and necessary linnen, inuoking Apollo to be gratious to his 1148empericke, and the worke in hand, he began to apply to her, 1149First pulling downe the clothes from off the Ladies bosome, 1150he powred vppon her a most precious oyntment, and bestowing 1151it abroad with his hand, perceiued some warmth in her breast, 1152and that there was life in the body, whereat somewhat 1153astonished, he felt her pulses, layde his cheeke to her 1154mouth, and examining all other tokens that he could deuise, 1155he perceiued how death stroue with life within her, and that 1156the conflict was dangerous, and doubtfull who should preuaile. 1157Which beeing done, he chafed the body against the fire, 1158vntill the bloud which was congealed with colde was wholly 1159dissolued, when powring a precious liquor into her mouth, 1160hee perceiued warmth more and more to encrease in her, and 1161the golden fringes of her eyes a litle to part: then calling 1162softly to the Gentlemen who were witnesses about him, he 1163bade them that they should commaund some still musicke to 1164sound. For certainely quoth he, I thinke this Queene will 1165liue, and suppose that she hath bin much abused, for she 1166hath not beene long intraunced, condemning them for rashnesse 1167so hastily to throwe her ouer-boorde. And when he had so 1168said, he tooke the body reuerently into his armes, and bare 1169it into his owne Chamber, and layed it vpon his bed groueling 1170vpon the breast, then tooke hee certaine hote and comfortable 1171oiles, and warming them vpon the coles, he dipped faire wooll 1172therein, and fomented all the bodie ouer therewith, vntill 1173such time as the congealed bloud and humours were thorowly 1174resolued, and the spirites in due forme recouered their 1175woonted course, the veines waxed warme, the arteries 1176beganne to beate, and the lungs drew in the fresh ayre 1177againe, and being perfectly come to her selfe, lifting 1178vp those now againe pricelesse diamonds of her eyes, O 1179Lord (quoth shee) where am I? for it seemeth to me that 1180I haue beene in a strange Countrey. And wheres my Lord 1181I pray you? I long to speake with him. But Cerimon, who 1182best knew, that now with any thing to discomfort her, 1183might breede a relapse, which would be vnrecouerable, 1184intreated her to be cheered, for her Lord was well, and 1185that anone, when the time was more fitting, and that her 1186decayed spirites were repayred, hee would gladly speake 1187with her: So, as it were, being but newly awaked from death, 1188to the great amasement of the beholders, she presently fell 1189into a most comfortable slumber, which Lord Cerimon giuing 1190charge none should disturbe her of, he in the meane time, 1191and against she should awake, prouided cherishing meates, 1192and as her strength grew, gaue wholesome clothes to refresh 1193her with. But not long after, weakenesse being banished 1194from her, and Cerimon, by communication knew, that shee 1195came of the stocke of a King, he sent for many of his 1196friendes to come vnto him, and adopted her for his owne 1197daughter, and related vnto her, howe after so greeuous a 1198tempest, in what manner shee was found. In which tempest 1199she supposing her kingly husband to be shipwrecked, shee 1200with many teares intreated, that since he had giuen her 1201life, he would be pleased to giue her leaue to liue vnknowne 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 arriuing at Tharsus, deliuereth his 1207yoong daughter Marina vnto Cleon and Dyonysa to be fostered 1208vp: and how Lycorida the Nurse lying vppon her death-bed, 1209declareth vnto Marina who were her parents.

1210Hauing thus left the recouered Thaysa amongst the holy 1211Nunnes in the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, our Storie biddeth vs 1212looke backe vnto sorrowfull Pericles, whose shippe with fortunate 1213winde, fauour of the heauens, and prouidence of his pylate, arriued 1214at the shoare of Tharsus, where vpon his landing hee was curteously 1215receiued by Cleon and Dyonysa; whome he as curteously saluted, telling 1216them the heauie chaunces which had befallen him, both of the great 1217stormes and tempests on the Sea,which he with patience had indured, 1218as also of the death of the good Lady Thaysa, which he not without 1219much sorrow suffered, onely quoth he, I haue heere left a little 1220picture of her, who for it was giuen vnto me at Sea, I haue named 1221Marina, and I thanke the heauens, is so like vnto her, that I neuer 1222doe looke vppon it, but with much comfort, in whose protection and 1223education I meane to vse your friendship, while I goe on in trauell 1224to receiue the kingdome of Antiochus, which is reserued for mee. And 1225if you will euer shew your gratitude, for my former charitie extended 1226towardes you, and all this Citty in a former distresse, the gods haue 1227giuen this cause, to prooue your thankefulnesse. When both vowing by 1228solemne oath, their care should be on her, as reason vnto themselues, 1229who is the guider of mans life: he satisfied with that their promise, 1230thanked them, telling them moreouer, that with them also he woulde 1231leaue Lycorida her mothers nurse, (and giuen vnto him by her good 1232father Symonides) that shee might be a nurse vnto her child, only 1233further requesting them, and so charging Lycorida, that if it pleased 1234the gods to lend her life to the yeeres of vnderstanding, they should 1235not till his returne, make knowne vnto her, that she was a braunch 1236sproong from him, but onely be brought vppe as the daughter of Cleon 1237and Dyonysa, lest that the knowledge of her high birth, should make 1238her growe prowd to their instructions. Of which hauing likewise promise, 1239he deliuered the infant and the nurse to Cleon, and therewithall, great 1240sums of golde, siluer, and apparrell, and vowing solemnely by othe to 1241himselfe, his head should grow vncisserd, his beard vntrimmed, himselfe 1242in all vncomely, since he had lost his Queene, and till he had married 1243his daughter at ripe years. When they much wondring at so strange a 1244resolue, and promising to be most faithfull with all diligence according 1245to his directions, Pericles tooke his leaue, departed with his Ship, 1246sayling euen to the vttermost parts of all Egypt, while his yoong daughter 1247Marina grew vp to more able discretion, and when she was fully attaind to 12485. yeers of age, being to her selfe knowne no other but to be free borne, 1249she was set to Schoole with other free children, alwayes ioyntly accompanied 1250with one onely daughter that Dionysa had, being of the same time that 1251she was of, where growing vp, aswel in learning, as in number of yeeres, 1252vntill she came to the reckoning of foureteene, one day when she returned 1253from Schoole, she found Lycorida her Nurse sodainely fallen sicke, and 1254sitting beside her vpon the bed, she as in care of her, demaunded the 1255cause and manner of her sickenesse: when the Nurse finding her disease 1256to haue no hope of recouery, but a harbinger that came before to prepare 1257a lodging for death, answered her to this purpose; For my sickenesse, 1258quoth she, it matters not (deare childe) since it is as necessary to be 1259sicke, as it is needefull to die, onely I intreate of you to hearken vnto 1260a dying womans wordes that loueth you, and laying them vppe in your heart, 1261perswade your selfe, that in these houres no sinner should, or can be so 1262wretched, to spare a minute to finde time to lie. Knowe then, that you are 1263not the daughter of Cleon and Dyonysa, as you till this haue supposed: 1264but hearken vnto me, and I will declare vnto thee the beginning of thy 1265birth, that thou mayest knowe how to guide thy selfe after my death: 1266Pericles the Prince of Tyre is thy father, and Thaysa king Symonides 1267daughter was thy mother: which father and mother departed from thy grandsir 1268at Pentapolis toward their kingdom of Tyre, thy mother being at Sea, fell 1269in trauell with thee, and died after thou wert borne: when thy Father 1270Pericles inclosed her body in a Chest with princely ornaments, laying 1271twenty talents of golde at her head, and as much at her feete in siluer; 1272with a Scedule written, containing the dignitie of her birth, and maner 1273of her death, then caused he the Chest to be thrown ouer-boorde into the 1274Sea, thorow a superstitious opinion which the mariners beleeued, leauing 1275her body so inriched, to the intent, that whither soeuer it were driuen, 1276they that found it, in regarde of the riches, would bury her according to 1277her estate. Thus Lady were you borne vppon the waters, and your fathers 1278Ship with much wrestling of contrary windes, and with his vnspeakeable 1279griefe of minde, arriued at this shoare, and brought thee in thy swadling 1280clowtes vnto this Citty, where he with great care deliuered thee vnto this 1281thine hoste Cleon and Dyonysa his wife, diligently to be fostered vp, and 1282left me heere also to attend vppon thee, swearing this oath to keepe 1283inuiolate, his haire should be vncisserd, his face vntrimmed, himselfe 1284in all things vncomely continually to mourne for your dead mother, vntill 1285your ripe yeares gaue him occasion to marry you to some prince worthy your 1286birth and beauty; wherefore I now admonish you, that if after my death, 1287thine hoste or hostesse, whom thou calst thy parents, shall happly offer 1288thee any iniury, or discurteously taking aduantage of thy absent father 1289as vnbefitting thine estate intertain thee, haste thee into the market 1290place, where thou shall finde a Statue erected to thy father standing, 1291take hold of it, and crie aloude; You cittizens of Tharsus, I am his daughter 1292whose Image this is, who being mindefull of thy fathers benefits will 1293doubtlesse reuenge thy iniurie. When Marina thanking Lycorida for making 1294that known to her, which till then was vnknowne, and happly either thorow 1295Time or Death might haue beene buried in her ignorance: and vowing, if euer 1296neede should so require (of which as yet she had no cause to doubt) her 1297counsell should befollowed. And so Lycorida through sickenesse growing more 1298weake, and Marina for this knowledge and aduise still tending on her, in 1299her armes at last shee gaue vp the Ghost.

1301How after the death of Lycorida the Nurse Dyonysa 1302enuying at the beauty of Marina, hired a seruant of hers to 1303haue murderd her, and how she was rescued by certaine Pyrates, 1304and by them carried to the Cittie of Meteline, where among other 1305bondslaues, shee was solde to a common Bawde.

1306Marina hauing thus by Lycoridaes meanes had knowledge of her parentes, 1307and Lycorida hauing beene in her life, her most carefull Nurse, shee (not without 1308iust cause) lamented her death, and caused her body to be solempnely interred, in 1309a field without the walles of the Cittie, raising a monument in remembrance of her, 1310vowing to her selfe a yeares solemne sadnesse, and that her eies also for so long a 1311time should daily pay their dewy offerings, as lamenting the losse of so good a friend.

1312But this decree of hers being accomplished, and all the rites thereof 1313faithfully fulfilled, she dismissed her bodie of her mourning attire, and againe 1314apparrelled her selfe as before, in her most costly habilliment, frequenting the 1315Schooles, and diligently endeuouring the studies of the Liberall Sciences, wherein 1316she so out-went in perfection, the labours of all that were studious with her, 1317that shee was rather vsed amongst them as their Schoolemistris to instruct, 1318than their fellow Scholler to learne, onely for her recreation betwixt the houres 1319of study, dauncing, singing, sowing, or what experience soeuer (for in no action 1320was she vnexpert, as also euery morning, and at noone, before she made her meale) 1321she forgotte not to reuisite her Nurses sepulchre: and entring into the monument, 1322vpon her knees she there offered her funerall teares for the losse of her mother, 1323and desiring the gods in their holy Synode to protect the safety of her father, 1324accusing her selfe as an vnfortunate childe, whose beeing, caused the death of 1325her mother, so good a Queene, and the sorrow of her father, so curteous a Prince: 1326and in very deede, the whole course of her life was so affable and curteous, that 1327she wonne the loue of all and euery man, accompting his tongue (the father of speech) 1328a trewant, which was not liberall in her prayses: so that it fortuned as she passed 1329along the streete, with Dyonysa her daughter, who was her companion and Schoolefellow, 1330and who till then she supposed had beene her sister. The people, as at other times, 1331came running out of their doores with greedy desire to looke vpon her; and beholding 1332the beauty and comelinesse of Marina so farre to out-shine Dyonysaes daughter, who 1333went side by side with her, could not containe themselues from crying out, Happy is 1334that father who hath Marina to his daughter, but her Companion that goeth with her 1335is fowle and ill-fauoured. Which when Dyonysa heard, her enuy of those prayses bred 1336in her a contempt, and that contempt soone transformed it selfe into wrath, all which 1337shee for the instant dissembling, yet at her comming home withdrawing her selfe into 1338a priuate walke, she in this maner with her selfe beganne to discourse; It is now 1339quoth she, foureteene yeers since Pericles this out-shining gerles father departed 1340this our Citty, in all which time we haue not receiued so much as a Letter, to 1341signifie that he remembers her, or any other token, to manifest he hath a desire 1342to acknowledge her, whereby I haue reason to coniecture, that he is either surely 1343dead, or not regardes her, though I must confesse, at his departure from hence, 1344and his committing her to our protection, he left her not vnfurnished of all things 1345fitting the education of his childe, and a princesse of her birth, both of golde, 1346plate, and apparrell, euen competent enough to foster her according to her degree, 1347nay (if neede were) to marry her according to her blood. But what of all this? he 1348is absent, and Lycorida her Nurse is dead: Shee in beauty out-shines my childe, and 1349I haue her fathers treasure in possession, (though giuen for her vse) shall make my 1350daughter out-shine her. What though I knowe her father did releeue our Citty? I 1351agayne doe knowe, that but few in these dayes requite benefites with thankes, longer 1352than while they are in receiuing. In briefe, I enuy her, and she shall perish for it. 1353With the which wordes she had no sooner concluded, but in comes a seruant of hers, 1354and she now intended to make him the diuells. With this Leonine she thus began to 1355interprete her will: Leonine quoth she, thou knowst Marina. And madame, quoth he, 1356for a most vertuous Gentlewoman. Talke not of vertue, quoth Dyonysa, for thats not 1357the businesse which we haue in hand; but I must haue thee learne to know her now, 1358that thou mayest neuer know her after ward, I vnderstand you not quoth Leonine. When 1359she replied, Take this at large then, Thou art my bond-slaue, whom I haue power to 1360enfranchise or captiue, if thou wilt obey me, first then receiue this golde as the 1361earnest which promiseth vnto thee a greater reward: but if thou deny to accomplish 1362my desire, in bondage and imprisonment, I will fetter thee, and by no other meanes 1363conclude my reuenge, but by thy death. Speake on my taske then good Madam, quoth 1364Leonine, For what is it that a bondman will not attempt for liberty, which is deerer 1365to man then life, and what not I then ? Thou knowest, quoth Dyonysa then, that 1366Marina hath a custome,as soone as shee returneth home from schoole, not to eate 1367meate before she haue gone to visite the sepulchre of her nurse. There at her next 1368deuotion, doe thou meete her, stand ready, and with thy weapon drawen, sodainely 1369kill her. How kill her quoth Leonine, why tiz an acte vnconscionable, and deserues 1370damnation but to conspire in thought, since she is a creature so harmlesse, that 1371euen Innocencie it selfe cannot be more pure, nor inwardly be more decently arrayed 1372than is her minde: yet to fulfill your pleasure, for the hope of golde, and the 1373releasement of my bondage, were she as spotlesse as Trueth, heere are two monsters 1374(drawing his sworde into his hand) shall effect it for you, when she rewarding him 1375with more golde, and commending his resolution, he goes forward to attend for her 1376at Lycoridaes Toombe, and Marina being returned from Schoole, is also come thither 1377to offer on the monument her diurnall deuotion, when on the sodaine, while her knees 1378kissed the earth, and her eyes saluted heauen, while prayers were in her mouth, and 1379teares in her eyes, all tributary offerings, giuen vnto the gods for the prosperitie 1380of her father, on the sodaine toward her, out rushed this Leonine, and with a looke 1381as cruell as his heart, and speech as harsh as his intent, he resolued her in blunt 1382wordes, that he was come to kill her, that hee was hired vnto it by Dyonysa 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 hee had sworne to kill her, and he would 1385kill her, and a thousand more, ere he would be damned for periury. When she that 1386was on her knees before making her orisons to heauen, was now com-pelled to turne 1387her intreaties to him: and first demaunded of him what offence her ignoraunce had 1388done (for wittingly shee knew shee coulde doe none) eyther to him, that (as himselfe 1389said) came to murther her, or to her that hired him. But the villaine neyther 1390regarding her innocencie or teares, though showred in aboundaunce, but drawing 1391out his sword wherewith to haue shed her blood, and haue damned his own soule, 1392there were certaine pyrates that were newly put to water, in at a Creeke neare 1393adioyning, where the villaine intended this most inhumane murther, and being come 1394vp ashoare to forrage, for what pillage soeuer they could happen vpon, euen as he 1395was about to haue giuen the fatall blow, whom all her intreaties could not perswade 1396him from, beholding so bloudy a villaine, offering violence to so goodly a beauty, 1397they running all at once toward him cried out aloude; Holde monstrous wretch, as thou 1398louest thy life, hold, for that Mayden is our prey, and not thy victory. Which when 1399the villaine heard, and perceiuing his intent to be intercepted, making his heeles 1400his best defence, till hauing fledde some distance from them, and obseruing them 1401not to pursue, he secretly stole backe, to note what the euent would be, which was, 1402that the pyrates who had thus rescued Marina, carried her to their shippes, hoysed 1403sayles, and departed. At which the vilaine returned home to his Mistris, declaring 1404to her that he had doone what she commaunded him to doe, namely murthered Marina, 1405and from the toppe of a high cliffe, throwne her body downe for buriall into the 1406Sea, aduising her withall, that since it was done, the chiefest meanes to auoyde 1407suspition, 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 daungerous disease: 1409and withall, to bleare the eies of the multitude (who with faire shewes are soone 1410flattered) neere to her fathers Statue to erect a monument for her. According 1411whereunto, she attyred her selfe and her daughter in solempne attire, and 1412counterfeiting a fained sorrow, and dissembling teares. And going now to erect 1413her monument (to the view of which, all the Cittizens flocked) She in publike 1414assembly thus spake vnto them. Deere Friends and Cittizens of Tharsus, If you 1415shall happly wonder, why we thus vnwoontedly weep and mourne in your sight, it is 1416because the ioy of our eyes and staffe of our olde age Marina is dead, whose 1417absence hath left vnto vs nothing but salt teares, and sorrowfull harts, as if 1418by her death we were diuided from all comfort, yet haue we here taken order for 1419her funeralls, and buried her (as heere you see) according to her degree, which 1420losse of hers was right grieuous to all the people, nor was there any that was 1421capable of sorrowe, but spent it for her, so that with one voyce and willing 1422handes, they attended Dyonysa to the Market place whereas her fathers Image 1423stoode, made of brasse, and erected also another to her with this Inscription:

1425The fairest, chastest, and most best lies heere,

1426Who wythred in her spring of yeere:

1427In Natures garden, though by growth a Bud,

1428Shee was the chiefest flower, she was good.

1429So with this flattery, (which is like a Skreene before the grauest 1430ludgements) deceiuing the Cittizens, and all doone, vnsuspected she returned 1431home, when Cleon, who not at all consented to this treason, but so soone as he 1432heard therof, being strucke into amazement, he apparelled himselfe in mourning 1433garments, lamenting the vntimely ruine of so goodly a Lady, saying to himselfe, 1434Alas now, what mischiefe am I wrapped in, what might I do or say heerein? The 1435Father of that Virgine deliuered this Citty from the perill of death, for this 1436Citties sake hee suffered shipwracke, lost his goodes, and endured penury, and 1437now he is requited with euill for good, his daughter which hee committed by my 1438care to be brought vp, is now deuoured by the cruelty of my wife, so that I 1439am depriued, as it were, of mine owne eyes, and forced to bewaile the death 1440of that Innocent, she in whose presence, as in the fortune of mine own posterity 1441I should haue had delight. And then demaunding of Dyonysa how she could giue 1442prince Pericles accompt of his childe, hauing robbed him of his childe, how 1443she could appease the fury of his wrath, if her acte were knowne to him? or 1444how alay the displeasure of the gods, from whome nothing can be hid. For 1445Pericles quoth she, if such a pious innocent as your selfe do not reueale 1446it vnto him, how should he come to the knowledge thereof, since that the 1447whole Citty 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 minde to thinke they can make stones speake, and raise them vp 1450in euidence, for my parte I haue my wish, I haue my safety, and feare no daunger 1451till it fall vpon me. But Cleon rather cursing then commending this obduracy 1452in her, he continued mourning vnfainedly, but she according to her sinful 1453condition. By this time the pirats (who before rescued Marina, when she 1454should haue beene slaine by trecherous Leonine) are now ariued at Meteline, 1455and in the Market place of the Cittie, according to the custome, amongst 1456other bondslaues, offered her to be solde, whither all sorts of people, 1457comming to supply their purposes, Marina was not without much commendations 1458gazed vpon of the buyers, some commending her beauty, others her sober 1459countenaunce, all pittying her mishap, and praysing her perfections, which 1460prayses of her, were so spread through the Citty, that from all parts they 1461came crowding to see her, amongst the number of which, was a Leno or bawde, 1462yet one who had not set vp shop, and kept trade for himselfe, but was yet 1463but iourney-man to the deuill. This Leno amongst others, staring vpon her, 1464and knowing her face to be a fit faire signe for his maisters house, and 1465with which signe he made no doubt, but to lodge vnder their roofe, all 1466th'intemperate (euen from youth to age) thorow the whole Citty, hee 1467foorthwith demaunded the price, intending to buy her, at what rate soeuer, 1468and in the end, went thorow, and bargained to haue her, paying a hundred 1469Sestercies of golde, and so presently hauing giuen earnest, he takes 1470Marina, and the rest of the Pirates home with him to his Maisters house, 1471Marina was there to be taught how to giue her body vppe a prostitute to 1472sinne, and the Pirates for their new stuffe to receiue their money.

1474How Marina being thus solde to a Bawde, preserued her virginitie, 1475and how shee conuerted all that euer came to make hire of her beauty from the 1476loosenesse of their desires.

1477Marina was no sooner thus concluded for, by the hee Bawde, 1478but the Pyrates were as soone brought home to his masters house, and 1479receiued their payment, when after their departure, she giuing commaund 1480to the Pander her man, that he should goe backe into the Market place, 1481and there with open crie proclaime, what a picture of Nature they had at 1482home, for euery lasciuious eie to gaze vpon. The she Bawd beganne to 1483instruct her, with what complement she should entertaine her customers: 1484she first asked her, if she were a vir/- gine. When Marina replyed, she 1485thanked the Gods, shee neuer knew what it was to be otherwise. In so 1486being quoth the she bawde, you haue beene well: but now in 1487plaine tearmes I must teach you how to be worse. It is not goodnesse in you (quoth 1488Marina) to teach me to be so: for goodnes answerd the bawd, it is a 1489Lecture, such as we vse seldome, and our consciences neuer reade one 1490to another, and therefore attend vnto me: you must now be like a stake 1491for euery man to shoote at, you must be like a foord that must receiue all waters, 1492you must haue the benefite of all nations, and seeme to take delight in 1493all men. I thanke my starres, answered Marina, I am displeased with none: 1494for by this answere it appeared such was the puritie of her minde, that 1495she vnderstoode not what this deuills sollicitor pleaded vnto her: but 1496she quickely taking her off, told in more immodest phrase, that shee had 1497payde for her, and that she and all her body was hers, that will ye nill 1498ye she must now be what she her selfe had beene (and there is seldome any 1499bawde, but before time, hath beene a whoore) that to conclude, shee had 1500bought her like a beast, and shee meant to hire her out.

1501When she vnderstanding vnwillingly what all these wordes tended 1502vnto, she fell prostrate at her feete, and with teares showred downe in 1503aboundaunce, she intreated her, not to make hire of her bodie to so 1504diseasefull a vse, which shee hoped the gods had ordained to a more happy 1505purpose. When the bawde answered her, Come, come, these droppes auaile 1506thee not, thou arte now mine, and I will make my best of thee: and I 1507must now learne you to know, we whom the worlde calles Bawdes, but more 1508properly are to be stiled Factors for men, are in this like the hangman, 1509neither to regard prayers, nor teares, but our owne profite. So calling 1510for her slaue, which was gouernour ouer her she-houshold, this was her 1511appoyntment vnto him, Goe quoth shee and take this Mayden, as shee is 1512thus decked in costly apparrell (for it is to be remembred, that the 1513former Pirates had no way dispoyled her of her ornaments, with purpose 1514to prise her at the higher rate) and leading her along, this be the crie 1515thorow the whole Citty, That whosoeuer desireth the purchase of so 1516wondrous a beauty, shall for his first enioying her, pay tenne peeces 1517of golde, and that afterward shee shall be common vnto the people for 1518one peece at a time. Which will of hers, Marina being no way able to 1519resist, but with her sorrowe, onely desiring of the good gods, to be 1520protectors of her chastitie: She with this her slaue was hurried along, 1521and who with the tenour of his priapine proclamation, had so awaked the 1522intemperaunce of the whole Cittie, that against her returne, of high and 1523low there was a full crowding at the doore, euery man carrying his money 1524in his hand, and thinking him the happiest man that might first haue 1525accesse. But heauen who is still a protector of Vertue against Vice, 1526ordayned this for Marina, that the sending her abroad, with purpose, 1527first to shew her, and after, to make sale of her to the worlde, was 1528the onely meanes to defend her in the state of her virginitie. For as 1529she was (as before is saide) led along, and thousands of people wondring 1530about her, and flocking as it had beene so many flies, to infect so 1531delicate a preseruatiue, it happened that Lysimachus the cheefe gouernour 1532of Meteline, looking out at his windowe, to obserue what strange occasion 1533drew the giddy hauocke of people, to muster themselues into such throngs: 1534he, not without great admiration obserued, that it was to make boote of 1535so pretious a beauty, whose inflaming colours which Nature had with her 1536best Arte placed vppon her face, compelled him to censure, that she was 1537rather a deseruing bed-fellow for a Prince, than a play-fellow for so 1538rascally an assembly: so pittying awhile her, misfortune, that it was 1539so hard to be throwne into the iaws of two such poisonous and deuouring 1540serpents, a Pandar, and a Bawde, yet at last, being inflamed with a little 1541sinnefull concupiscence, by the power of her face, he resolued himselfe 1542that since shee must fall, it were farre more fitter, into his owne armes, 1543whose authoritie could stretch to doe her good, than into the hote 1544imbracements of many, to her vtter ruine; so presently dismissing away 1545a seruant of his, he gaue him charge, to giue in charge to the Bawd, 1546that at the returne home, of this new peece of merchandise of hers, as 1547shee respected, or in time of neede would be beholding to his fauour, 1548(and Heauens forfend but Bawdes nowe and then should stand in neede of 1549anthoritie) she should keepe her priuate from the conference of any, for 1550hee himselfe that night late in the euening, in secret, and in some 1551disguise, would (for her guests sake) visite her house. There needed 1552no further incouragement to bid the Bawde stirre vp her damnable limbes 1553to make all fit. It was enough in this, that the Gouernour had sent worde, 1554it was he that was to come. But hauing giuen the best garnish she could to 1555her sinnefull habitation: and Marina being returned home againe by the Pandar, 1556who had ledde her vp and downe as Beare-heards leade beares, for shew first, 1557and to be baited after: Shee tooke her vp with her into a priuate Chamber, 1558when the fruite of her instructions were, how she should now learne to 1559behaue her selfe, for she had fortunes comming vppon her, she was nowe to 1560be receiued, respected, and regarded of a man that was honourable. Heauen 1561graunt that I may finde him so, quoth Marina. Thou needest not doubt it 1562sweete heart, quoth the Bawde, for though I tell it thee in priuate, which 1563for a million he would not haue to be knowne publikely: Hee is no woorse a 1564man thou arte shortly to deale withall, than the Gouernour of this whole 1565Citty, a Gentleman that is curteous, a fauourer of our calling, one that 1566will as soone haue his hand in his pocket, as such a pretty dilling as 1567thou shalt come in his eye, and not as most of our Gentlemen doe, drawe 1568it out empty, but filling it full of golde, will most Ioue-like rayne it 1569downe in to his Danaes lap. In briefe, he is a Nobleman, and, which is a 1570thing which we respect more than his nobilitie, he is liberall: he is curteous, 1571and thou mayest commaund him, he is vertuous and thou mayest learne of him. 1572All these indeede, answered Marina, are properties, due vnto so worthy a 1573Gentleman, whom you picture him to be: and if he be liberall in good, I 1574shall be glad to taste of his bountie: if curteous, I shall as willingly 1575become his seruant: and if vertuous, it shal be in me no way to make him 1576vicious. Well, well, well, sayes the Bawde, we must haue no more of this 1577puling, and I must haue you learne to know, vice is as hereditary to our 1578house, as the olde barne to your countrey beggar. But as shee would haue 1579proceeded with more of these her diuelish counsells, hastily into the 1580Chamber came the Pandar vnto them, who as hote as a taste, with his haste 1581to bring the newes he told them, that the Lorde Lysimachm was come, and 1582if the word Come had beene his kew, he entred the Chamber with the master 1583bawde, when the whole frie of sinners cursying about him very largely, as 1584the Prologue to his entertainment, distributed golde among them, then as 1585roundly demaunded, for that same fresh peece of stuffe, which by their 1586proclamation they tolde, they had now to make sale of, and he of set purpose 1587was come to haue a sight of.

1588When they all poynting toward Marina, told him there shee was, and 1589for our selues, quoth they, we hauing done the office of right Chamberlaines, 1590brought you together, we will shut the doore after vs, and so leaue you. Who 1591no sooner departed, but Lysimachus the Gouernour began to demaund of her the 1592performaunce of that for which he came. When shee prostrating her selfe at 1593his feete, intreated him to take pitty of her, and from poynt to poynt (excepting 1594her birth, and death of her parents) discoursed vnto him the whole story of 1595her misfortunes: as that by the practise of Dyonysa, and cruelty of Leonine, 1596she should haue beene murthered. And how it pleased the Gods to rescue her 1597from that ruine by certaine Pyrates, who after solde her to this brothell, 1598where, most vnhappy, he was witnesse she remayned. Then gentle Sir, quoth 1599shee, since heauen hath been so gratious, to restore me from death, let not 1600their good to me, be a meanes for you, to be author of my more misfortune. 1601But the Gouernour suspecting these teares, but to be some new cunning, which 1602her matron the Bawde had instructed her in, to drawe him to a more large 1603expence: He as freely tolde her so and now beganne to be more rough with 1604her vrging her, that he was the Gouernour, whose authoritie coulde wincke 1605at those blemishes, her selfe, and that sinnefull house could cast vppon 1606her, or his displeasure punish at his owne pleasure, which displeasure of 1607mine, thy beauty shall not priuiledge thee from, nor my affection, which 1608hath drawen me vnto this place abate, if thou with further lingering 1609withstand me. By which wordes, she vnderstanding him to be as confident 1610in euill, as she was constant in good, she intreated him but to be heard, 1611and thus she beganne.

1612If as you say (my Lorde) you are the Gouernour, let not your authoritie, 1613which should teach you to rule others, be the meanes to make you mis-gouerne 1614your selfe: If the eminence of your place came vnto you by discent, and the 1615royalty of your blood, let not your life prooue your birth a bastard: If it 1616were throwne vpon you by opinion, make good, that opinion was the cause to 1617make you great. What reason is there in your Iustice, who hath power ouer 1618all, to vndoe any? If you take from mee mine honour, you are like him, that 1619makes a gappe into forbidden ground, after whome too many enter, and you are 1620guiltie of all their euilles: my life is yet vnspotted, my chastitie vnstained 1621in thought. Then if your violence deface this building, the workemanship of 1622heauen, made vp for good, and not to be the exercise of sinnes intemperaunce, 1623you do kill your owne honour, abuse your owne iustice, and impouerish me. Why 1624quoth Lysimachus, this house wherein thou liuest, is euen the receptacle of 1625all mens sinnes, and nurse of wickednesse, and how canst thou then be otherwise 1626then naught, that liuest in it? It is not good, answered Marina, when you that 1627are the Gouernour, who should liue well, the better to be bolde to punish euill, 1628doe knowe that there is such a roofe, and yet come vnder it. Is there a necessitie 1629(my yet good Lord) if there be fire before me, that I must strait then thither 1630flie and burne my selfe? Or if suppose this house (which too too many feele such 1631houses are) should be the Doctors patrimony, and Surgeons feeding; folowes it 1632therefore, that I must needs infect my self to giue them maintenance? O my good 1633Lord, kill me, but not deflower me, punish me how you please, so you spare my 1634chastitie, and since it is all the dowry that both the Gods haue giuen, and 1635men haue left to me, do not you take it from me; make me your seruant, I will 1636willingly obey you; make mee your bondwoman, I will accompt it freedome; let 1637me be the worst that is called vile, so I may still liue honest, I am content: 1638or if you thinke it is too blessed a happinesse to haue me so, let me euen now, 1639now in this minute die, and Ile accompt my death more happy than my birth. With 1640which wordes (being spoken vpon her knees) while her eyes were the glasses that 1641carried the water of her mis-hap, the good Gentlewoman being mooued, hee lift her 1642vp with his hands, and euen then imbraced her in his hart, saying aside: surely 1643this is Virtues image, or rather, vertues selfe, sent downe from heauen, a while 1644to raigne on earth, to teach vs what we should be. So in steede of willing her 1645to drie her eyes, he wiped the wet himselfe off, and could haue found in his 1646heart, with modest thoughts to haue kissed her, but that hee feared the offer 1647would offend her. This onely hee sayde, Lady, for such your vertues are, a 1648farre more worthy stile your beuty challenges, and no way lesse your beauty 1649can promise me that you are, I hither came with thoughtes intemperate, foule 1650and deformed, the which your paines so well haue laued, that they are now 1651white, continue still to all so, and for my parte, who hither came but to 1652haue payd the price, a peece of golde for your virginitie, now giue you twenty 1653to releeue your honesty. It shall become you still to be euen as you are, a 1654peece of goodnesse, the best wrought vppe, that euer Nature made, and if that 1655any shall inforce you ill, if you but send to me, I am your friend. With which 1656promise, leauing her presence, she most humbly thanked the Gods for the 1657preseruation of her chastitie, and the reformation of his mind.

1658Lysimachus though departed thus, intended not to leaue her so, but with 1659diligent eyes to attend, how shee behaued her selfe to all other, who should haue 1660admittance to her, and for that purpose, hauing power to commaund the Bawde, hee 1661placed himselfe in the next Chamber where he might heare, euen to a sillable, 1662whatsoere passed, where he was no sooner setled with a former charge giuen to the 1663bawd, that any man should haue accesse to her, but by turnes, he heard she had 1664also won others, and preserued herselfe from them, as she had formerly done 1665against him, gaining tenne times as much of profite by her prayers and teares, 1666as she should haue doone by prostituting her beauty to their willes: at last, 1667all of them being departed, and the house vnfrequented, onely of their owne 1668housholde, and of the Gouernour, the bawde standing ready at the doore, as hee 1669should goe out, making his obeysaunce vnto him as hee should returne, in hope 1670of his fee or rewarde, hee with an angry brow turned towards him, saying, 1671Villaine, thou hast a house heere, the weight of whose sinne would sincke the 1672foundation, euen vnto hell, did not the vertue of one that is lodged therein, 1673keepe it standing; and so, as it were inraged, giuing them nothing, he departed. 1674By which displeasure of his, the whole swarme of bawdes (as truely it was) ghessed, 1675that their new tenaunt, had not beene pliant to his will: and all rushing in 1676hastily vppon her, first taking away the golde which the charitie (and not 1677iniury of all who had beene there) had giuen her to releeue her with, they cried 1678against her, they should be all vndoone by her, their house would grow vncustomed, 1679and their trading would fall to decay, by her squeamishnesse, and want of 1680familiaritie to their Clients, resoluing now, that there was no way to bring her 1681vnto their bowe, but by hauing her rauished. For it is to be noted, not any that 1682the house besides Lysimachus, but euen as he did, so they in like manner rayled 1683against them, so forcibly had hir perswasions preuailed with them: whereupon, 1684for that purpose they gaue her vp to the Pandar, who first agreed for her, saying; 1685That he that had bargained for the whole ioynt, it was fittest for him to cut a 1686morsel from off the spit. So leauing them together, and telling him, they gaue 1687her vp to his power, to doe euen what he would with her: the man and wife (though 1688both bawdes) departed, when the pandar going to her, tolde her, that he, his 1689master, nor their antient family would as thus long they had beene, be vndoone 1690by ere a Puritane peece of them all. And therefore quoth he; Come on and resolue 1691your selfe without more whining, for I am but the bawdes seruant. The bawde hath 1692commaunded me, and euery seruant by the Indenture of his duety, is bound to obey 1693his master: So catching her rashly by the hand, as he would haue inforced her to 1694his will; she first calling on Diana patronesse of Chastitie to defend her, fell 1695likewise downe at his feete, and besought him but to heare her: which being graunted, 1696she demaunded of him what thing he could wish himselfe to be, which was more vile 1697than he was, or more hatefull than he would make himselfe to be? Why my master or 1698my mistris (quoth the villaine) I thinke, who haue all the sinnes subiect to 1699mankind raigning in them, and are (indeede) as bad as the Diuell himselfe: yet 1700(quoth Marina) thou goest about to be worse then they, and to doe an office at 1701their setting on, which thy master himselfe hath more pitty then to attempt, to 1702robbe me of mine honour, which in spite of them and thee, the Gods (who I hope 1703will protect it still) haue till this breathing protected, to leprous my chast 1704thoghts, with remembrance of so foule a deede, which thou then shalt haue doone, 1705to damne thine owne soule, by vndooing of mine. At which word, the Villaine being 1706strucke into some remorce, and standing in a pawse, Marina went forward, and tolde 1707him; If thou wantest golde, there is some for thee (part of that she had reserued 1708which before was giuen hir, from the bawdes knowledge:) or if thou wantest 1709maintenaunce, prouide mee but some residence in an honest house, and I haue 1710experience in many things which shall labour for thee, as namely, I am skilfull 1711in the seauen Liberall Sciences, well exercised in all studies, and dare approoue 1712this, that my skill in singing and playing on Instruments exceeds any in the citty: 1713therefore (quoth she) as thou before didst proclame my beuty in the market to the 1714open world, whereby to haue made me a common prostitute, so now agayne proclame my 1715vertues vnto them, and I doubt not but this honorable citty will affoord schollers 1716sufficient, the instructing of whome will returne profile enough, both to repay 1717the Maister what hee payed out for me, prouide an honester course for thee then 1718this thou liuest in; and giue a quiet content vnto my selfe. Sooth (quoth the 1719Villaine) being now mooued vnto much more compassion of her; If you haue (as you 1720say) these qualities, I will labour with my Master, and doe my best for your 1721release. If not (answered Marina, I giue thee free leaue to bring me backe againe, 1722and prostitute me to that course which was first pretended for me. In briefe, the 1723Villaine so laboured with the bawde his maister, that though hee woulde not giue her leaue 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 1725greeuances disturbe her, and withall, charged the Pander to set vp a Bill in the 1726Market place, of her excellencie in speaking, and in singing. At the report of 1727which there crowded as many to the bawdes great profite to be delighted with her 1728woorth, as there came before to haue made spoyle of her vertue, and not any man 1729but gaue her money largely, and departed contented, onely aboue the rest the Lorde 1730Lysimachus had euermore an especiall regarde in the preseruation of her safety no 1731otherwise than if she had beene descended from himselfe, and rewarded the villaine 1732very liberally for the diligent care hee had ouer her.

1734How Pericles after foureteene yeeres absence, arriued at Tharsus, and not 1735finding his daughter, lamented her supposed death: and how taking ship againe, he 1736was by crosse windes driuen to Meteline, where his daughter Marina was: and how by 1737the meanes of Prince Lysimachus comming aboorde his shippe to comforte him, he came 1738to the knowledge of his lost daughter, and also of his wife Thaysa.

1739Hauing thus preserued Marina, our Story giues vs now leaue to returne againe to 1740Prince Pericles, who after foureteene yeares absence arriued at Tharsus, and was receiued 1741into the house of Cleon and Dyonysa, with whome hee had left his yoong daughter Marina to 1742be fostered vp. At the newes of whose comming, Cleon and Dyonysa againe apparrelled 1743themselues in mournfull habites, went out to meete him: who when Pericles beheld in 1744so sad an out-side; My trusty friends, what cause inforceth you to giue so sad a welcome 1745to my entertainement? O my good Lord, answered Dyonysa, would any tongue but ours might be 1746the herald of your mis-hap: but sorrowes pipes will burst, haue they not vent, and you of 1747force must knowe 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 inagony a long 1749time standing amased, with his eyes intentiuely fixed on the ground, and at length recouering 1750himselfe, and taking breath, hee first cast his eyes vppe to heauen, saying; O you Gods! 1751extreamity of passion dooth make mee almost ready to accuse you of iniustice. And then 1752throwing his eyes greedily vpon her. But woman, quoth hee, If (as thou sayest) my most 1753deere Marina be dead, is the money and the treasure which I also left with you for her, 1754perished with her? When she aunswered; Some is, and some yet remaineth. And as for your 1755daughter (my Lord) lest you shoulde anie way suspect vs, we haue sufficient witnesse: for 1756our Citizens being mindefull of your benefites bestowed vppon them, haue erected vnto her 1757a monument of brasse fast by yours. And when she had so said, she brought foorth such money, 1758iewells, and apparrell as it pleased her to say were remayning of Marinaes store. Wherevppon 1759Pericles giuing credite to this report of her death, he commaunded his seruants to take vp 1760what she had brought, and beare them to his shippes, while he himselfe would goe visite his 1761daughters monument. Which when he beheld, and had read the Epitaph, as before written, his 1762affection brake out into his eies, and he expressed more actuall sorrow for the losse of 1763her then Inditement can expresse: first, tumbling himselfe vppon her monument, he then 1764fell into a swownd, as if, since he might not leaue all his life with her, yet he would 1765leaue halfe at least, from which trance being at the length recouered, hee apparrelles 1766himselfe in sacke-cloth, running hastily vnto his shippes, desireth the Sea to take him 1767into their wombe, since neither land nor water was fortunate vnto him; for the one had 1768bereft him of a daughter, the other of a wife. But as befitted them, being most careful 1769of his safty they vsed their best perswasions, to asswage this tempest of his sorrow; 1770presently, as much as might be in such a case, they preuayled, and partly by time, which 1771is a curer of all cares, continually mittigated some part of the griefe. (When hee perceiuing 1772the winde to stand fitte for their departure, hee hoysed vppe sailes, and gaue farewell to 1773the shoare, nor had they long sailed in their course, but the winde came about into a 1774contrary quarter, and blew so fiercely that it troubled both sea and shippes, the raine fell 1775fiercely from aboue, and the sea wrought woonderously vnderneath, so that the tempest being 1776terrible for the time, it was in that extreamitie thought fittest to strike sayle, to let the 1777Helme goe, and to suffer the shippe to driue with the tide, whither it would please the gods to 1778direct it: But as Ioy euermore succeedeth Heauinesse, so was this sharpe storme occasion of a 1779ioyfull meeting, betwixt this sorrowful father, and his lost daughter; for while Prince Pericles 1780shippe is thus gouerned at randon, by fortune it striketh vppon the shoare of the Cittie 1781Meteline, where now Marina remained, of whose death he (as before) being fully perswaded, 1782in whose life he had hope his decayed comfortes should againe haue had new growth. And being 1783now agayne at sea, he vowed to himselfe neuer more to haue fellowshippe or conference with 1784any man, charging all his folowers, of whome Helycanus was one, that none of them vpon the 1785paine of his displeasure (and who is ignorant that the displeasure of kings is as daungerous 1786as death) should dare to speake vnto him: no not so much as they who attended him with meate, 1787and withall commaunded them, that they should not ordayne for him any more but so small a 1788competence, as might euen scarcely maintaine nature, accompting now that life which he possessed, 1789tedious to him, and wishing death in the most vnfriendly languishment. In which state while he 1790consisted, pining of his body, and perplexed in minde, it happened, that at one selfe same time 1791Lord Helycanus going from the Princes shippe, and landing on the shoare, the Gouenour Lysimachus, 1792who (as before is mentioned) tenderd Marina, was standing at the hauen, and noting Pericles ships 1793riding there at anker, he beganne with himselfe to commend the comelinesse of the vessells, and 1794applaude the state they vphelde in their burthens, and in especially, that of the Admirall 1795wherein the Prince himselfe was, who string Helycanus come on shoare, and his graue and reuerent 1796countenaunce promising him, to be a father of experience, and worthy of his conference, hee in 1797curteous manner saluted him, and demaunded of him, of whence those shippes for sir quoth he, 1798by their armes and ensignes I perceiue they are strangers to our harbours, as also that it would 1799please him to deliuer to him who was the owner of them, when Helycanus, as in the whole Storie, 1800discoursed vnto him his misfortunes, as also of his former woorth, and his present languishment, 1801from which he could not be remooued, neither by his wisedome, nor by the counsell of his friends. 1802When Lysimachus pittying his ruine, intreated Helycanus that he might speake with him, whereby to 1803try if his perswasions had power preuayle with him more then the will of himselfe, or power of his 1804subiects. Which being by Helycanus graunted, he foorthwith conducted him downe where his Maister 1805lay: whom when Lysimachus beheld, so attired from the ordinary habite of other men, as with a 1806long ouer-growne beard, diffused hayre, vndecent nayles on his fingers, and himselfe lying vppon 1807his cowch groueling on his face. He somewhat astonished at the strangenes thereof, caled vnto 1808him with a soft voice, Prince Pericles, who hearing himselfe named, and thinking it to be some 1809of his men, that called vpon him contrary to his commaunde-ment, hee arose vp sodainely with a 1810fierce countenaunce: but seeing him to be a stranger, verie comely and honourably attyred, hee 1811shruncke himselfe downe vppon his pillow, and held his peace. When Lysimachus demaunded of 1812Helycanus if it were his custome to be so silent to all men. Sir, it is quoth he, and hath 1813continued so for the space of this moneth, neither dare any of vs his subiects, though we suffer 1814much sorrow for him, by our perswasions seeke to alter him. Now surely quoth Lysimachus, though 1815his misfortunes haue beene great, and by which he hath great cause for this sorrow, it is great 1816pitty he should continue thus peruerse and obstinate, or so noble a gentleman come to so 1817dishonorable a death: and thereuppon bethinking with himselfe what honourable meanes he might 1818vse to recouer him. He sodainely remembring the wisedom that he had known Marina had in perswasion: 1819and hauing heard since of her excellent skill in musicke, singing and dauncing: he by the consent of 1820Helycanus caused her to be sent for, resoluing with himselfe, that if the excellencie of her 1821ministry had no power to worke on him, all phisicke was in vaine, and he from thence would resigne 1822him ouer to his graue. The messenger speedily is returned, bringing Marina along with him: whome 1823when Lysimachus beheld, Marina quoth he, let me request of thee, thy help and vttermost knowledge 1824in comforting the owner of this shippe which lieth in darkenesse, and will receiue no comfort, nor 1825come abroade into the light, for the sorrow that he conceiueth through the losse of a wife and a 1826daughter. From which if thou recouer him, and to his former health restore him, I will, as I am 1827a Gentleman, giue thee in recompence thirtie sistercies of golde, and as many of siluer, and 1828though the bawd hath bought thee, according to the laws of our citty, from whom no authoritie 1829can compell thee, yet for thirtie dayes will I redeeme thee. Which when Marina heard, shee went 1830boldely downe into the cabine to him, and with a milde voyce saluted him, saying; God saue you 1831sir, and be of good comfort, for an innocent Virgin, whose life hath bin distressed by shipwrack, 1832and her chastity by dishonesty, and hath yet bin preserued from both, thus curteously saluteth 1833thee: but perceuing him to yeeld her no answer, she began to record in verses, and therewithall 1834to sing so sweetely, that Pericles, notwithstanding his great sorrow, woondered at her, at last, 1835taking vp another instrument vnto his eares she preferred this.

1836Amongst the harlots foule I walke,

1837Yet harlot none am I;

1838The Rose amongst the Thornes doth grow,

1839And is not hurt thereby.

1840The Thiefe that stole me sure I thinke,

1841Is slaine before this time.

1842A Bawde me bought, yet am I not

1843Defilde by fleshly crime:

1844Nothing were pleasanter to me,

1845Then parents mine to know.

1846I am the issue of a King,

1847My blood from Kings dooth flowe:

1848In time the heauens may mend my state,

1849And send a better day,

1850For sorrow addes vnto our griefes,

1851But helps not any way:

1852Shew gladnesse in your countenaunce,

1853Cast vp your cheerefull eies,

1854That God remaines, that once of nought

1855Created Earth and Skies.

1856With this Musicke of Marinaes, as with no delight else was he a whit altered, but 1857lay groueling on his face, onely casting an eye vppon her, as hee were rather discontented 1858than delighted with her indeuour. Whereupon she beganne with morall precepts to reprooue him, 1859and tolde him, that hee was borne a Prince, whose dignity being to gouerne others, it was most 1860foule in him to misgouerne himselfe. Which while he continued in that sullen estate, he did no 1861lesse, thus to mourne for the losse of a wife and childe, or at any of his owne misfortunes, 1862approoued that he was an enemy to the authoritie of the heauens, whose power was to dispose of 1863him and his, at their pleasure: and that it was as vnfitte for him to repine (for his continuing 1864sorrow shewed he did no lesse) against their determinations and their vnaltered willes, as it 1865was for the Giants to make warre against the Gods, who were confounded in their enterprise. Not 1866fitte to sorrow, quoth he, rising vp like a Cloude, that bespeakes thunder; presumptuous bewty 1867in a childe, how darest thou vrge so much? and therewithall, in this rash distemperature, strucke 1868her on the face. When she, who neuer vntill that time knew what blowes were, fell sodainely in a 1869swowne: but beeing againe recouered, shee cryed out; O humilitie! ordained especially for Princes, 1870who hauing power ouer all, shuld contemne none, whither art thou fled? then weeping a while; And 1871O you Gods! creators both of heauen and earth, looke vppon my afflictions, and take compassion 1872vppon me, that am vnfortunate in all things, I haue bin tossed from wrong to iniurie, I was borne 1873amongest the waues and troublesome tempests of the Sea, my mother died in paines and pangs of 1874child-birth, and buriall was denyed her on the earth, whome my father adorned with Iewelles layd 1875golde at her head, and siluer at her feete, and inclosing her in a Chest, committed her to the 1876Sea: As for me vnfortunate wretch, my father, who with princely furniture, put me (in trust) to 1877Cleon and Dyonysa, who commanded a seruant of theirs to murder me, from whose cruelty by Pirates 1878I was rescewed, brought by them to this Citty, and sold to haue beene hackneyd by a common Bawde, 1879though (I thanke the heauens) I haue preserued my chastity; and now after al these crosses, for 1880my curtesies to be strucke thus to bleeding! O cruell fate! By which tale of hers, Pericles being 1881mooued, since by all the circumstances he ghessed she was his childe, and yet not knowing whether 1882he might beleeue himselfe to be awake, or in a dreame, he beganne agayne to capitulate with her, 1883of her former relation, as namely, where she was borne, who were her parents, and what her name 1884was. To the which she answered, My name is Marina, and so called because I was borne vpon the sea. 1885O my Marina cryed out Pericles, being strucke into such an extasie of ioy that hee was not able 1886to containe himselfe! willing her agayne to discourse vnto him the storie of her misfortunes, for 1887hee could not heare too much. Which she obeying him in, and he knowing her to be his childe, 1888seeing that the supposed dead was risen again, he falls on hir necke, and kisses her, calles 1889vpon Helycanus to come vnto him, shewes him his daughter, biddes him to kneele to her, thanketh 1890Lysimachus that so fortunately had brought her to begette life in the father who begot her; so 1891one while weeping at others ioying, and his senses being masterd by a gentle conquerour, in that 1892extreamitie of passion, he fell into a slumber: in which sweet sleepe of his, hee was by Diana, 1893warned to hie to Ephesus: and there vpon the Altare of that Goddesse to offer vppe his sacrifice 1894before the Priests, and there to discourse the whole progresse of his life: which he remembring, 1895being awake, he accordingly shipped himselfe with Lysimachus, Marina, and his owne subiects to 1896perfourme. Who landing at Ephesus, and giuing 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 Altare, this 1898was the substance of his sacrifice, I Pericles borne Prince Tyre, who hauing in youth attained 1899to all kinde of knowledge, resolued the Riddle of Antiochus, to the intent to haue married his 1900daughter, whome he most shamefully defiled. To preserue my selfe from whose anger, I fled to sea, 1901suffered shipwracke, was curteously entertained by good Symonides king of Pentapolis, and after 1902espoused his faire daughter Thaysa. At the naming of whome, she her selfe being by, could not 1903choose but starte: for in this Temple was she placed to be a Nunne, by Lord Cerimon, who preserued 1904her life. But Pericles going on, when Antiochus and his daughter, quoth he, by lightning strucke 1905dead from heauen, I conducted my Queene with me from her fathers Court, with purpose to receiue 1906againe my kingdome: where vpon the sea shee was deliuered of this my daughter, in that trauell 1907she died, whom I inclosed in a Chest, and threw it into the Sea. When Thaysa standing by, and no 1908longer being able to temper her affections, being assured he was her Lord, shee ranne hastily 1909vnto him, imbraced him in her armes, and would haue kissed him. Which when Pericles sawe, hee 1910was mooued with disdaine, and thrust her from him, accusing her for lightnes, whose modesty and 1911good grace hee at his first entrance did commend, when she falling at his feete, and powring 1912foorth her teares aboundantly, gladnesse compelled her to crie out, O my Lord Pericles, deale 1913not vngently with me, I am your wife, daughter vnto Symonides, my name is Thaysa, you were my 1914Schoolemaister, and instructed me in musicke, you are that Prince whome I loued, not for 1915concupiscence, but desire of wisedome, I am she which was deliuered and died at the sea, and 1916by your owne hands was buryed in the deepes; which wordes of hers, Lord Cerimon standing by, 1917he was ready to auerre, but it needed not: for Pericles, though at the first astonished, ioy 1918had now so reuiued his spirites, that hee knew her to be herselfe: but throwing his head into 1919her bosome, hauing nothing but this to vtter, he cried aloude, O you heauens! my misfortunes 1920were now againe blessings, since wee are agayne contracted; so giuing his daughter to her 1921armes to embrace her as a child and Lysimachus to enfolde her as a wife, and giuing order the 1922solemnity of marriage should strait be prouided for: he then caused the bawd to be burnt, who 1923with so much labor had sought to violate her princely chastitie, whilest Marina rewarded the 1924pandar, who had beene so faithfull to hir: and then after he had scene hir mariage with Lisimachus, 1925he leaueth Ephesus, and intendes for Tyre, taking Pentapolis in his way, where by the death of 1926good Symonides, as lawful heire, he was made soueraigne. He also highly rewarded the poore 1927Fisher-men, who had relieued him. From thence he arriued at Tharsus, where hee reuenged himselfe 1928of Cleon and Dyonysa, by stoning them to death. From thence to Tyre, where peaceably he was 1929receiued into his kingdome, and giuen also possession of all the 20 territories of Antiochus, 1930where by his wife, though in the declining of both their yeeres, it pleased the Gods to blesse 1931him with a sonne, who growing to the lusty strength of youth, and the father declining to his 1932graue, age being no longer able to be sustained by the benefite of nature, fell into certayne 1933colde and dry diseases: in which case, the knowledge of his Physitions, could stand him in 1934little steade, eyther by their cunning or experience, (so as no remedie being to be found against 1935death) being in perfect memorie, he departed this life in the armes of his beloued Thaysa, and 1936in the middest of his friendes, nobles, alies and children in great honour, his kingdome of 1937Tyrus he gaue by will to Lysimachus and his daughter Marina, and to their heires after them 1938for euer, who liued long together, and had much comfort by their issue. Vnto his Queene Thaysa 1939he gaue the two kingdomes of Antioch and Pentapolis for tearme of her life, and at her death 1940to descend to her yong sonne Symonides. But Thaysa who could not then be yong since Pericles 1941died olde, continued not long in her widows estate, but pining much with sorrow, and wearing 1942with age, forsooke the present worlde, leauing her two kingdomes (according to his fathers will) 1943to her yoong sonne Symonides.

1944FINIS