William Shakespeare - The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The o’erpress’d spirits. I heard of an Egyptian

That had nine hours lien dead,

Who was by good appliance recovered.

[Re-enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire.

Well said, well said; the fire and cloths.

The rough and woeful music that we have,

Cause it to sound, beseech you

The viol once more: how thou stirr’st, thou block!

The music there! — I pray you, give her air.

Gentlemen,

This queen will live: nature awakes; a warmth

Breathes out of her: she hath not been entranced

Above five hours: see how she gins to blow

Into life’s flower again!

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

The heavens,

Through you, increase our wonder and set up

Your fame for ever.

CERIMON.

She is alive; behold,

Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels

Which Pericles hath lost,

Begin to part their fringes of bright gold;

The diamonds of a most praised water

Do appear, to make the world twice rich.

Live,

And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,

Rare as you seem to be.

[She moves.]

THAISA.

O dear Diana,

Where am I? Where’s my lord? What world is this?

SECOND GENTLEMAN.

Is not this strange?

FIRST GENTLEMAN.

Most rare.

CERIMON.

Hush, my gentle neighbours!

Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her.

Get linen: now this matter must be look’d to,

For her, relapse is mortal. Come, come;

And AEsculapius guide us!

[Exeunt, carrying her away.]

SCENE III. Tarsus. A room in Cleon’s house.

[Enter Pericles, Cleon, Dionyza, and Lychorida with Marina in her arms.]

PERICLES.

Most honour’d Cleon, I must needs be gone;

My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands

In a litigious peace. You, and your lady,

Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods

Make up the rest upon you!

CLEON.

Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,

Yet glance full wanderingly on us.

DIONYZA.

O, your sweet queen!

That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither,

To have bless’d mine eyes with her!

PERICLES.

We cannot but obey

The powers above us. Could I rage and roar

As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end

Must be as ‘tis. My gentle babe Marina, whom,

For she was born at sea, I have named so, here

I charge your charity withal, leaving her

The infant of your care; beseeching you

To give her princely training, that she may be

Manner’d as she is born.

CLEON.

Fear not, my lord, but think

Your grace, that fed my country with your corn,

For which the people’s prayers still fall upon you,

Must in your child be thought on. If neglection

Should therein make me vile, the common body,

By you relieved, would force me to my duty:

But if to that my nature need a spur,

The gods revenge it upon me and mine,

To the end of generation!

PERICLES.

I believe you;

Your honour and your goodness teach me to ‘t,

Without your vows. Till she be married, madam,

By bright Diana, whom we honour, all

Unscissar’d shall this hair of mine remain,

Though I show ill in ‘t. So I take my leave

Good madam, make me blessed in your care

In bringing up my child.

DIONYZA.

I have one myself,

Who shall not be mere dear to my respect

Than yours, my lord.

PERICLES.

Madam, my thanks and prayers.

CLEON.

We’ll bring your grace e’en to the edge o’ the shore,

Then give you up to the mask’d Neptune and

The gentlest winds of heaven.

PERICLES.

I will embrace

Your offer. Come, dearest madam. O, no tears,

Lychorida, no tears:

Look to your little mistress, on whose grace

You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. Ephesus. A room in Cerimon’s house.

[Enter Cerimon and Thaisa.]

CERIMON.

Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels,

Lay with you in your coffer: which are now

At your command. Know you the character?

THAISA.

It is my lord’s.

That I was shipp’d at sea, I well remember,

Even on my eaning time; but whether there

Deliver’d, by the holy gods,

I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles,

My wedded lord, I ne’er shall see again,

A vestal livery will I take me to,

And never more have joy.

CERIMON.

Madam, if this you purpose as ye speak,

Diana’s temple is not distant far,

Where you may abide till your date expire.

Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine

Shall there attend you.

THAISA.

My recompense is thanks, that’s all;

Yet my good will is great, though the gift small.

[Exeunt.]

ACT IV.

[Enter Gower.]

GOWER.

Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre,

Welcomed and settled to his own desire.

His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,

Unto Diana there a votaress.

Now to Marina bend your mind,

Whom our fast-growing scene must find

At Tarsus, and by Cleon train’d

In music, letters; who hath gain’d

Of education all the grace,

Which makes her both the heart and place

Of general wonder. But, alack,

That monster envy, oft the wrack

Of earned praise, Marina’s life

Seeks to take off by treason’s knife.

And in this kind hath our Cleon

One daughter, and a wench full grown,

Even ripe for marriage-rite; this maid

Hight Philoten: and it is said

For certain in our story, she

Would ever with Marina be:

Be’t when she weaved the sleided silk

With fingers long, small, white as milk;

Or when she would with sharp needle wound,

The cambric, which she made more sound

By hurting it; or when to the lute

She sung, and made the night-bird mute

That still records with moan; or when

She would with rich and constant pen

Vail to her mistress Dian; still

This Philoten contends in skill

With absolute Marina: so

With the dove of Paphos might the crow

Vie feathers white. Marina gets

All praises, which are paid as debts,

And not as given. This so darks

In Philoten all graceful marks,

That Cleon’s wife, with envy rare,

A present murderer does prepare

For good Marina, that her daughter

Might stand peerless by this slaughter.

The sooner her vile thoughts to stead,

Lychorida, our nurse, is dead:

And cursed Dionyza hath

The pregnant instrument of wrath

Prest for this blow. The unborn event

I do commend to your content:

Only I carry winged time

Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;

Which never could I so convey,

Unless your thoughts went on my way.

Dionyza does appear,

With Leonine, a murderer.

[Exit.]

Scene I. Tarsus. An open place near the seashore.

[Enter Dionyza and Leonine.]

DIONYZA.

Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do ‘t:

‘Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.

Thou canst not do a thing in the world so soon,

To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience,

Which is but cold, inflaming love i’ thy bosom,

Inflame too nicely; nor let pity, which

Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be

A soldier to thy purpose.

LEONINE.

I will do’t; but yet she is a goodly creature.

DIONYZA. The fitter, then, the gods should have her. Here she comes weeping for her only mistress’ death. Thou art resolved?

LEONINE.

I am resolved.

[Enter Marina, with a basket of flowers.]

MARINA.

No, I will rob Tellus of her weed