Enter GOWER.

A Pander and his Wife.
BOULT, servant to the Pander.
GOWER, as Chorus.

The Daughter of Antiochus.
DIONYZA, wife to Cleon.

THAISA, daughter to Simonides,
MARINA, daughter to Pericles and Thaisa.
LYCHORIDA, nurse to Marina.
DIANA.

Lords, Knights, Sailors, Pirates, Fishermen, and Messengers.

Before the Palace of Antioch.

To sing a song of old was sung,
From ashes ancient Gower is come;
Assuming man's infirmities,

To glad your ear, and please your eyes.

It hath been sung, at festivals,

On ember-eves, and holy-ales;

And lords and ladies, in their lives
Have read it for restoratives.

The purpose is to make men glorious;
Et bonum, quo antiquius, eo melius.
If you, born in these latter times,
When wit's more ripe, accept my rhymes,
And that to hear an old man sing,
May to your wishes pleasure bring,
I life would wish, and that I might
Waste it for you, like taper-light.
This Antioch then, Antiochus the Great
Built up, this city, for his chiefest seat;
The fairest in all Syria

(I tell you what mine authors say):
This king unto him took a pheere,
Who died and left a female heir,
So buxom, blythe, and full of face,
As Heaven had lent her all his grace:
With whom the father liking took,
And her to incest did provoke;

Bad child, worse father! to entice his own
To evil, should be done by none.
By custom, what they did begin
Was with long use account'd no sin.
The beauty of this sinful dame
Made many princes thither frame,
To seek her as a bedfellow,
In marriage-pleasures playfellow:
Which to prevent, he made a law
(To keep her still, and men in awe),
That whoso ask'd her for his wife,
His riddle told not, lost his life:
So for her many a wight did die,
As yon grim looks do testily.

What ensues, to the judgment of your eye
I give my cause, who best can justify. [Exit.

SCENE I.-The Palace of Antioch. Enter ANTIOCHUS, PERICLES, and Attendants. Ant. Young Prince of Tyre, you have at large receiv'd

The danger of the task you undertake:

Per. I have, Antiochus, and with a soul
Embolden'd with the glory of her praise,
Think death no hazard, in this enterprise. [Music.
Ant. Bring in our daughter, clothed like a
bride,

For the embracements, even of Jove himself;
At whose conception (till Lucina reign'd)
Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence
The senate-house of planets all did sit,
To knit in her their best perfections.

Enter the Daughter of Antiochus.
Per. See where she comes, apparell'd like the
spring,

Graces her subject, and her thoughts the king
Of every virtue gives renown to men!
Her face the book of praises, where is read
Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence
Sorrow were ever 'ras'd, and testy wrath
Could never be her mild companion.

Ye gods that made me man, and sway in love,
That have inflam'd desire within my breast
To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree,
Or die in the adventure, be my helps,
As I am son and servant to your will,
To compass such a boundless happiness!
Ant. Prince Pericles-

Per. That would be son to great Antiochus.
Ant. Before thee stands this fair Hesperides,
With golden fruit but dangerous to be touch'd;
For death-like dragons here affright thee hard:
Her face, like heav'n, enticeth thee to view
Her countless glory, which desert must gain:
And which, without desert, because thine eye
Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die.
Yon sometime famous princes, like thyself
Drawn by report, adventurous by desire,
Tell thee with speechless tongues, and semblance
pale,

That, without covering save yon field of stars,

Here they stand martyrs, slain in Cupid's wars;
And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist
For going on Death's net, whom none resist.

Per. Antiochus, I thank thee, who has taught
My frail mortality to know itself,
And by those fearful objects to prepare
This body, like to them, to what I must:
For death remember'd should be like a mirror,
Who tells us, life's but breath, to trust it error.
I'll make my will then; and, as sick men do
Who know the world, see heav'n, but feeling woe,
Gripe not at earthly joys, as erst they did;
So I bequeath a happy peace to you
And all good men, as every prince should do;
My riches to the earth from whence they came;
But my unspotted fire of love to you.

[To the Daughter of Antiochus. Thus ready for the way of life or death, I wait the sharpest blow.

Ant. Scorning advice; read the conclusion then; Which read and not expounded, 'tis decreed, As these before, so thou thyself shalt bleed. Daugh. Of all 'say'd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous!

Of all 'say'd yet, I wish thee happiness!

Per. Like a bold champion I assume the lists, Nor ask advice of any other thought,

But faithfulness and courage.

THE RIDDLE.

I am no viper, yet I feed

On mother's flesh which did me breed;
I sought a husband, in which labour,
I found that kindness in a father.
He's father, son, and husband mild,
I mother, wife, and yet his child.
How they may be, and yet in two,
As you will live, resolve it you.

Sharp physic is the last: but O, ye powers!
That give heav'n countless eyes to view men's acts,
Why cloud they not their sights perpetually,
If this be true, which makes me pale to read it ?
Fair glass of light, I lov'd you, and could still,

[Takes hold of the hand of the Princess.
Were not this glorious casket stor'd with ill:
But I must tell you,- now, my thoughts revolt;
For he's no man on whom perfections wait,
That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate.
You 're a fair viol, and your sense the strings;
Who, finger'd to make man his lawful music,
Would draw heav'n down, and all the gods to
hearken;

But being play'd upon before your time,
Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime:"
Good sooth, I care not for you.

Ant. Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life, For that's an article within our law,

As dangerous as the rest. Your time's expir'd;
Either expound now, or receive your sentence.
Per. Great king,

Few love to hear the sins they love to act;
Twould 'braid yourself too near for me to tell it.
Who hath a book of all that monarchs do,
He's more secure to keep it shut, than shown:
For vice repeated is like the wand'ring wind,
Blows dust in others' eyes, to spread itself;
And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,
The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear;
To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole

Kings are earth's gods: in vice their law's their will;

And if Jove stray, who dare say Jove doth ill?
It is enough you know; and it is fit,

What, being more known, grows worse, to smother it.

All love the womb that their first being bred, Then give my tongue like leave to love my head. Ant. Heaven that I had thy head! he has found the meaning!

But I will gloze with him. [4side.] Young
Prince of Tyre,

Though by the tenor of our strict edict,
Your exposition misinterpreting,

We might proceed to cancel of your days;
Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree
As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise:
Forty days longer we do respite you,
If by which time our secret be undone,
This mercy shows we'll joy in such a son:
And, until then, your entertain shall be,
As doth befit our honour, and your worth.

[Exeunt ANT., his Daughter, and Attendants.
Per. How courtesy would seem to cover sin!
When what is done is like an hyprocite,
The which is good in nothing but in sight.
If it be true that I interpret false,
Then were it certain, you were not so bad,
As with foul incest to abuse your soul;
Where now you're both a father and a son,
By your untimely claspings with your child
(Which pleasure fits a husband, not a father)
And she an eater of her mother's flesh,
By the defiling of her parent's bed;

And both like serpents are, who though they fee.
On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed.
Antioch, farewell! for wisdom sees, those inen
Blush not in actions blacker than the night,
Will shun no course to keep them from the light
One sin, I know, another doth provoke;
Murder's as near to lust, as flame to smoke.
Poison and treason are the hands of sin,
Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame:
Then, lest my life be cropp'd to keep you clear,
By flight I'll shun the danger which I fear. [Exit.
Re-enter ANTIOCHUS.

Ant. He hath found the meaning, for the which

Mes. My lord, Prince Pericles is fled.

Ant. As thou Wilt live, fly after; and like an arrow, shot From a well-experienc'd archer, hits the mark His eye doth level at, so do thou ne'er return, Unless thou say 'st, Prince Pericles is dead.

Thal. My lord, if I can get him within my pistol's length, I'll make him sure enough: so farewell to your highness. [Exit.

Ant. Thaliard, adieu! till Pericles be dead, My heart can lend no succour to my head.

SCENE II.-Tyre.

[Exeunt.

Enter PERICLES, HELICANUS, and other Lords. Per. Let none disturb us: why should this charge of thoughts,

The sad companion, dull-ey'd melancholy, By me [be] so usd a guest, as not an hour, In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night (The tomb where grief should sleep), can breed me quiet?

Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun them,

And danger which I feared, is at Antioch,
Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here;
Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits,
Nor yet the other's distance comfort me:
Then it is thus; the passions of the mind,
That have their first conception by mis-dread,
Have after-nourishment and life by care;
And what was first but fear what might be done,
Grows elder now, and cares it be not done.
And so with me;-the great Antiochus
(Gainst whom I am too little to contend,
Since he's so great, can make his will his act)
Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence;
Nor boots it me to say I honour him,
If he suspect I may dishonour him:

And what may make him blush in being known,
He'll stop the course by which it might be known;
With hostile forces he'll o'erspread the land,
And with the stint of war will look so huge,
Amazement shall drive courage from the state;
Our men be vanquish'd, ere they do resist,
And subjects punish'd that ne'er thought offence:
Which care of them, not pity of myself
(Who am no more but as the tops of trees,
Which fence the roots they grow by, and defend
them),

Makes both my body pine, and soul to languish,
And punish that before, that he would punish.
1 Lord. Joy and all comfort in your sacred
breast!

2 Lord. And keep your mind, till you return to us, Peaceful and comfortable!

Hel. Peace, peace, and give experience tongue:
They do abuse the king that flatter him,
For flattery is the bellows blows up sin;
The thing the which is flatter'd, but a spark,
To which that spark gives heat and stronger
glowing;

Whereas reproof, obedient and in order,
Fits kings as they are men, for they may err.
When Signior Sooth here doth proclaim a peace,
He flatters you, makes war upon your life:
Prince, pardon me, or strike me if you please,
I cannot be much lower than my knees.

Per. All leave us else; but let your cares o'erlook What shipping, and what lading's in our haven, And then return to us. Helicanus, thou

Hast moved us what seest thou in our looks?

Hel. An angry brow, dread lord.

Per. If there be such a dart in princes' frowns, How durst thy tongue move anger to our face? Hel. How dare the plants look up to heaven, from whence

They have their nourishment.

Per. Thou know'st I have power to take thy life from thee.

Hel. I have ground the axe myself; do but you strike the blow.

Per. Rise, prithee, rise: sit down, thou art no flatterer;

I thank thee for it; and heaven forbid,
That kings should let their ears hear their faults

hid!

Fit counsellor, and servant for a prince,
Who by thy wisdom inak'st a prince thy servant,
What wouldst thou have me do?

Hel.

To bear with patience Such griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself. Per. Thou speak'st like a physician, Helicanus; That minister'st a potion unto ine, That thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself. Attend me then; I went to Antioch, Whereas, thou know'st, against the face of death, I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty, From whence an issue I might propagate;. Are arms to princes, and bring joys to subjects. Her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder; The rest (hark in thine ear) as black as incest; Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father Seem'd not to strike, but smooth: but thou know'st

this,

"Tis time to fear, when tyrants seem to kiss.
Which fear so grew in me, I hither fled,
Under the covering of a careful night,
Who seem'd my good protector: and, being here,
Bethought me what was past, what might succeed
I knew him tyrannous, and tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than the years⚫
And should he doubt it (as no doubt he doth),
That I should open to the listening air,
How many worthy princes' bloods were shed,
To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope,-
To lop that doubt, he'll fill this land with arms,
And make pretence of wrong that I have done him
When all, for mine, if I may call 't offence,
Must feel war's blow, who spares not innocence:
Which love to all (of which thyself art one,
Who now reprov'st me for it)—

Hel. Alas, sir!

Per. Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks,

Musings into my mind, with thousand doubts
How I might stop this tempest ere it came;
And finding little comfort to relieve them,
I thought it princely charity to grieve them.
Hel. Well, my lord, since you have given me
leave to speak,

Freely will I speak. Antiochus you fear;
And justly too, I think; you fear the tyrant,
Who either by public war, or private treason,
Will take away your life.

Therefore, my lord, go travel for a while,
Till that his rage and anger be forgot;
Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life:
Your rule direct to any; if to me,

Day serves not light more faithful than I'll be.
Per. I do not doubt thy faith;

But should he wrong my liberties in my absence--
Hel. We'll mingle our bloods together in the

earth,

From whence we had our being and our birth.

Per. Tyre, I now look from thee then, and to
Tharsus

Intend my travel, where I'll hear from thee;
And by whose letters I'll dispose myself.
The care I had and have of subjects' good,
On thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it.
I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath;
Who shuns not to break one, will sure crack both :
But in our orbs we'll live so round and safe,
That time of both this truth shall ne'er convince,
Thou show'dst a subject's shine, Ia true prince.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III. Enter THALIARD.

Thal. So this is Tyre, and this the court. Here must I kill King Pericles; and if I do it not, I am sure to be hanged at home: 'tis dangerous. Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, that, being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired he might know none of his secrets. Now do I see he had some reason for it: for if a king bid a man be a villain, he is bound by the indenture of his oath to be one. Hush, here come the lords of Tyre.

Enter HELICANUS, ESCANES, and other Lords of Tyre.

Hel. You shall not need, my fellow-peers of Tyre, Further to question me of your king's departure. His seal'd commission, left in trust with me, Doth speak sufficiently, he's gone to travel. Thal. How! the king gone!

[Aside.

Hel. If further yet you will be satisfied, Why, as it were unlicensed of your loves He would depart, I'll give some light unto you. Being at Antioch.

[Aside.

Thal. What from Antioch?
Hel. Royal Antiochus (on what cause I know
not)

Took some displeasure at him, at least he judg'd so:
And doubting lest he had err'd or sinn'd,
To show his sorrow he'd correct himself;
So puts himself unto the shipman's toil,
With whom each minute threatens life or death.
Thal. Well, I perceive

I shall not be hang'd now, although I would;
But since he's gone, the king sure must please
He 'scap'd the land, to perish at the sea.---
I'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre.
Hel. Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.
Thal. From him I come

With mossage to the princely Pericles;
But since my landing I have understood,
Your lord hath betook himself to unknown travels;
My message must return from whence it came.
Hel. We have no reason to desire it,
Commended to our master, not to us:
Yet ere you shall depart, this we desire,
As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.

SCENE IV.-Tharsus.

[Exeunt.

Enter CLEON, DIONYZA, and others. Cle. My Dionyza, shall we rest us here, And, by relating tales of others' griefs, See if 'twill teach us to forget our own?

Dio. That were to blow at fire in hope to quench it;

For wno digs hills because they do aspire, Throws down one mountain to cast up a higher. O my distressed lord, ev'n such our griefs are;

Here they're but felt, and seen with mischief's eyes,
But like to groves, being topp'd, they higher rise.
Cle. O Dionyza,

Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it,
Or can conceal his hunger till he famish?
Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep our woes
Into the air; our eyes do weep, till tongues
Fetch breath that may proclaim them louder, that
If heaven slumber, while their creatures want
They may awake their helpers to comfort them.
I'll then discourse our woes felt several years,
And, wanting breath to speak, help me with tears.
Dio. I'll do my best, sir.

Cle. This Tharsus, over which I have the
government,

A city on whom plenty held full hand,
For riches strew'd herself even in the streets;
Whose towers bore heads so high they kiss'd the
And strangers ne'er beheld, but wonder'd at;
clouds,
Whose men and dames so je ted and adorn'd,
Like one another's glass to trim them by:
And not so much to feed on, as delight;
Their tables were stor'd full, to glad the sight
All poverty was scorn'd, and pride so great,
The name of help grew odious to repeat.
Dio. Oh, 'tis too true.

Cle. But see what heaven can do! By this our
These mouths, whom but of late earth, sea, and air,
change,
Were all too little to content and please,
Although they gave their creatures in abundance,
As houses are defil'd for want of use,
They are now starv'd for want of exercise;
Those palates, who, not usi to hunger's savour
Must have inventions to delight the taste,
Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it,
Those mothers who, to nouzle up their babes,
Thought nought too curious, are ready now
To eat those little darlings whom they lov'd;
Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life:
So sharp are hunger's teeth, that man and wife
Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping;
Here many sink, yet those which see them fall
Have scarce strength left to give them burial.
Is not this true?

Dio. Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it. Cle. O let those cities that of Plenty's cup And her prosperities so largely taste, With their superfluous riots hear these tears! The misery of Tharsus may be theirs.

A portly sail of ships make hitherward.
Cle. I thought as much.

One sorrow never comes but brings an heir,
That may succeed as his inheritor;

And so in ours: some neighbouring nation,
Taking advantage of our misery,

Hath stuff'd these hollow vessels with their power,
To beat us down, the which are down already;
And make a conquest of unhappy me,
Whereas no glory's got to overcome.

Lord. That's the least fear; for, by the semblance Of their white flags display'd, they bring us peace, And come to us as favourers, not as foes.

Cle. Thou speak'st like him 's untutor'd to repeat;

Who makes the fairest show, means most deceit.
But bring they what they will, and what they can,
What need we fear?

The ground's the lowest, and we are half way there:
Go tell their general, we attend him here,
To know for what he comes, and whence he comes,
And what he craves.

Lord. I go, my lord.

Cle. Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist; If wars, we are unable to resist.

Enter PERICLES, with Attendants.

Per. Lord governor, for so we hear you are, Let not our ships, and number of our men, Be, like a beacon fir'd, to amaze your eyes. We have heard your iniseries as far as Tyre, And seen the desolation of your streets: Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears,

But to relieve them of their heavy load;
And these our ships (you happily may think
Are, like the Trojan horse, war-stuff'd within.
With bloody views expecting overthrow)
Are stor d with corn to make your needy bread,
And give them life, whom hunger starv 'd half dead.
Omnes. The gods of Greece protect you!
And we will pray for you.

Per.
Arise, I pray you, rise,
We do not look for reverence, but for love,
And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men.
Cle. The which when any shall not gratify
Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought,
Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves,
The curse of heaven and men succeed their evils!
Till when (the which, I hope, shall ne'er be seen),
Your grace is welcome to our town and us.
Per. Which welcome we'll accept; feast here a
while,

Until our stars, that frown. lend us a smile.

[Exeunt.

Enter GOWER.

Gow. Here have you seen a mighty king
His child, I wis, to incest bring:
A better prince and benign lord,

That will prove awful both in deed and word.
Be quiet then, as men should be,
Till he hath past necessity.

I'll show you those in trouble's reign
Losing a mite, a mountain gain.
The good, in conversation
(To whom I give my benizon)

Is still at Tharsus, where each man
Thinks all is writ he spoken can:
And, to remember what he does,
Build his statue to make him glorious:
But tidings to the contrary

Are brought to your eyes; what need speak I?
Dumb show.

Enter at one door PERICLES talking with CLEON; all the Train with them. Enter at another door a Gentleman, with a letter to PERICLES; PERICLES shows the letter to CLEON; PERICLES gives the Messenger a reward, and knights him.

[Exit PERICLES at one door, and CLEON
at another.

Good Helicane hath stay'd at home,
Not to eat honey, like a drone,
From others' labours; for though he strive
To killen bad, keeps good alive;
And to fulfil his prince' desire,
Bends word of all that haps in Tyre:
How Thaliard came full bent with sin,
And hid intent to murder him;
And that in Tharsus 'twas not best
Longer for him to make his rest:
He, knowing so, put forth to seas,
Where when men bin, there's seldom ease;
For now the wind begins to blow;
Thunder above, and deeps below,
Make such unquiet, that the ship
Should house him safe, is wrack`d and split,
And he, good prince, having all lost,
By waves from coast to coast is toss'd:

All perishen of man, of pelf,

Ne aught escapen'd but himself;
Till fortune tir'd with doing bad,
Threw him ashore to give him glad:
And here he comes; what shall be next,
Pardon old Gower; this 'longs the text. [Exit.

Wind, rain, and thunder, remember, earthly man
Is but a substance, that must yield to you;
And I, as fits my nature, do obey you.
Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks,
Wash'd me from shore to shore, and left me breath,
Nothing to think on, but ensuing death:
Let it suffice the greatness of your powers,
To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes;
And having thrown him from your watry grave,
Here to have death in peace, is all he'll crave.
Enter three Fishermen.

1 Fish. What, ho, Pilche!

2 Fish. Ha, come, and bring away the nets.
1 Fish. What, Patch-breech, I say!
3 Fish. What say you, master?

1 Fish. Look how thou stirrest now: come away, or I'll fetch thee with a wannion.

3 Fish. 'Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that were cast away before us, even now.

1 Fish. Alas, poor souls! it griev'd my heart to hear what pitiful cries they made to us, to help them, when, well-a-day, we could scarce help our selves.

3 Fish. Nay, master, said not I as much, when I saw the porpus how he bounced and tumbled? they say, they are half fish, half flesh; a plague on them! they ne'er come but I look to be wash'd. Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea.

1 Fish. Why, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the little ones: I can compare our rich misers to nothing so fitly as to a whale; a plays and tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at last devours them all at a mouthful. Such whales have I heard on a' the land, who never leave gaping, till they've swallow'd the whole parish, church, steeple, bells and all.

Per. A pretty moral.