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I am glad of it with all my heart. [Aside]. I'll tame

you;

I'll bring you in subjection.

Will you, not having my consent, bestow
Your love and your affections on a stranger?
(Who, for aught I know to the contrary,
Or think, may be as great in blood as I) [Aside.
Hear, therefore, mistress; frame your will to mine,—
And you, sir, hear you.-Either be rul'd by me,
Or I will make you-man and wife.-

Nay, come; your hands and lips must seal it too.-
And being join'd, I'll thus your hopes destroy ;-
And for a further grief,-God give you joy!
What, are you both pleas'd?

Thai.
Yes, if you love me, sir.
Per. Even as my life, my blood that fosters it.
Sim. What, are you both agreed?

Both. Yes, 'please your majesty. Sim. It pleaseth me so well, I'll see you wed; Then, with what haste you can, get you to bed.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

Enter Gower.

Gow. Now sleep yslaked* hath the rout;
No din but snores, the house about,
Made louder by the o'er-fed breast
Of this most pompous marriage-feast.
The cat, with eyne of burning coal,
Now couches 'fore the mouse's hole;
And crickets sing at th' oven's mouth,
As the blither for their drouth.
Hymen hath brought the bride to bed,
Where, by the loss of maidenhead,

* Quenched.

A babe is moulded ;-Be attent,
And time that is so briefly spent,
With your fine fancies quaintly eche*;
What's dumb in show, I'll plain with speech.

Dumb show.

Enter Pericles and Simonides at one door, with Attendants; a Messenger meets him, kneels, and gives Pericles a letter. Pericles shows it to Simonides; the Lords kneel to the former. Then enter Thaisa with child, and Lychorida. Simonides shows his daughter the letter; she rejoices: she and Pericles take leave of her father, and depart. Then Simonides, &c. retire.

Gow. By many a dearnt and painful percht,
Of Pericles the careful search,
By the four opposing coignes §,
Which the world together joins,
Is made, with all due diligence,
That horse, and sail, and high expence,
Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre
(Fame answering the most strong inquire),
To the court of king Simonides
Are letters brought; the tenour these:
Antiochus and his daughter's dead;
The men of Tyrus, on the head
Of Helicanus would set on

The crown of Tyre, but he will none:
The mutiny there he hastes t'appease:
Says to them, if king Pericles

Come not, in twice six moons, home,
He obedient to their doom,

Will take the crown. The sum of this,
Brought hither to Pentapolis,
Y-ravished the regions round,

And every one with claps 'gan sound,

• Eke out. $ Corners.

VOL. VII.

+ Lonely.

A measure.

Help, or assist the search.

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Our heir apparent is a king :

Who dream'd, who thought of such a thing!
Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre:
His queen, with child, makes her desire
(Which who shall cross?) along to go;
(Omit we all their dote and woe;)
Lychorida, her nurse, she takes,
And so to sea. Their vessel shakes
On Neptune's billow; half the flood
Hath their keel cut; but fortune's mood
Varies again; the grizzled north
Disgorges such a tempest forth,
That, as a duck for life that dives,
So up and down the poor ship drives.
The lady shrieks, and, well-a-near + !
Doth fall in travail with her fear:
And what ensues in this fell storm,
Shall, for itself, itself perform.
I nill relate; action may
Conveniently the rest convey:
Which might not what by me is told.
In your imagination hold

This stage, the ship, upon whose deck
The sea-tost prince appears to speak.

SCENE I.

[Exit.

Enter Pericles, on a ship at sea.

Per. Thou God of this great vast§, rebuke these surges,

Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that

hast

Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,

* Disposition.

+ An exclamation equivalent to well-a-day.
I shall not.
§ This wide expanse.

Having call'd them from the deep! O still thy deaf'ning,

Thy dreadful thunders; gently quench thy nimble,
Sulphureous flashes!-O how, Lychorida,
How does my queen?-Thou storm, thou! venom-
ously*

Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman's whistle
Is as a whisper in the ears of death,
Unheard.-Lychorida!-Lucina t, O
Divinest patroness, and midwife, gentle
To those that cry by night, convey thy deity
Aboard our dancing boat; make swift the pangs
Of my queen's travails! Now, Lychorida-

Enter Lychorida, with an infant.

Lyc. Here is a thing

Too young for such a place, who if it had
Conceit would die as I am like to do.

Take in your arms this piece of your dead queen.
Per. How! how, Lychorida!

Lyc. Patience, good sir; do not assist the storm. Here's all that is left living of your queen,A little daughter; for the sake of it, Be manly, and take comfort.

Per.

O you gods! Why do you make us love your goodly gifts, And snatch them straight away? We, here below, Recall not what we give, and therein may Vie honours with yourselves.

Patience, good sir,

Per.

Now, mild may be thy life! For a more blust'rous birth had never babe : Quiet and gentle thy conditions!

For thou'rt the rudeliest welcom'd to this world,

Lyc.

Even for this charge.

* Maliciously.

+ The goddess of child-bearing.

§ Contend with you in honour.

Thought.

That e'er was prince's child. Happy what follows! Thou hast as chiding a nativity,

As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make,
To herald thee from the womb: even at the first,
Thy loss is more than can thy portage quitt,
With all thou canst find here.-Now the good gods
Throw their best eyes upon it!

Enter two Sailors.

1 Sail. What courage, sir? God save you. Per. Courage enough: I do not fear the flaw t; It hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the love Of this poor infant, this fresh-new sea-farer, I would, it would be quiet.

1 Sail. Slack the bolins there; thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow, and split thyself.

2 Sail. But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon, I care not.

1 Sail. Sir, your queen must overboard; the sea works high, the wind is loud, and will not lie, till the ship be cleared of the dead.

Per. That's your superstition.

1 Sail. Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it still hath been observed; and we are strong in earnest. There fore briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight.

Per. Be it as you think meet.-Most wretched queen!

Lyc. Here she lies, sir.

Per. A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my dear,
No light, no fire: the unfriendly elements
Forgot thee utterly; nor have I time

To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight
Must cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze;
Where, for a monument upon thy bones,

As noisy a one.

Than thy entrance into life can requite.
Blast.
Bowlines, ropes of the sails.

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