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Pericles, Prince of Tyre: Act 3 Scene 1

[Enter GOWER]

GOWER

Now sleep y-slaked 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 crouches fore the mouse's hole;

And crickets sing at the oven's mouth,

E'er the blither for their drouth.

Hymen hath brought the bride to bed.

Where, by the loss of maidenhead,

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 them, kneels, and

gives PERICLES a letter: PERICLES shows it

SIMONIDES; the Lords kneel to him. Then enter

THAISA with child, with LYCHORIDA a nurse. The

KING shows her the letter; she rejoices: she and

PERICLES takes leave of her father, and depart with

LYCHORIDA and their Attendants. Then exeunt

SIMONIDES and the rest]

By many a dern and painful perch

Of Pericles the careful search,

By the four opposing coigns

Which the world together joins,

Is made with all due diligence

That horse and sail and high expense

Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre,

Fame answering the most strange inquire,

To the court of King Simonides

Are letters brought, the tenor these:

Antiochus and his daughter dead;

The men of Tyrus on the head

Of Helicanus would set on

The crown of Tyre, but he will none:

The mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;

Says to 'em, if King Pericles

Come not home in twice six moons,

He, obedient to their dooms,

Will take the crown. The sum of this,

Brought hither to Pentapolis,

Y-ravished the regions round,

And every one with claps can sound,

'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 dole 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 grisly 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

Does 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 Pericles appears to speak.

[Exit]

Scene I:

[Enter PERICLES, on shipboard]

PERICLES

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,

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

Thy deafening, dreadful thunders; gently quench

Thy nimble, sulphurous flashes! O, how, Lychorida,

How does my queen? Thou stormest venomously;

Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman's whistle

Is as a whisper in the ears of death,

Unheard. Lychorida!--Lucina, 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!

[Enter LYCHORIDA, with an Infant]

Now, Lychorida!

LYCHORIDA

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.

PERICLES

How, how, Lychorida!

LYCHORIDA

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.

PERICLES

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

Use honour with you.

LYCHORIDA

Patience, good sir,

Even for this charge.

PERICLES

Now, mild may be thy life!

For a more blustrous birth had never babe:

Quiet and gentle thy conditions! for

Thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world

That ever 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 quit,

With all thou canst find here. Now, the good gods

Throw their best eyes upon't!

[Enter two Sailors]

FIRST SAILOR

What courage, sir? God save you!

PERICLES

Courage enough: I do not fear the flaw;

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.

FIRST SAILOR

Slack the bolins there! Thou wilt not, wilt thou?

Blow, and split thyself.

SECOND SAILOR

But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss

the moon, I care not.

FIRST SAILOR

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.

PERICLES

That's your superstition.

FIRST SAILOR

Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it hath been still

observed: and we are strong in custom. Therefore

briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight.

PERICLES

As you think meet. Most wretched queen!

LYCHORIDA

Here she lies, sir.

PERICLES

A terrible childbed 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,

And e'er-remaining lamps, the belching whale

And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,

Lying with simple shells. O Lychorida,

Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,

My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander

Bring me the satin coffer: lay the babe

Upon the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say

A priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman.

[Exit LYCHORIDA]

SECOND SAILOR

Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked

and bitumed ready.

PERICLES

I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?

SECOND SAILOR

We are near Tarsus.

PERICLES

Thither, gentle mariner.

Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it?

SECOND SAILOR

By break of day, if the wind cease.

PERICLES

O, make for Tarsus!

There will I visit Cleon, for the babe

Cannot hold out to Tyrus: there I'll leave it

At careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner:

I'll bring the body presently.

[Exeunt]