Who can cross it?

Unless you play the [pious] innocent,

And for an honest attribute cry out,

»She died by foul play.«

CLE.

O, go to. Well, well,

Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods

Do like this worst.

DION.

Be one of those that thinks

The petty wrens of Tharsus will fly hence

And open this to Pericles. I do shame

To think of what a noble strain you are,

And of how coward a spirit.

CLE.

To such proceeding

Who ever but his approbation added,

Though not his [prime] consent, he did not flow

From honorable courses.

DION.

Be it so then,

Yet none does know but you how she came dead,

Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.

She did [distain] my child, and stood between

Her and her fortunes. None would look on her,

But cast their gazes on Marina's face;

Whilest ours was blurted at and held a mawkin

Not worth the time of day. It pierc'd me thorough,

And though you call my course unnatural,

You not your child well loving, yet I find

It greets me as an enterprise of kindness

Perform'd to your sole daughter.

CLE.

Heavens forgive it!

DION.

And as for Pericles,

What should he say? We wept after her hearse,

And yet we mourn. Her monument

Is almost finished, and her epitaphs

In glitt'ring golden characters express

A general praise to her, and care in us

At whose expense 'tis done.

CLE.

Thou art like the harpy,

Which to betray, dost with thine angel's face

Seize with thine eagle's talents.

DION.

Y' are like one that superstitiously

Do swear to th' gods that winter kills the flies,

But yet I know you'll do as I advise.

 

[Exeunt.]

 

 

[Scene IV]

[Enter Gower before the monument of Marina at Tharsus.]

 

GOW.

Thus time we waste, and long leagues make short;

Sail seas in cockles, have and wish but for't,

Making, to take our imagination,

From bourn to bourn, region to region.

By you being pardoned, we commit no crime

To use one language in each several clime

Where our scenes seems to live. I do beseech you

To learn of me, who stand [i' th'] gaps to teach you,

The stages of our story. Pericles

Is now again thwarting [the] wayward seas,

Attended on by many a lord and knight,

To see his daughter, all his live's delight.

Old Helicanus goes along. Behind

Is left to govern it, you bear in mind,

Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late

Advanc'd in time to great and high estate.

Well-sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought

This king to Tharsus – think [his] pilot thought,

So with his steerage shall your thoughts [grow on] –

To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.

Like motes and shadows see them move a while,

Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.

 

[Dumb Show]

Enter Pericles at one door with all his Train; Cleon and Dionyza at the other. Clean shows Pericles the tomb; whereat Pericles makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a mighty passion departs. [Then exeunt Clean and Dionyza.]

 

See how belief may suffer by foul show!

This borrowed passion stands for true old woe;

And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,

With sighs shot through and biggest tears o'ershow'r'd,

Leaves Tharsus and again embarks. He swears

Never to wash his face, nor cut his hairs;

He [puts] on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears

A tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,

And yet he rides it out. Now please you wit

The epitaph is for Marina writ

By wicked Dionyza.

 

[Reads the inscription on Marina's monument.]

 

»The fairest, sweetest, and best lies here,

Who withered in her spring of year.

She was of Tyrus the King's daughter,

On whom foul death hath made this slaughter.

Marina was she call'd, and at her birth,

Thetis, being proud, swallowed some part a' th' earth.

Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflowed,

Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestowed;

Wherefore she does, and swears she'll never stint,

Make raging battery upon shores of flint.«

No visor does become black villainy

So well as soft and tender flattery.

Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,

And bear his courses to be ordered

By Lady Fortune, while our [scene] must play

His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day

In her unholy service. Patience then,

And think you now are all in Metelin.

 

Exit.

 

 

[Scene V]

Enter two Gentlemen.

 

1. GENT. Did you ever hear the like?

2. GENT. No, nor never shall do in such a place as this, she being once gone.

1. GENT. But to have divinity preach'd there! did you ever dream of such a thing?

2. GENT. No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdy- houses. Shall 's go hear the vestals sing?

1.