See how she gins

To blow into life's flower again!

1. GENT.

The heavens,

Through you, increase our wonder, and sets up

Your fame for ever.

CER.

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 doth 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.

 

THAI.

O dear Diana,

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

2. GENT.

Is not this strange?

1. GENT.

Most rare.

CER.

Hush, my gentle neighbors!

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!

They carry her away. Exeunt omnes.

 

 

[Scene III]

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

 

PER.

Most honor'd Cleon, I must needs be gone.

My twelve months are expir'd, 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!

CLE.

Your shakes of fortune, though they haunt you mortally,

Yet glance full wond'ringly on us.

DION.

O your sweet queen!

That the strict fates had pleas'd you had brought her hither

To have blest mine eyes with her!

PER.

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 nam'd 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.

CLE.

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 reliev'd, 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!

PER.

I believe you,

Your honor and your goodness teach me to't

Without your vows. Till she be married, madam,

By bright Diana, whom we honor, all

[Unscissor'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.

DIM.

I have one myself,

Who shall not be more dear to my respect

Than yours, my lord.

PER.

Madam, my thanks and prayers.

CLE.

We'll bring your Grace e'en to the edge a' th' shore,

Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune and

The gentlest winds of heaven.

PER.

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]

Enter Cerimon and Thaisa.

 

CER.

Madam, this letter and some certain jewels

Lay with you in your coffer, which are

At your command. Know you the character?

THAI.

It is my lord's.

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

Even on my [eaning] time, but whether there

Delivered, 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.

CER.

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.

THAI.

My recompense is thanks, that's all,

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

 

Exeunt.

 

 

[Act IV]

Enter Gower.

 

[GOW.]

Imagine Pericles arriv'd at Tyre,

Welcom'd and settled to his own desire.

His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,

Unto Diana there 's a votaress.

Now to Marina bend your mind,

Whom our fast-growing scene must find

At Tharsus, and by Cleon train'd

In music's letters, who hath gain'd

Of education all the grace,

Which makes [her] both th' [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: our Cleon hath

One daughter, and a full-grown wench,

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 they weav'd 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 th' 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

The dove of Paphos might with the crow

Vie feathers white.