Cer.

Gentlemen,

Why do you ftir so early?

1 Gent. Sir,

Our lodgings, ftanding bleak upon the fea,
Shook, as the earth did quake;

The very principals did feem to rend,
And all to topple : pure furprize and fear
Made me to quit the house.

2 Gent. That is the cause we trouble you fo early: 'Tis not our husbandry.

Cer.

O, you say well.

1 Gent. But I much marvel that your lordship, having Rich tire about you, should at these early hours Shake off the golden flumber of repose.

It is most strange,

Nature should be so conversant with pain,
Being thereto not compell'd.

Cer.

I held it ever,

Virtue and cunning were endowments greater
Than noblenefs and riches: carelefs heirs
May the two latter darken and expend ;.
But immortality attends the former,
Making a man a god. 'Tis known, I ever
Have ftudied physick, through which secret art,
By turning o'er authorities, I have
(Together with my practice,) made familiar
To me and to my aid, the bleft infusions
That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;
And I can speak of the disturbances

That nature works, and of her cures; which gives me.
A more content in courfe of true delight

Than to be thirsty after tottering honour,
Or tie my treasure up in filken bags,
To please the fool and death.

2 Gent.

2 Gent. Your honour has through Ephefus pour'd forth Your charity, and hundreds call themselves Your creatures, who by you have been restor❜d : And not your knowledge, personal pain, but even Your purse, ftill open, hath built lord Cerimon Such strong renown as time fhall never

Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest ;

'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight;
If the fea's ftomach be o'ercharg'd with gold,
It is a good constraint of fortune, that

Cer. How clofe 'tis caulk'd and bitum'd !— Did the fea caft it up?

Serv. I never faw fo huge a billow, fir,

As tofs'd it upon fhore.

Cer.

Come, wrench it open ;

Soft, foft!-it fmells most sweetly in my sense. 2 Gent. A delicate odour.

Cer. As ever hit my noftril; fo,--up with it. O you most potent gods! what's here? a corfe! 1 Gent. Most strange!

Cer. Shrouded in cloth of state; balm'd and entreafur'd

With bags of spices full! A paffport too!
Apollo, perfect me i'the characters!

Here I give to understand,

(If e'er this coffin drive a-land,)

I, king Pericles, bave loft

[Unfolds a scroll.

[Reads.

This queen, worth all our mundane cost.
Who finds her, give ber burying,

She was the daughter of a king:
Befides this treasure for a fee,
The gods requite bis charity!

If thou liv'ft, Pericles, thou haft a heart

That even cracks for woe!-This chanc'd to-night. 2 Gent. Most likely, fir.

Cer.

Nay, certainly to-night;

For look, how fresh she looks!—They were too rough,

That threw her in the fea. Make fire within;
Fetch hither all the boxes in my closet.
Death may ufurp on nature many hours,
And yet the fire of life kindle again
The overpreffed fpirits. I have heard
Of an Egyptian, had nine hours lien dead,
By good appliance was recovered.

Enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire.

Well faid, well faid; the fire and the cloths.
The rough and woful mufick that we have,

Cause it to found, 'befeech you.

The vial once more;-How thou stirr'ft, thou block?The mufick there.-I pray you, give her air :— Gentlemen,

This queen will live: nature awakes; a warmth

Breathes

Breathes out of her; the hath not been entranc'd

Above five hours.

See, how the 'gins to blow

The heavens, fir,

Into life's flower again!

1 Gent.

Through you, increase our wonder, and set up

Your fame for ever.

Cer.

She is alive; behold,

Her eyelids, cafes to thofe heavenly jewels
Which Pericles hath loft,

Begin to part their fringes of bright gold;

The diamonds of a moft praised water

Appear, to make the world twice rich. O live,

And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,
Rare as you seem to be!

[She moves.

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

2 Gent. Is not this strange?

1 Gent.

Cer.

Moft rare.

Hufh, gentle neighbours;

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, come;
And Æfculapius guide us!

[Exeunt, carrying THAISA away.

SCENE III.

Tharfus. A Room in Cleon's Houfe.

Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, LYCHORIDA, and MARINA.

Per. Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone; My twelve months are expir'd, and Tyrus ftands

In

In a litigious peace. You, and your lady,

Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods
Make up the rest upon you!

Cle. Your fhafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,

Yet glance full wand'ringly on us.

Dion.

O your sweet queen!

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

ther,

To have blefs'd mine eyes!

Per.

We cannot but obey
The powers above us. Could I rage and roar
As doth the fea fhe lies in, yet the end
Must be as 'tis. My babe Marina (whom
For fhe was born at sea, I have nam'd fo) here
I charge your charity withal, and leave her
The infant of your care; befeeching you
To give her princely training, that she may be
Manner'd as the is born.

Cle.

Fear not, my lord:
Your grace, that fed my country with your corn,
(For which the people's prayers ftill fall upon you,)
Muft 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 honour and your goodness teach me credit,

Without your vows.

Till the be married, madam,

By bright Diana, whom we honour all,

Unfciffar'd fhall this hair of mine remain,

Though I fhow will in't. So I take my leave.