Mar. The gods defend me!

Bawd. If it please the gods to defend you by men, then men must comfort you, men must feed you, men must stir you up.-Boult 's returned.

Enter BOULT.

Now, sir, hast thou cried her through the market? Boult. I have cried her almost to the number of her hairs; I have drawn her picture with my voice.

Bawd. And I pr'ythee tell me, how dost thou find the inclination of the people, especially of the younger sort?

Boult. 'Faith, they listened to me as they would have hearkened to their father's testament. There was a Spaniard's mouth so watered, that he went to bed to her very description.

Bawd. We shall have him here to-morrow with his best ruff on.

Boult. To-night, to-night. But, mistress, do you know the French knight that cowers i' the hams?

Bawd. Who? Monsieur Veroles?

Boult. Ay; he offered to cut a caper at the proclamation; but he made a groan at it, and swore he would see her to-morrow.

Bawd. Well, well; as for him, he brought his disease hither: here he does but repair it. I know, he will come. in our shadow, to scatter his crowns in the sun.

Boult. Well, if we had of every nation a traveller, we should lodge them with this sign.

Bawd. Pray you, come hither awhile. You have fortunes coming upon you. Mark me; you must seem to do that fearfully, which you commit willingly; to despise profit, where you have most gain. To weep that you live as you do, makes pity in your lovers: Seldom, but that pity begets you a good opinion, and that opinion a mere profit. Mar. I understand you not.

Boult. O, take her home, mistress, take her home: these blushes of her's must be quenched with some present practice.

Bawd. Thou say'st true, i' faith, so they must: for your bride goes to that with shame, which is her way to go with warrant.

Boult. 'Faith some do, and some do not. But, mistress,

if I have bargained for the joint,

Bawd. Thou may'st cut a morsel off the spit.
Boult. I may so.

Bawd. Who should deny it? Come young one, I like the manner of your garments well.

Boult. Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet. Bard. Boult, spend thou that in the town: report what a sojourner we have; you'll lose nothing by custom. When nature framed this piece, she meant thee a good turn; therefore say what a paragon she is, and thou hast the harvest out of thine own report.

Boult. I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake the beds of eels, as my giving out her beauty stir up the lewdly-inclined. I'll bring home some to-night. Bawd. Come your ways; follow me.

Mar. If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep, Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.

Diana, aid my purpose!

Bawd. What have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with us?

SCENE IV.

Tharsus. A Room in Cleon's House.

Enter CLEON and DIONYZA.

[Exeunt.

Dion. Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone ?
Cle. O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter

The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon!

Dion.

You'll turn a child again.

I think

Cle. Were I chief lord of all the spacious world,
I'd give it to undo the deed. O lady,

Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess
To equal any single crown o' the earth,

I' the justice of compare! O villain Leonine,
Whom thou hast poison'd too!

If thou hadst drunk to him, it had been a kindness
Becoming well thy feat: what canst thou say,
When noble Pericles shall demand his child?

Dion. That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,
To foster it, nor ever to preserve.

She died by night; I'll say so. Who can cross it?
Unless you play the impious 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 think
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 cow'd a spirit.

Cle.

To such proceeding
Who ever but his approbation added,

Though not his pre-consent, he did not flow
From honourable 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 disdain my child, and stood between
Her and her fortunes: None would look on her,
But cast their gazes on Marina's face;

Whilst ours was blurted at, and held a malkin,
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 enterprize of kindness,
Perform'd to your sole daughter.

Cle.

Dion. And as for Pericles,

Heavens forgive it!

What should he say? We wept after her hearse,
And even yet we mourn: her monument
Is almost finish'd, and her epitaphs
In glittering golden characters express
A general praise to her, and care in us
At whose expence 'tis done.

Cle.
Thou art like the harpy,
Which, to betray, doth wear an angel's face,
Seize with an eagle's talons.

Dion. You are like one, that superstitiously

F

Doth swear to the gods, that winter kills the flies;
But yet I know you 'll do as I advise.

[Exeunt. Enter GowER, before the Monument of MARINA at

Tharsus.

Gow. Thus time we waste, and longest leagues

make short;

Sail seas in cockles, have, and wish but for 't;
Making, (to take your imagination)

From bourn to bourn, region to region.

By you being pardon'd, we commit no crime
To use one language, in each several clime,
Where our scenes seem to live. I do beseech you,
To learn of me, who stand i̇' the 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 life's delight.
Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late
Advanc'd in time to great and high estate,
Is left to govern. Bear you it in mind,
Old Helicanus goes along behind.

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 awhile;
Your ears unto your eyes I 'll reconcile.
Dumb show.

Enter at one door, PERICLES with his Train; CLEON and DIONYZA at the other. CLEON shows PERICLES the Tomb of MARINA; whereat PERICLES makes lamentation, puts on Sackcloth, and in a mighty passion departs. Then CLEON and DIONYZA retire.

Gow. See how belief may suffer by foul show! This borrow'd 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, sweet'st, and best, lies here, Who wither'd 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, swallow'd some part o' the
earth:

Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,
Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd:
Werefore 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 scenes display
His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day,
In her unholy service. Patience then,
And think you now are all in Mitylen.

SCENE V.

Mitylene. A Street before the Brothel.

Enter, from the Brothel, Two Gentlemen.

1 Gent. Did you ever hear the like?

[Exit.

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

1 Gent. But to have divinity preached there! did you ever dream of such a thing?.

2 Gent. No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdy-houses: Shall we go hear the vestals sing?

1 Gent. I'll do any thing now that is virtuous; but I am out of the road of rutting, for ever. [Exeunt.