ACT 1.]

Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life: Your rule direct to any; if to me,

Day serves not light more faithful than I'll be. PER. I do not doubt thy faith; But should he wrong my liberties in my HEL. We'll mingle our bloods together in the earth,

absence

From whence we had our being and our birth.
PER. Tyre, I now look from thee, then, and to
Tharsus

Intend my travel, where I'll hear from thee;
And by whose letters I'll dispose myself.
The care I had and have of subjects' good,
On thee I lay, whose wisdom's strength can bear it.
I'll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath ;
Who shuns not to break one, will sure crack both:
But in our orbs we'll* live so round and safe,
That time of both this truth shall ne'er convince,
Thou show'dst a subject's shine, I a true prince.
Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same. An Ante-chamber in the Palace.

Enter THALIARD.

THAL. So, this is Tyre, and this the court. Here must I kill king Pericles; and if I do it not, I am sure to be hanged at home: 't is dangerous.

Well, I perceive, he was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, that, being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired he might know none of his secrets.(3) Now do I see he had some reason for it: for if a king bid a man be a villain, he is bound by the indenture of his oath to be one. Hush! here come the lords of Tyre.

Enter HELICANUS, ESCANES, and other Lords.
HEL. You shall not need, my fellow-peers of
Tyre,

Further to question me of your king's departure:
His seal'd commision, left in trust with me,
Doth speak sufficiently, he's gone to travel.
THAL. [Aside.] How! the king gone!
HEL. If further yet you will be satisfied,
Why, as it were unlicens'd of your loves,
He would depart, I'll give some light unto you.
Being at Antioch-

(*) Quarto 1609, will; that of 1619, we.

* But since he's gone, the king it sure must please-] More corruption! Of the text of this play, Malone well observes: "There is, I believe, no play of our author's, perhaps I might say, in the English language, so incorrect as this. The most corrupt of Shakespeare's other dramas, compared with Pericles, is purity itself." In the old copies, the line above reads:

"But since he's gone, the king's seas must.please,"

THAL. [Aside.] What from Antioch?
HEL. Royal Antiochus (on what cause I know

not)

Took some displeasure at him; at least he judg'd so:
And doubting lest he had err'd or sinned,
To show his sorrow, he'd correct himself;
So puts himself unto the shipman's toil,
With whom each minute threatens life or death.
THAL. [Aside.] Well, I perceive

I shall not be hang'd now, although I would;
But since he's gone, the king it sure must please
He 'scap'd the land, to perish at the sea.—
I'll present myself. Peace to the lords of Tyre!
HEL. Lord Thaliard from Antiochus is welcome.
THAL. From him I come

a

With message unto princely Pericles;
But since my landing I have understood,"
Your lord hath betook himself to unknown travels,
My message must return from whence it came.
HEL. We have no reason to desire it,
Commended to our master, not to us:
Yet ere you shall depart, this we desire,—
As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.
[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Tharsus. A Room in the
Governor's House.

Enter CLEON, DIONYZA, and Attendants.
CLE. My Dionyza, shall we rest us here,
And by relating tales of others' griefs,
See if 't will teach us to forget our own?

Dio. That were to blow at fire in hope to quench it;

For who digs hills because they do aspire,
Throws down one mountain to cast up a higher.
O my distressed lord, even such our griefs are;
Here they're but felt, unseen* with mischief's eyes,
But like to groves, being topp'd, they higher rise.
CLE. O Dionyza,

Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it,
Or can conceal his hunger till he famish?
Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep
Our woes into the air; our eyes do weep,
Till lungs + fetch breath that may proclaim them
louder ;

That if heaven slumber while their creatures want,
They may awake their helps to comfort them.

&c.

b But since my landing-] That is, "But as since my landing,"

a I'll then discourse our woes felt several years,-] This speech is inveterately depraved; and in the present line, the word our is an obvious misprint. Cleon desires to banish the recollection of their own sorrows by relating "others' griefs;" we ought therefore to read:

"I'll then discourse of woes," &c.

The necessity for this correction is enforced by the words "several years." Shakespeare uses several for distinct, separate, particular, various, but never in the sense it now commonly bears of many; a sense, indeed, clearly inapplicable in this instance, because, from the context,

"These mouths, whom but of late, earth, sea, and air
Were all too little to content and please," "1

188

And not so much to feed on, as delight;
All poverty was scorn'd, and pride so great,
The name of help grew odious to repeat.

Dro. Oh, 'tis too true.
[change,
CLE. But see what heaven can do! By this our
These mouths, whom but of late, earth, sea, and air
Were all too little to content and please,
Although they gave their creatures in abundance,
As houses are defil'd for want of use,
They are now starv'd for want of exercise;
Those palates who, not yet two summers younger,
Must have inventions to delight the taste,

Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it;
Those mothers who, to nouzle up their babes,
Thought nought too curious, are ready now,
To eat those little darlings whom they lov'd.
So sharp are hunger's teeth, that man and wife
Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life:
Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping;
Here
many sink, yet those which see them fall
Have scarce strength left to give them burial.
Is not this true?

Dro. Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it.
CLE. O let those cities that of Plenty's cup
And her prosperities so largely taste,
With their superfluous riots, hear these tears!
The misery of Tharsus may be theirs.

PER. Lord governor, for so we hear you are, Let not our ships, and number of our men, Be, like a beacon fir'd, to amaze your eyes. We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre, And seen the desolation of your streets : Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears, But to relieve them of their heavy load; And these our ships (you happily may think Are, like the Trojan horse was, stuff'd within, With bloody veins expecting overthrow) Are stor❜d with corn to make your needy bread, And give them life, whom hunger starv'd half dead. ALL. The gods of Greece protect you! And we will pray for you.

b

rise ;

PER. Arise, I pray you, We do not look for reverence, but for love, And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men. CLE. The which when any shall not gratify, Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought, Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves, The curse of heaven and men succeed their evils! Till when the which, I hope, shall ne'er be seenYour grace is welcome to our town and us. PER. Which welcome we'll accept ; feast here a while,

Until our stars that frown lend us a smile.

b

[Exeunt.

Are, like the Trojan horse was, stuff"d within,
With bloody veins,-]

For this, the somewhat confused but not unintelligible reading of the old text, Steevens ingeniously substituted,

Gow. Here have you seen a mighty king
His child, I wis, to incest bring:
A better prince and benign lord,

That will prove awful both in deed and word.
Be quiet, then, as men should be,
Till he hath pass'd necessity.

I'll show you those in trouble's reign,
Losing a mite, a mountain gain.
The good, in conversation,-
To whom I give my benizon,-
Is still at Tharsus, where each man
Thinks all is writ he spoken can :
And, to remember what he does,
Build his statue to make him glorious: (1)
But tidings to the contrary

Are brought your eyes; what need speak I?

Good Helicane that stay'd at home,
Not to eat honey, like a drone,
From others' labours; for though he strive
To killen bad, keeps good alive;
And, to fulfil his prince' desire,
Sends word of all that haps in Tyre:

How Thaliard came full bent with sin,
And hid intent to murder him;
And that in Tharsus 't was not best
Longer for him to make his rest:
He, knowing so,† put forth to seas,
Where when men been, there's seldom ease;
For now the wind begins to blow;
Thunder above, and deeps below,
Make such unquiet, that the ship
Should house him safe, is wreck'd and split;
And he, good prince, having all lost,
By waves from coast to coast is toss'd:
All perishen of man, of pelf,
Ne aught escapen but himself;
Till fortune, tir'd with doing bad,
Threw him ashore to give him glad :
And here he comes; what shall be next,
Pardon old Gower; this 'longs the text.

(*) Old copies, sav'd one of all. (†) In the original, doing so.

[Exit.

heaven!

Wind, rain, and thunder, remember, earthly man
Is but a substance that must yield to you;
And I, as fits my nature, do obey you.
Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks,
Wash'd me from shore to shore, and left me*
breath,

Nothing to think on, but ensuing death:
Let it suffice the greatness of your powers,
To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes;
And having thrown him from your wat'ry grave,
Here to have death in peace, is all he'll crave.

Enter three Fishermen.

1 FISH. What, ho, Pilche !+

2 FISH. Ho! come and bring away the nets. 1 FISH. What, Patch-breech, I say!

3 FISH. What say you, master?

1 FISH. Look how thou stirrest now! come away, or I'll fetch thee with a wannion.

(*) Old editions, my.

(†) Old editions, What to pelch.

3 FISH. Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that were cast away before us, even

now.

1 FISH. Alas, poor souls! it grieved my heart to hear what pitiful cries they made to us, to help them, when, well-a-day, we could scarce help

ourselves.

3 FISH. Nay, master, said not I as much when I saw the porpus how he bounced and tumbled? they say, they're half fish, half flesh; a plague on them! they ne'er come but I look to be washed. Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea.

1 FISH. Why, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the little ones. I can compare our rich misers to nothing so fitly as to a whale; 'a plays and tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at last devours them all at a mouthful. Such whales have I heard on o' the land, who never leave gaping, till they've swallowed the whole parish, church, steeple, bells and all.

PER. [Aside.] A pretty moral.

3 FISH. But, master, if I had been the sexton, I would have been that day in the belfry. 2 FISH. Why, man?

3 FISH. Because he should have swallowed me too: and when I had been in his belly, I would