her birth-day; and there are princes and knights come from all parts of the world, to just and tourney for her love. Per. Did but my fortunes equal my desires, I'd wish to make one there. 1 Fish. O, sir, things must be as they may; and what a man cannot get, he may lawfully deal forhis wife's soul. Re-enter the two Fishermen, drawing a net. 2 Fish. Help, master, help! here's a tish hangs in the net, like a poor man's right in the law; 'twill hardly come out. Ha! bots on't, 'tis come at last, and 'tis turned to a rusty armour. Per. An armour, friends! I pray you, let me see it. Thanks, fortune, yet, that after all my crosses, Thou giv’st me somewhat to repair myself: And, though it was mine own, part of mine heritage, Which my dead father did bequeath to me, With this strict charge, (even as he left his life,) Keep it, my Pericles, it hath been a shield 'Twixt me and death; (and pointed to this brace :) For that it sav'd me, keep it ; in like necessity, Which gods protect thee from! it may defend thee. It kept where I kept, I so dearly lov'd it; Till the rough seas, that spare not any man, Took it in rage, though calm'd, they give't again : I thank thee for’t; my shipwreck's now no ill, Since I have here my father's gift by will. i Fish. What mean you, sir? Per. To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of worth, For it was sometime target to a king ; I know it by this mark. He lov'd me dearly, And for his sake, I wish the having of it; And that you'd guide me to your sovereign's court, Where with't I may appear a gentleman; And if that ever my low fortunes better, i Fish. Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady? 1 Fish. Why, do ye take it, and the gods give thee good on't! 2 Fish, Ay, but hark you, my friend ; 'twas we that made up this garment through the rough seams of the waters: there are certain condolements, certain vails. I hope, sir, if you thrive, you'll remember from whence you had it. Per. Believe't, I will. 2 Fish. We'll sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to make thee a pair; and I'll bring thee to the court myself, Per. Then honour be but a goal to my will ; This day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill. [Exeunt. SCENE II.--The same. A public way, or plat form, leading to the lists. A pavilion by the side of it, for the reception of the King, Princess, Lords, &c. Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, and Attendants. Sim. Are the knights ready to begin the triumph? 1 Lord. They are, my liege; And stay your coming to present themselves. Sim. Return them, we are ready; and our daugh ter, [Exit a Lord. Sim. 'Tis fit it should be so; for princes are form. squire presents his shield to the Princess. Sim. Who is the first that doth prefer bimself? Thai. A knight of Sparta, my renowned father; The second Knight passes. Thai. A prince of Macedon, my royal father; [The third Knight passes, Sim. And what's the third ? Thai. The third of Antioch; The word, Me pompa prorexit apex. [The fourth Knight passes. Sim. What is the fourth? Thai. A burning torch, that's turned upside down; The word, Quod me alit, me extinguit. Sim. Which shows, that beauty hath his power and will, Which can as well inflame, as it can kill. [The fifth Knight passes. Thai. The fifth, an hand environed with clouds; Holding out gold, that's by the touchstone tried : The motto thus, Sic spectanda fides. [The sixth Knight passes. Sim. And what's the sixth and last, which the knight himself Thai. He seeins a stranger; but his present is Sim. A pretty moral ; ward show Can any way speak in his just commend : For, by his rusty outside, he appears To have practis'd more the whipstock, than the lance. 2 Lord. He well may be a stranger, for he comes To an honour'd triumph, strangely furnished. 3 Lord. And on set purpose let his armour rust Until this day, to scour it in the dust. Sim. Opinion's but a fool, that makes us scan Ereunt. [Great shouts, and all cry, The mean knight. a a SCENE III.-The same. A hall of state.—A ban quet prepared. Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, Knights, and Attendants. Thai. But you, my knight and guest ; Per. 'Tis more by fortune, lady, than by merit. Sim. Call it by what you will, the day is yours;. And here, I hope, is none that envies it. In framing artists, art hath thus decreed, To make some good, but others to exceed; And you're her labour'd scholar. Come, queen o'the feast, (For, daughter, so you are,) here take your place: Marshal the rest, as they deserve their Knights. We are honour'd much by good Simo nides. Sim. Your presence glads our days; honour we love, Marsh. Sir, yond's your place. men, grace. 1 |