Your purse, still open, hath built lord Cerimon
Such strong renown as time shall never-

Enter two Servants, with a chest.

Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest; 'Tis of some wreck.

Serv. So; lift there.

Cer.

What is that?

Serv.

Sir, even now

Set't down; let's look on it.

Whate'er it be,

Cer.

2 Gent. 'Tis like a coffin, sir.
Cer.

'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight;
If the sea's stomach be o'ercharged with gold,
It is a good constraint of fortune, that

It belches upon us.

2 Gent.

'Tis so, my lord.

Cer. How close 'tis calked and bitumed!— Did the sea cast it up?

Serv. I never saw so huge a billow, sir,

As tossed it upon shore.

Cer.

Come, wrench it open; Soft, soft!-it smells most sweetly in my sense. 2 Gent. A delicate odor.

Cer. As ever hit my nostril; so,-up with it. O you most potent god! what's here? a corse! 1 Gent. Most strange!

Cer. Shrouded in cloth of state; balmed and en

treasured

With bags of spices full! A passport too!

Apollo, perfect me i' the characters!

[Unfolds a scroll.

Here I give to understand,

[Reads.

(If e'er this coffin drive a-land,)1

I, king Pericles, have lost

This queen, worth all our mundane cost.

1 In Twine's Translation of the story of Apollonius of Tyre, this

uncommon phrase, a-land, is repeatedly used.

Who finds her, give her burying;
She was the daughter of a king;
Besides this treasure for a fee,
The gods requite his charity!

If thou liv'st, Pericles, thou hast a heart

That even cracks for woe!-This chanced to-night. 2 Gent. Most likely, sir.

Cer.

Nay, certainly to-night; For look, how fresh she looks!—They were too rough,

That threw her in the sea. Make fire within;
Fetch hither all the boxes in my closet.
Death may usurp on nature many hours,
And yet the fire of life kindle again
The overpressed spirits. 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 said, well said; the fire and the cloths.-
The rough and woful music that we have,
Cause it to sound, 'beseech you.

The vial once more;-how thou stirrest, thou block!
The music there.-I pray you, give her air.—
Gentlemen,

This queen will live. Nature awakes; a warmth
Breathes out of her; she hath not been entranced
Above five hours. See, how she 'gins to blow
Into life's flower again!

1 Gent.

The Heavens, sir,

Through you, increase our wonder, and set up

Your fame forever.

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

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

VOL. VI.

60

And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,

O dear Diana,

[She moves.

Rare as you seem to be!
Thai.
Where am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?

2 Gent. Is not this strange?

Hush, gentle neighbors ;

Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her.
Get linen; now this matter must be looked to,
For her relapse is mortal. Come, come, come;
And Esculapius guide us!

[Exeunt, carrying THAISA away.

SCENE III. Tharsus. A Room in Cleon's House.

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

Per. Most honored Cleon, I must needs be gone;
My twelve months are expired, 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 shafts of fortune, though they hurt you

mortally,1

Yet glance full wanderingly on us.

Dion.

O, your sweet queen! That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her

hither,

To have blessed mine eyes!

Per.

The powers above us.

We cannot but obey

Could I rage and roar

As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end

Must be as 'tis.

My babe Marina (whom,

1 The old copy reads:

"Your shakes of fortune, though they haunt you mortally,

Yet glance full wonderingly," &c.

The folios have "though they hate you." The emendation is by Steevens.

For she was born at sea, I have named so) here
I charge your charity withal, and leave her
The infant of your care; beseeching you

To give her princely training, that she may be
Mannered 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 relieved, 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 credit,2

Without your vows.

Till she be married, madam,

By bright Diana, whom we honor all,

Unscissored shall this hair of mine remain,
Though I show will in't. So I take my leave.
Good madam, make me blessed in your care

In bringing up my child.

Dion.

Who shall not be more dear to my respect,

Than yours, my lord.

Per.

I have one myself,

Madam, my thanks and prayers.

Cle. We'll bring your grace even to the edge o' the

shore;

Then give you up to the masked Neptune,' and

The gentlest winds of heaven.

Per.

I will embrace

Your offer. Come, dear'st madam.-O, no tears,

1 i. e. be satisfied that we cannot forget the benefits you have bestowed on us.

2 The old copy reads, "teach me to it:" the alteration was made by Steevens.

3 i. e. appear wilful, perverse by such conduct. The old copy reads in the preceding line:

"Unsistered shall this heir of mine," &c.

Lychorida, no tears;

Look to your little mistress, on whose grace
You may depend hereafter.-Come, my lord.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Ephesus. A Room in Cerimon's House.

Enter CERIMON and THAISA.

Cer. Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels, Lay with you in your coffer; which are now At your command. Know you the character? Thai. It is my lord's.

1

That I was shipped at sea, I well remember,
Even on my eaning time; but whether there
Delivered or no, 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 you speak,

Diana's temple is not distant far,

Where you may 'bide until your date expire.2
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.

1 The quarto, 1619, and the folio, 1664, which was probably printed from it, both read eaning. The first quarto reads learning. To ean or yean, in our elder language, as in the Anglo-Saxon, signified to bring forth young, without any particular reference to sheep.

2 i. e. until you die.