Will you, not having my consent,

Bestow your love and your affections

Upon a stranger? [Aside] who, for aught I know,

May be, nor can I think the contrary,

As great in blood as I myself.

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Therefore, hear you, mistress; either frame

Your will to mine, and you, sir, hear you,
Either be ruled by me, or I'll make you-

Man and wife:

Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too
And being join'd, I'll thus your hopes destroy;
And for a further grief, -God give you joy!

Sim. What, are you both agreed ?

Both. Yes, if't please your majesty.

Thai.

What, are you both pleased?

Per. Even as my life my blood that fosters it.

Sim. It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you wed;

And then, with what haste you can, get you to bed.

[Exeunt.

Yes, if you love me, sir.

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ACT THIRD.

Enter Gower.

Gow. Now sleep y-slaked hath the rout;
No din but snores the house about,
Made louder by the o'er-fed breast
Of this most pompous marriage-feast.
The cat, with eyne of burning coal,
Now couches 'fore the mouse's hole;
And crickets sing at the oven's mouth,

E'er the blither for their drouth.
Hymen hath brought the bride to bed,
Where, by the loss of maidenhead,
A babe is moulded. Be attent,
And time that is so briefly spent
With your fine fancies quaintly eche:
What's dumb in show I'll plain with speech.

DUMB SHOw.

Enter Pericles and Simonides at one door, with Attendants; a Messenger meets them, kneels, and gives Pericles a letter: Pericles shows it Simonides; the Lords kneel to the former. Then enter Thaisa with child, with Lychorida, a nurse : the King shows her the letter; she rejoices: she and Pericles take leave of her father, and depart with Lychorida and their Attendants. Then exeunt Simonides and the rest.

By many a dern and painful perch
Of Pericles the careful search,
By the four opposing coigns
Which the world together joins,
Is made with all due diligence
That horse and sail and high expense
Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre,
Fame answering the most strange inquire,
To the court of King Simonides
Are letters brought, the tenour these
Antiochus and his daughter dead;
The men of Tyrus on the head

Of Helicanus would set on

The crown of Tyre, but he will none :

The mutiny he there hastes t' oppress;
Says to 'em, if King Pericles

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Brought hither to Pentapolis,

Y-ravished the regions round,

And every one with claps can sound,

Our heir-apparent is a king!

Who dream'd, who thought of such a thing?'

Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre:
His queen with child makes her desire-
Which who shall cross?-along to go.
Omit we all their dole and woe :

Lychorida, her nurse, she takes,
And so to sea: their vessel shakes
On Neptune's billow; half the flood
Hath their keel cut: but fortune's mood

Varies again; the grisled north
Disgorges such a tempest forth,
That, as a duck for life that dives,
So up and down the poor ship drives :
The lady shrieks and well-a-near
Does fall in travail with her fear:
And what ensues in this fell storm
Shall for itself itself perform.
I nill relate, action may
Conveniently the rest convey;
Which might not what by me is told.
In your imagination hold

This stage the ship, upon whose deck
The sea-tost Pericles appears to speak.

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[Exit. 60

Scene I.

Enter Pericles, on shipboard.

Per. Thou god of this great vast, rebuke these surges,

Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that hast

Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,
Having call'd them from the deep! O, still

Thy deafening dreadful thunders; gently quench
Thy nimble sulphurous flashes! O, how, Lychorida,
How does my queen? Thou stormest venomously;
Wilt thou spit all thyself? The seaman's whistle

Divinest patroness and midwife gentle
To those that cry by night, convey thy deity
Aboard our dancing boat; make swift the pangs

Of my queen's travails! Now, Lychorida!

Enter Lychorida, with an Infant.

Lyc. Here is a thing too young for such a place,
Who, if it had conceit, would die, as I
Am like to do: take in your arms this piece
Of your dead queen.

Per.

How, how, Lychorida !
Lyc. Patience, good sir; do not assist the storm.
Here's all that is left living of your queen,
A little daughter: for the sake of it,
Be manly, and take comfort.

Per.

O you gods!

Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,

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And snatch them straight away? We here below

Recall not what we give, and therein may

That ever was prince's child. Happy what follows!

Thou hast as chiding a nativity

As fire, air, water, earth and heaven can make,

To herald thee from the womb: even at the first

Thy loss is more than can thy portage quit,

With all thou canst find here. Now, the good gods
Throw their best eyes upon't!

Enter two Sailors.

First Sail. What courage, sir? God save you!
Per. Courage enough: I do not fear the flaw;

It hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the love 40

Of this poor infant, this fresh-new sea-farer,

I would it would be quiet.

First Sail. Slack the bolins there! Thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow, and split thyself.

Sec. Sail. But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon, I care not.

First Sail. Sir, your queen must overboard: the sea works high, the wind is loud, and will not lie till the ship be cleared of the dead.

Per. That's your superstition.

First Sail. Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it hath been

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