His kingly hands, haling ropes;

And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea That almost burst the deck,·

Leon. When was this?

Mar. When I was born;

55

60

Never was waves nor wind more violent;
And from the ladder-tackle washes off
A canvas-climber. "Ha!" says one, "wilt
out?"

And with a dropping industry they skip

From stem to stern. The boatswain whistles, and

The master calls, and trebles their confusion. 65 Leon. Come, say your prayers.

Mar. What mean you?

Leon. If you require a little space for prayer, I grant it. Pray, but be not tedious;

For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn 70 To do my work with haste.

Mar.

Why will you kill me?

Leon. To satisfy my lady.
Mar. Why would she have me kill'd?
Now, as I can remember, by my troth,
never did her hurt in all my life.

I

I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn any living creature. Believe me, la,

Το

I never kill'd a mouse, nor hurt a fly,
Aye, trod upon a worm against my will,

But I wept for it. How have I offended,

Wherein my death might yield her any profit, Or my life imply her any danger?

Leon. My commission

Is not to reason of the deed, but do 't.

75

80

Mar. You will not do 't for all the world, I

You are well favoured, and your looks foreshow
You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately,
When you caught hurt in parting two that
fought;

Good sooth, it show'd well in you. Do so now.
Your lady seeks my life; come you between, 90
And save poor me, the weaker.
Leon.
I am sworn,

And will dispatch.

Boult. Ay, to eleven; and brought them down again. But shall I search the market? 18 Bawd. What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong wind will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully sodden.

21

Pand. Thou sayest true; they're too unwholesome, o conscience. The poor Transylvanian is dead, that lay with the little baggage.

Boult. Ay, she quickly poop'd him; she made him roast-meat for worms. But I'll go search the market. [Exit. 27

Pand. Three or four thousand chequins were as pretty a proportion to live quietly, and so give over.

Bawd. Why to give over, I pray you? Is it a shame to get when we are old?

32

Pand. O, our credit comes not in like the commodity, nor the commodity wages not with

Becoming well thy fact. 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.

15

She died at night; I'll say so. Who can cross it ?

Unless you play the pious innocent,
And for an honest attribute cry out
She died by foul play.

Cle.
O, go to. Well, well, 19
Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods
Do like this worst.

Dion.
Be one of those that thinks
The petty wrens of Tarsus will fly hence,
And open this to Pericles. I do shame

To think of what a noble strain you are,
And of how coward a spirit.

24

Cle. To such proceeding Who ever but his approbation added, Though not his prime consent, he did not flow From honourable sources.

Dion.

Be it so, then.

Is left to govern it, you bear in mind,
Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late
Advanc'd in time to great and high estate.
Well-sailing ships and bounteous winds have
brought

This king to Tarsus - think his pilot thought;
So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow

Enter Pericles, at one door, with all his train: Cleon and Dionyza, at the other. Cleon shows Pericles the tomb; whereat Pericles makes lamentation, puts on sackcloth, and in a mighty passion departs. [Then exeunt Cleon and Dionyza.]

25

See how belief may suffer by foul show!
This borrowed passion stands for true old woe;
And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,
With sighs shot through, and biggest tears
o'ershower'd,

Leaves Tarsus 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

30

Enter LYSIMACHUS.

Lys. How now! How a dozen of virginities? Bawd. Now, the gods to-bless your honour! Boult. I am glad to see your honour in good health.

Lys. You may so; 't is the better for you that your resorters stand upon sound legs. How now, wholesome iniquity! have you that a man may deal withal, and defy the surgeon?

Bawd. We have here one, sir, if she would but there never came her like in Mytilene. ai Lys. If she 'd do the deeds of darkness, thou wouldst say.

Bawd. Your honour knows what 't is to say well enough.

Lys. Well, call forth, call forth.

Boult. For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you shall see a rose; and she were a rose indeed, if she had but

Lys. What, prithee?

Boult. O, sir, I can be modest.

[Exit.]

Lys. That dignifies the renown of a bawd, no less than it gives a good report to a number to be chaste.

175

Of hell would not in reputation change. Thou art the damned doorkeeper to every Coistrel that comes inquiring for his Tib. To the choleric fisting of every rogue Thy ear is liable; thy food is such As hath been belch'd on by infected lungs. 179 Boult. What would you have me do? Go to the wars, would you, where a man may serve seven years for the loss of a leg, and have not money enough in the end to buy him a wooden one?

Mar. Do anything but this thou doest. Empty

185

Old receptacles, or common sewers, of filth;
Serve by indenture to the common hangman.
Any of these ways are yet better than this;
For what thou professest, a baboon, could he
speak,

Would own a name too dear. O, that the gods
Would safely deliver me from this place!
Here, here's gold for thee.

If that thy master would gain by me,

191