1 Lord. Wrong not yourself, then, noble Helicane; But if the prince do live, let us salute him,

Or know what ground's made happy by his breath.
If in the world he live, we'll seek him out;
If in his grave he rest, we'll find him there;
And be resolved, he lives to govern us,

Or dead, gives cause to mourn his funeral,
And leaves us to our free election.

2 Lord. Whose death's, indeed, the strongest in our

censure:

And knowing this kingdom is without a head,
Like goodly buildings left without a roof,

Soon fall to ruin, your noble self,

That best know'st how to rule, and how to reign,

We thus submit unto, our sovereign.

All. Live, noble Helicane!

Hel. Try honour's cause; forbear your suffrages:
If that you love prince Pericles, forbear.

Take I your wish, I leap into the seas,
Where's hourly trouble for a minute's ease.
A twelvemonth longer, let me entreat you
To forbear the absence of your king;
If in which time expir'd he not return,
I shall with aged patience bear your yoke.
But if I cannot win you to this love,

Go search like nobles, like noble subjects,
And in your search spend your adventurous worth;
Whom if you find, and win unto return,

You shall like diamonds sit about his crown.

1 Lord. To wisdom he's a fool that will not yield: And since lord Helicane enjoineth us,

We with our travels will endeavour.

Hel. Then, you love us, we you, and we'll clasp

hands:

When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands.

VOL. VIII.

[Exeunt.

X

SCENE V.

Pentapolis. A Room in the Palace.

Enter SIMONIDES, reading a Letter: the Knights meet him.

1 Knight. Good morrow to the good Simonides. Sim. Knights, from my daughter this I let you know,

That for this twelvemonth she'll not undertake

A married life.

Her reason to herself is only known,

Which yet from her by no means can I get.

2 Knight. May we not get access to her, my lord? Sim. 'Faith, by no means; she hath so strictly tied her

To her chamber, that it is impossible.

One twelve moons more she'll wear Diana's livery;
This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vow'd,

And on her virgin honour will not break it.

3 Knight. Though loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves.

Sim. So,

[Exeunt.

They're well despatch'd; now to my daughter's letter.
She tells me here, she'll wed the stranger knight,
Or never more to view nor day nor light.

'Tis well, mistress; your choice agrees with mine;
I like that well:-nay, how absolute she's in't,
Not minding whether I dislike or no.

Well, I commend her choice,

And will no longer have it be delay'd.

Soft! here he comes: I must dissemble it.

Enter PERICLES.

Per. All fortune to the good Simonides! Sim. To you as much, sir. I am beholding to you, For your sweet music this last night: I do Protest, my ears were never better fed' With such delightful pleasing harmony.

Per. It is your grace's pleasure to commend, Not my desert.

Sim.

Sir, you are music's master.

Per. The worst of all her scholars, my good lord.
Sim. Let me ask one thing.

What do you think of my daughter, sir?

Per. As of a most virtuous princess.

Sim. And she is fair too, is she not?

Per. As a fair day in summer; wondrous fair.
Sim. My daughter, sir, thinks very well of you;
Ay, so well, sir, that you must be her master,
And she'll your scholar be: therefore, look to it.
Per. I am unworthy for her schoolmaster.
Sim. She thinks not so; peruse this writing else.
Per. [Aside.] What's here?

A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre?

'Tis the king's subtilty, to have my life.

[To him.] O! seek not to entrap me, gracious lord,

A stranger and distressed gentleman,

That never aim'd so high, to love your daughter,
But bent all offices to honour her.

Sim. Thou hast bewitch'd my daughter, and thou art A villain.

Per. By the gods, I have not,

Never did thought of mine levy offence;
Nor never did my actions yet commence

A deed might gain her love, or your displeasure.

7

were never better fed] Malone thought fit to invert the passage thus-"My ears, I do protest, were never better fed," without authority or necessity.

Sim. Traitor, thou liest.

Per.

Sim.

Traitor!

Ay, traitor.

Per. Even in his throat, unless it be the king,

That calls me traitor, I return the lie.

Sim. [Aside.] Now, by the gods, I do applaud his

courage.

Per. My actions are as noble as my thoughts,

That never relish'd of a base descent.

I came unto your court for honour's cause,
And not to be a rebel to her state;

And he that otherwise accounts of me,
This sword shall prove he's honour's enemy.
Sim. No!-

Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.

Enter THAISA.

Per. Then, as you are as virtuous as fair,
Resolve your angry father, if my tongue
Did e'er solicit, or my hand subscribe
To any syllable that made love to you?
Thai. Why, sir, if you had,

Who takes offence at that would make me glad?
Sim. Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory?—

[Aside.] I am glad on't with all my heart.

[To her.] I'll tame you; I'll bring you in subjection. 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.

Therefore, hear you, mistress; either frame
Your will to mine; and you, sir, hear you,
Either be rul'd by me, or I will 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 farther grief,—God give you joy !—
What, are you both pleas'd?

Thai.

Yes, if you love me, sir. Per. Even as my life, my blood that fosters it. Sim. What are you both agreed?

Both. Yes, if't please your majesty.

Sim. It pleaseth me so well, I'll see you wed;

Then, with what haste you can get you to bed.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

Enter GOWER.

Gow. Now sleep yslaked hath the rout;
No din but snores the house abouts,
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,
Are 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.

8 the house about,] "About the house" in every old copy; and in all but the first," Now ysleep slaked hath the rout."

9

- 'FORE the mouse's hole ;] The old copies have from for "fore," a very probable misprint, though not so necessarily.

1 quaintly ECHE;] A form of eke that is found in Chaucer and Gower, as well as in some later writers. Eke is the more modern mode of spelling the word.