And for an honest attribute, cry out,

"She died by foul play."

Cle.

O! go to. Well, well;

Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods

Do like this worst.

Dion.

Be one of those, that think

The pretty wrens of Tharsus 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.

Cle.

To such proceeding Who ever but his approbation added,

Though not his pre-consent', he did not flow

From honourable courses.

Dion.

Be it so, then;

Yet none does know, but you, how she came dead,
Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.

She did disdain my child, and stood between
Her and her fortunes: none would look on her,
But cast their gazes on Marina's face;

Whilst ours was blurted at, and held a malkin',
Not worth the time of day. It pierc'd me thorough;
And though you call my course unnatural,

You not your child well loving, yet I find,
It greets me as an enterprise of kindness,
Perform'd to your sole daughter.

Cle.

Dion. And as for Pericles,

Heavens forgive it!

What should he say? We wept after her hearse,
And even yet we mourn her monument

Is almost finish'd, and her epitaphs

In glittering golden characters express

7 his PRE-consent,] In the quarto, 1609, "his prince consent."

• She did DISDAIN my child,] Steevens plausibly suggested that we ought to read "distain my child," inasmuch as Marina did not "disdain" Philoten, but show her off to disadvantage. The old copies afford a clear meaning.

9 - and held a MALKIN,]

-

A "malkin" is a low wench. We have had

"kitchen malkin" in "Coriolanus," Vol. vi. p. 178.

A general praise to her, and care in us
At whose expense 'tis done.

Cle.
Thou art like the harpy,
Which, to betray, doth with thine angel's face,
Seize with thine eagle's talons.

Dion. You are like one, that superstitiously
Doth swear to the gods, that winter kills the flies:
But yet, I know, you'll do as I advise.

[Exeunt.

Enter GoWER, before the Monument of MARINA at
Tharsus1.

Gow. Thus time we waste, and longest leagues
make short;

Sail seas in cockles, have, and wish but for't;
Making (to take your imagination2)
From bourn to bourn, region to region.
By you being pardon'd, we commit no crime
To use one language, in each several clime,
Where our scenes seem to live. I do beseech you,
To learn of me, who stand i' the gaps to teach you,
The stages of our story. Pericles

Is now again thwarting the wayward seas,
Attended on by many a lord and knight,
To see his daughter, all his life's delight.
Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late 3
Advanc'd in time to great and high estate,

At Tharsus.] Here, according to the folio, 1664, in which the Acts are first marked, Act iv. commences.

2

(to take your imagination,)] In all the old copies, "our imagination." 3 Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late, &c.] In every old copy these lines are

"Old Helicanus goes along behind

Is left to governe it, you beare in mind.

Old Escanes whom Helicanus late

Advanc'd in time to great and hie estate.

Well sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought
This king to Tharsus," &c.

The transposition, suggested by Steevens, renders the passage clear.

Is left to govern. Bear you it in mind,
Old Helicanus goes along behind.

Well-sailing ships, and bounteous winds, have
brought

This king to Tharsus, (think this pilot thought,
So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on')
To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.
Like motes and shadows see them move awhile;
Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.

Dumb show.

Enter PERICLES with his Train, at one door; CLEON and DIONYZA at the other. CLEON shows PERICLES the Tomb of MARINA; whereat PERICLES makes lamentation, puts on Sackcloth, and in a mighty passion departs.

Gow. See, how belief may suffer by foul show! This borrow'd passion stands for true old woe; And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,

With sighs shot through, and biggest tears o'er

show'r'd,

Leaves Tharsus, 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
The epitaph is for Marina writ

By wicked Dionyza.

"The fairest, sweet'st, and best, lies here,
Who wither'd in her spring of year:
She was of Tyrus, the king's daughter,

On whom foul death hath made this slaughter.

4

your thoughts GROW ON] Grone, for "grow on," in all the old copies.

Now, please you, wIT] Now, be pleased to know. The word is still in use. VOL. VIII.

Z

Marina was she call'd; and at her birth,

Thetis, being proud, swallow'd some part o' the earth :

Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,

Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd:
Wherefore she does (and swears she'll never stint)
Make raging battery upon shores of flint."

No visor does become black villany,
So well as soft and tender flattery.
Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,
And bear his courses to be ordered
By lady fortune; while our scene must play
His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day,
In her unholy service. Patience then,
And think you now are all in Mitylen.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

Mitylene. A Street before the Brothel.

Enter from the Brothel, Two Gentlemen.

1 Gent. Did you ever hear the like?

2 Gent. No; nor never shall do in such a place as this, she being once gone.

1 Gent. But to have divinity preached there! did you ever dream of such a thing?

2 Gent. No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdyhouses. Shall we go hear the vestals sing?

1 Gent. I'll do any thing now that is virtuous; but I am out of the road of rutting for ever.

[Exeunt.

THETIS, being proud,] Every old copy corruptly reads, "That is being proud." Malone complains that the strange blunder is committed in the "modern editions," as if it were not found elsewhere.

SCENE VI.

The Same. A Room in the Brothel.

Enter PANDER, Bawd, and Boult.

Pand. Well, I had rather than twice the worth of her, she had ne'er come here.

Bawd. Fie, fie upon her! she is able to freeze the god Priapus, and undo a whole generation: we must either get her ravished, or be rid of her. When she should do for clients her fitment, and do me the kindness of our profession, she has me her quirks, her reasons, her master reasons, her prayers, her knees, that she would make a puritan of the devil, if he should cheapen a kiss of her.

Boult. Faith, I must ravish her, or she'll disfurnish us of all our cavaliers, and make all our swearers priests.

Pand. Now, the pox upon her green-sickness for me!

Bawd. 'Faith, there's no way to be rid on't, but by the way to the pox. Here comes the lord Lysimachus, disguised.

Boult. We should have both lord and lown, if the peevish baggage would but give way to customers.

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; 'tis the better for you that your resorters stand upon sound legs. How now, whole