you must seem to do that fearfully which you commit willingly; to despise profit where you have most gain. To weep that you live as you do makes pity in your lovers: seldom but that pity begets you a good opinion, and that opinion a mere profit.

Mar. I understand you not.

Boult. O take her home, mistress, take her home these blushes of hers must be quenched with some present practice.

:

Bawd. Thou sayest true, i' faith, so they must; for your bride goes to that with shame, which is her way to go with warrant.

Boult. 'Faith some do, and some do not, But, mistress, if I have bargain'd for the joint,

Bawd. Thou mayest cut a morsel off the spit.
Boult. I may so.

Bawd. Who should deny it? Come, young one, I like the manner of your garments well.

Boult. Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet.

Bawd. Boult, spend thou that in the town: report what a sojourner we have; you'll lose nothing by custom. When nature framed this piece, she meant thee a good turn; herefore say what a paragon. she is, and thou hast the harvest out of thine own report.

Boult. I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake the beds of eels, as my giving out of her beauty stir up the lewdly-inclined. I'll bring home some to-night.

Bawd. Come your ways; follow me.

Mar. If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep,

Untied I still my virgin knot shall keep.

Diana, aid my purpose!

[Exeunt.

Bawd. What have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with us?

SCENE IV.-A Room in Cleon's House at
Tharsus.

Enter CLEON and DIONYZA.

Dion. Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone?

Cle. O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter The sun and moon ne'er looked upon !

Dion. I think you'll turn a child again.

Cle. Were I chief lord of all this spacious world,

I'd give it to undo the deed. O lady,

Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess
To equal any single crown o' the earth,

I' the justice of compare! O villain Leonine,
Whom thou hast poison'd too!

If thou hadst drunk to him, it had been a kind

ness

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.
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,

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 prime consent, he did not flow From honourable sources.

Dion. Be it So, then :

Yet none doth know, but you, how she came

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

Cle.
Thou art like the harpy,
Which, to betray, dost, 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:

yet I know you'll do as I advise. [Exeunt.

Enter GowER, before the Monument of MARINA at

Tharsus.

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

Sail seas in cockles, have, an wish but for't;
Making (to take your imagination)
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
Advanced in time to great and high estate,
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 his 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 a while; Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.

Dumb show.

Enter PERICLES at one door, with all his Train; 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. Then exeunt CLEON and DIONYZA.

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

shower'd,

Leaves Tharsus, and again embarks.

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.

[Reads the inscription on MARINA's monument.]

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

He

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 vizor 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 tears must play
His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day,
In her unholy service. Patience then,

And think you now are all in Mitylene. [Exit.