Classic Audiobook Collection - Pericles, Prince of Tyre by William Shakespeare ~ Full Audiobook [romance]

Episode Date: May 1, 2025

Pericles, Prince of Tyre by William Shakespeare audiobook. Genre: romance A wandering prince and a deadly secret collide in Pericles, Prince of Tyre, one of Shakespeare's most sea-swept tales of peril, endurance, and improbable hope. When Pericles uncovers a terrifying truth at the court of Antioch, he is forced to flee for his life, launching a journey across the Mediterranean where every harbor brings a new trial. Storms shatter ships, political intrigue shadows acts of charity, and the prince must weigh survival against honor as he seeks refuge in Tarsus and later the lively kingdom of Pentapolis. There, a tournament and a meeting with the spirited Thaisa offer a rare moment of joy - but fortune turns again, and separation, rumor, and loss threaten to break what love has built. Years later, another young life enters the story: Marina, whose courage and integrity are tested in a world that tries to trade innocence for profit. Moving between courtly ceremony and rough coastline danger, the play explores how virtue can persist through chaos, how communities can both shelter and betray, and how a battered soul keeps faith when the sea will not stay calm. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 1 (00:30:59) Chapter 2 (01:02:14) Chapter 3 (01:21:38) Chapter 4 (01:58:20) Chapter 5 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

prologue and act one of pericles prince of tyre by william shakespeare prologue enter gower to sing a song that old was sung from ashes ancient gower is come assuming man's infirmities to glad your ear and please your eyes it hath been sung at festivals on ember eaves and holy ails and lords and ladies in their lives have read it for restoratives the purchases to make men glorious et bonum quaintiquius eo melius if you born in these latter times when wits more ripe accept my rhymes and that to hear an old man sing may to your wishes pleasure bring i life would wish and that i might waste it for you like taperlight this antioch then antiochus the great built up this city, for his chiefest seat, the fairest in all Syria, I tell you what mine authors say. This king unto him took a fair, who died and left a female heir, so pucksome, blithe and full of face, as heaven had lent her all his grace, with whom

the father liking took, and her to incest did provoke, pad child, worse father, to entice his own to evil, should be done by none. But custom what they did begin was with long use, account, no sin. The beauty of this sinful dame made many princes thither frame to seek her as a bedfellow, marriage pleasures playfellow, which to prevent he made a law to keep her still, and man in awe, that whoso asked her for his wife, his riddle told not, lost his life. So for her many a white did die, as young grim looks do testify. now in soes, to the judgment of your eye, I give, my cause who best can justify.

Exit. Act 1, Scene 1. Antioch, a room in the palace. Enter Antigasus, Prince Pericles, and followers. Young Prince of Tyre, you have at large received the danger of the task you undertake. I have Antiochus, and with a sword. with a soul emboldened with the glory of her praise, think death no hazard in this enterprise. Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride, for the embracements even of Jove himself,

at whose conception till Lucina reigned, nature this dowry gave to glad her presence. The Senate House of Planets all did sit to knit in her their best perfections. Music, enter the daughter of Antigasus. See where she comes, apparelled like the spring. Graces her subjects and her thoughts the king of every virtue gives renown to men. Her face, the book of praises, where is read nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence sorrow were ever raised and testy wrath, could never be her mild companion.

You gods that made me man and sway in love, that have inflamed desire in my breast to taste the fruit of young, celestial tree or die in the adventure be my helps as i am son and servant to your will to compass such a boundless happiness prince pericles that would be the sun to great antiochus before thee stands this fair hesperides with golden fruit but dangerous to be touched for death-like dragons here affright thee hard her face like heaven enticeth thee to view her countless glory, which desert must gain, and which, without desert, because thine eye presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die. You sometimes famous princes like myself, drawn by report, adventurous by desire, tell thee with speechless tongues and semblance pale, that without covering, save yon field of stars, here they stand martyrs,

slain in Cupid's wars, and with dead cheeks advise thee to desist for going on death's net, whom none resist. Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught my frail mortality to know itself, and by those fearful objects to prepare this body, like to them, to what I must. For death remembered should be like a mirror, who tells us life's but breath to trust it error. I'll make my will then, and as sick men do, who know the world, see heaven, but feeling woe, gripe not at earthly joys as earth they did, so I bequeath a happy peace to you, and all good men, as every prince should do. My riches to the earth, they came, but my unspotted fire of love to you.

To the daughter of Antichus. Thus ready for the way of life or death I wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus. Scorning advice, read the conclusion then, which read and not expounded tis decreed, As these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed. Of all said yet, mayst thou prove prosperous. Of all said yet, I wish thee happiness. Like a bold champion, I assume the lists. Nor ask advice of any other thought but faithfulness and courage.

He reads the riddle. I am no viper, yet I feed on mother's flesh which did me breed. I sought a husband in which labor I found that kindness in a father. his father son and husband mild i mother wife and yet his child how they may be and yet in two as you will live resolve it you sharp physic is the last but oh you powers that give heaven countless eyes to view men's acts why cloud they not their sights perpetually if this be true which makes me pale to read it fair glass of light i loved you and could still takes hold of the hand of the daughter of antigasus were not this glorious casket stored with ill but i must tell you now my thoughts revolt for he's no man on whom perfections wait that knowing sin within will touch the gate you are a fair vile and your sense the strings who fingered to make man his lawful music would draw heaven down and all the gods to hearken. But being played upon before your time, hell only

dances that so harsher chime. Good sooth, I care not for you. Prince Pericles touch not upon thy life. Well, that's an article within our law, as dangerous as the rest. Your time's expired. either expound now or receive your sentence. Great king, few love to hear the sins they love to act. It would braid yourself too near for me to tell it. Who has a book of all that monarchs do, he's more secure to keep it shut than shown, for vice repeated is like the wandering wind,

blows dust in others' eyes to spread itself. And yet the end of all is bought thus dear. is gone and the sore eyes see clear to stop the air would hurt them the blind mole cast copped hills toward heaven to tell the earth is thronged by man's oppression and the poor worm doth die for it kings are earth's gods in vice their laws their will and if jove stray who dares say jove doth ill it is enough you know and it is fit what being more known grown worse to smother it all love the womb that their first being bred then give my tongue like leave to love my head aside heaven that i had thy head he has found the meaning but i will glose with him young prince of tyre though by the tenor of our strict edict your exposition misinterpreting we might proceed to cancel of your days yet hope succeeding from so fair a tree as your fair self doth tune us otherwise forty days longer we do respite you if by which time our secret be undone this mercy shows will joy in such a sun and until then your entertain shall be as doth be fit our honour and your worth

Exceant all but Pericles. How courtesy would seem to cover sin! When what is done is like a hypocrite. The witch is good in nothing but in sight. If it be true that I interpret false, then were it certain you were not so bad as with foul incest to abuse your soul, where now you are both a father and a son, by your untimely claspings with your child,

which pleasure fits an husband not a father, and she, an eater of her mother's flesh, by the defiling of her parents' bed, and both like serpents are. Who, though they feed on sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed? Antioch farewell. For wisdom sees those men blush not in actions blacker than the night,

will shun no course to keep them from the light. One sin, I know, another doth provoke. murders as near to lust as flame to smoke poison and treason are the hands of sin i and the targets to put off the shame then lest my lie be cropped to keep you clear by flight i'll shun the danger which i fear exit re-enter antigisus he hath found the meaning for which we mean to have his head he must not live to trumpet forth my infamy, nor tell the world Antiochus doth sin in such a loathed manner. And therefore instantly this prince must die. For by his fall my honour must keep high. Who attends us there?

Enter Thaliard. Doth your highness call? Thaliard, you are of our chamber, and our mind partakes her private actions to your secrecy, and for your faithfulness we will advance you. Thou liard, behold, here's poison, and here's gold. We hate the Prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him. It fits thee not to ask the reason why, because we bid it. Say, is it done?

My lord, tis done. Enough. Enter a messenger. Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste. My lord, Prince Pericles, his fleet. Exit. As thou wilt live, fly after. And like an arrow shot from a well-experienced archer hits the mark his eye doth level at,

So thou ne'er return, unless thou say, Prince Pericles is dead. My lord, if I can get him within my pistol's length, I'll make him sure enough. So, farewell to your highness. Farewell to your highness. Dalyard, adieu. Exit, Thalyard. Till Pericles be dead, My heart can lend no succor to my head.

Exit. Scene two. Tire, a room in the palace. Enter Pericles. To words without. Let none disturb us. Why should this change of thoughts? The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy,

be my so used to get. as not an hour in the day's glorious walk or a peaceful night the tomb where grief should sleep can breed me quiet here pleasures court mine eyes and mine eyes shun them and danger which i feared is at antioch whose aim seems far too short to hit me here yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits nor yet the other's distance comfort me then it is thus the passions of the most the passions of the moment mind, that have their first conception by misdread, have after-nourishment and life by care. And what was first but fear what might be done, grows elder now, and cares it be not done. And so with me. The great Antiochus, against whom I am too little to contend, since he's so great can make his will his act, will think me speaking, though I swear to silence, nor boots it me to say I

honor him if he suspect i may dishonour him and what may make him blush in being known he'll stop the course by which it might be known with hostile forces he'll o'erspread the land and with the ostent of war will look so huge amazement shall drive courage from the state our men be vanquished ere they do resist and subjects punished that ne'er thought offence which care of them not pity myself, who am no more but as the tops of trees, which fence the roots they grow by and defend them, makes both my body pine and soul to languish, and punish that before, that he would punish. Enter Helicanus with other words. Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast. And keep your mind till you return to us, peaceful and comfortable. Peace, peace.

give experience tongue. They do abuse the king that flatter him, for flattery is the bellows blows up sin, the thing which is flattered, but a spark to which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing, whereas reproof, obedient and in order, fits kings, as they are men, for they may err. When Signor Sooth here does proclaim a peace,

he flatters you, makes war upon your life. Prince, pardon me or strike me, if you please. I cannot be much lower than my knees. Oh, leave us else. But led your cares or look what shipping and what ladings in our haven, and then return to us. Exeate words. Helicanus, thou hast moved us.

What seest thou in our looks? An angry brow, dread lord. If there be such a dart in prince's frowns, How durst thy tongue move anger to our face? How dare the plants look up to heaven, From whence they have their nourishment? Thou knowest I have power to take thy life from thee. Kneeling.

I have ground the axe myself. You do but strike the blow. Rise, prithee, rise. Sit down. Now art no flatterer. I thank thee for it, and heaven forbid that kings should let their ears hear their false hid. fit counsellor and servant for a prince, who by thy wisdom makes a prince, thy servant.

What wouldst thou have me do? To bear with patience, such griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself. Thou speakst like a physician, Helicanus, that ministerest a potion unto me, that thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself. Attend me, then. I went to Antioch, whereas thou knowest against the face of death, i sought the purchase of a glorious beauty from whence an issue i might propagate our arms to princes and bring joys to subject her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder the rest hark in thine ear as black as incest which by my knowledge found the sinful father seemed not to strike but smooth and thou know'st this tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss

such fear so grew in me i hither fled under the covering of a careful knight who seemed my good protector and being here bethought me what was past and what might succeed i knew him tyranness and tyrant's fears decrease not but grow faster than the years and should he doubt it as no doubt he doth that i should open to the listening air how many worthy prince's bloods were shed to keep his bed of blackness unlaid oak to lop that doubt he'll fill this land with arms and make pretensive wrong that i have done him when all for mine if i may call offence must feel wars blow who spares not innocence which love to all of which thyself art one who now reproves me for it Alas, sir. I drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks, musings into my mind, with thousand doubts how I might stop this tempest ere it came, and finding little comfort to relieve them,

I thought it princely charity to grieve them. Well, my lord, since you have given me leave to speak, freely will I speak. Antiochus you fear, and justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant, who either by public war or private treason will take away your life. Therefore, my lord, go travel for a while, till that his rage and anger be forgot, or till the destinies do cut his thread of life.

You will rule direct to any, if to me, day serves not light more faithful than I'll be. I do not doubt thy faith, but should he wrong my liberties and my absence? We'll mingle our bloods together in the earth, from whence we had our being and or birth. Tire, I now look from thee then, and to Tarsus intend my travel, where I'll hear from thee, and by whose letters I'll dispose myself. The care I had and have of subjects good, on thee I lay whose wisdom's strength can bear it. I'll take their word for faith, not ask thine oath, who shuns not to break one, will sure crack both, but in our orbs will live so round and safe,

The time of both this truth Shall ne'er convince, thou show'st of subjects shine, I a true prince. Exeunt. Scene three. Tire, an antechamber in the palace. Enter, Thalyard. So, this is Tire, and this is the court.

Here must I kill King Pericles, and if I do it not, I am sure to be hanged at home. It is dangerous. Well, I perceive he was a wise fellow and had good discretion that, being bid to ask what he would do of the king, desired he might know none of his secrets. Now, do I see he had some reason for it. If the king bid a man be a villain, he's bound by the indenture of his oath to be one. Hush!

Here comes to Lords of Tyre. Enter Helicanus and Escanes with other gourds of Tyre. You shall not need, my fellow peers of Tyre. Further to question me of your king's departure, His sealed commission, left in trust with me, doth speak sufficiently he's gone to travel. Aside. How? The king, gone? If further yet you will be satisfied, why, as it were unlicensed of your loves, he would depart.

I'll give some light unto you. Being at Antioch? Aside. What? From Antioch? Royal Antiochus, on what cause I know not, took. took some displeasure at him, at least he judged so, and doubting lest that he had erred or sinned, to show his sorrow, healed correct himself, so puts himself into the shipment's toil, with whom each minute threatens life or death. Aside. Well, I perceive I shall not be hanged now, although I would, but since he's gone, the king's seas must please. He escaped the land to perish at the sea. I'll present myself. Peace to the Lords of Tyre.

Lord Thaliard, from Antiochus, is welcome. From him I come, with message unto Princeley Pericles. But since my landing I have understood, your lord has betook himself to unknown travels. My message must return for whence it came. We have no reason to desire it. Commended to our master, not to us. Yet, ere you shall depart, this we desire. As friends to Antioch, we may feast in Tyre.

exeant scene four tarsus a room in the governor's house enter cleon the governor of tarsus with dionysa and others my dionysa shall we rest here and by relating tales of others grieves see if twill teach us to forget our own that were to blow at fire and hope to quench it for who digs hills because they do aspire throws down one mountain to cast up a higher O my distress'd Lord, even such our griefs are. Here they're but felt and seen with mischief's eyes, But like to groves being topped, they higher rise. O Dionyser, who wanteth food and will not say he wants it, Or can conceal his hunger till he famish? Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep,

Our woes into the air, Our eyes do weep, Till tongues fetch breath that may proclaim them louder, that if heaven slumber while their creatures want, they may awake their helps to comfort them. I'll then discourse our woes, felt several years, and wanting breath to speak. Help me with tears. I'll do my best, sir.

This tarsus, or which I have the government, a city on whom plenty held full hand, for riches strewed herself even in the streets, whose towers bore heads so high they kissed the clouds, and strangers near beheld. but wanted at, whose men and dames so jetted and adorned, like one another's glass to trim them by. Their tables were stored full, to glad the sight, and not so much to feed on as delight. All poverty was scorned, and pride so great, the name of help grew odious to repeat. O tis too true! But see what heaven can do! By this I change these mouths, who but of late earth, sea, and air, were all too little to content and please. Although they gave their

creatures in abundance, as houses are defiled for want of use, they are now starved for want of exercise. Those pallets, who not yet two summers younger, must have inventions to delight the taste, would now be glad of bread and beg for it. Those mothers who, to nossil up their babes, thought not too curious, are ready now to eat those little darlings whom they loved, so she Sharba hunger's teeth, that man and wife draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life. Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping. Here many sink, yet those which see them fall, have scarce strength left to give them burial. Is not this true?

Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it! O let those cities, that of Plenty's cup, and her prosperities so largely taste, with their superfluous riots hear these tears, the misery of Tarsus may be there, There's. Enter a lord. Where's the Lord, Governor? Here, speak out thy sorrows which thou bringest in haste, for comfort is too far for us to expect. We have described, upon our neighbouring shore, a portly sail of ships, make hitherward.

I thought as much. One sorrow never comes but brings an air that may succeed as an inheritor. And so in ours some neighboring nation taking advantage of us. taking advantage of our misery, hath stuffed these hollow vessels with their power, to beat us down, the which are down already, and make a conquest of unhappy me, whereas no glory's got to overcome. That's the least fear, for, by the semblance of their white flags displayed, they bring us peace, and come to us as favourers, not as foes. Thou speakest like hymns untutored to repeat

Who makes the fairest show means most deceit But bring they what they will and what they can What need we fear The ground's the lowest and we are halfway there Go tell their general we attend him here To know for what he comes and whence he comes And what he craves Ego, my lord

Exit Welcome is peace if he on peace consist If wars we are unethethed are unable to resist. Enter Pericles with attendance. Lord Governor, for so we hear you are, let not our ships and number of our men be like a beacon fired to amaze your eyes. We have heard your miseries as far as tire, and seen the desolation of your streets.

Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears, but to relieve them of their heavy load. And these are ships you happily may think are like the Trojan horse was stuffed within, with bloody veins expecting overthrow, are stored with corn to make your needy bread, and give them life whom hunger starved half dead. The gods of Greece protect you, and we'll pray for you. Arise, I pray you, rise. We do not look for reverence but to love, and harbourage for ourselves, our ships, and men. The which, when any, shall not gratify, or pay you with unthinkfulness and thought,

be it our wives our children or ourselves. The curse of heaven and men succeed their evils. Till when, the which I hope shall ne'er be seen. Your grace is welcome to our town and us. Which welcome we'll accept? Feast here a while, until our stars that frown lend us a smile. Excient. End of Act 1.

Act 2 of Pericles, Prince of Tyre. William Shakespeare. This is the Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Act two, scene one. Pentapolis, an open place by the seaside. Enter Pericles, wet. Yet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven. Wind, rain, and thunder, Remember earthly man is but a substance that must yield to you, and I, as fits my nature do obey you. Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks, washed me from shore to shore, and left me breath nothing to think on but ensuing death. Let it suffice the greatness of your powers to have bereft a prince of all his fortunes,

and having thrown him from your watery grave, here to have death in peace is all he'll crave. Enter three fishermen. What hell, Pilch? Huh, come and bring away the nets. What patch breach I say? What say you, Master? Look how thou stirrest now. Come away, or I'll fetch thee with a wanion. Faith, Master. I am thinking of the poor men that were cast away before us even now.

Alas, poor souls, it grieved my heart to hear what pitiful cries they made to us help them, when well a day we could scarce self ourselves. Nay, Master, said not I as much when I saw the porpoise, how he bounced and tumbled. They say they're half fish, half flesh. A plague on them, they ne'er come but when I look to be washed. Master, I marvel how the fishes live in the sea. why has been to a land the great ones eat up the little ones i can compare our rich misers to nothing so fitly as to a while they plays and tumbles drive in the poor fry before him and at last devours them all at a mouthful such whales have i heard on o'er the land who never leave giping till they've swelled the hell parish church steeple bells and all aside a pretty moral but master if i had been the sexton i would have been that day in the belfry

why man because he should have swallowed me too and when i had been in his belly i would have kept such a jangling of the bells that he should never have left till he cast his bells steeple church and parish up again but if the good king simonadies were of my mind. Aside. Simonides. We would purge the land of these drones that rob the bee of her honey. Aside. How from the finny subject of the sea these fishers tell the infirmities of men, and from their watery empire recollect all that may men approve or men detect.

Peace be at your labor, honest fisherman. Honest, good fellow, what's that? If it be a day fits you, search out the calendar, and nobody look after it. May see the sea hath cast upon your coast. What a drunken knave was the sea to cast thee in our way. A man whom both the waters and the wind in that vast tennis court have made the ball for them to play upon, entreats you pity him. He asks of you. I never used to beg. No, friend, cannot you beg.

There's them in our country, Greece gets more with begging than we can do with working. Canst thou catch any fishes, then? I never practiced it. Nay, then thou wilt starve, sure, for here's nothing to be got nowadays unless thou canst fish for it. What I have been, I have forgot to know. But what I am, what teaches me to think on, a man thronged up with cold, my veins are chill, have no more of life than may suffice to give my tongue that heat to ask your help which if you shall refuse when i am dead for that i am a man pray see me buried die quota now god's forbid i have a gown here come put it on keep thee warm now afore me an handsome fellow come thou shalt go home and we'll have flesh for holidays

fish for fasting days, and moreover puddings and flapchecks, and thou shalt be welcome. I thank you, sir. Hark, my friend, you said you could not beg. I did but crave. But crave! Then I'll turn craver too, and so I shall scape whipping. Why are all your beggars whipped then? Oh, not all, my friend, not all.

For if all your beggars were whipped, I will. wish no better office than to be beedal. But, master, I'll go draw up the net. Exit with third fisherman. Aside. How well this honest mirth becomes their labor. Huck you, sir. Do you know where ye are? Not well. Why, I'll tell you, this is called Pentapolis, and our king, the good Simonides. The good king Simonides, do you call him?

i sir and he deserves so to be called for his peaceable rhine and good government he is a happy king since he gains from his subjects the name of good by his government how far is his court distant from this shore marry sir affidai's journey and i'll tell you ye hath a fair daughter and to-morrow is her birthday and there are princes and knights come from all parts of the world to just and terny for her love were my fortunes equal to my desires i could wish to make one there oh sir things must be as they may and what a man cannot get he may he may luffer deal for. His wife's so. Reenter second and third fisherman, drawing up a net. Help, master, help! Here's a fish hangs in the net, like a poor man's right in the law. Twill hardly come out. Ha! But's on it, tis come at last, and tis turned to a rusty armor. An armor, friends. I pray you, let me see it. Thanks, fortune. that after all my crosses thou giv'st thou giv'st me something to repair myself and though it was mine own part of my heritage which my dead father did bequeath to me with this strict charge even as he left his life keep it my pericles it hath been a shield which me in death and pointed to this brace for that it saved me keep it in like necessity to which the gods protect thee from may defend thee

it kept where I kept I so dearly loved it Till the rough seas That spare not any man Took it in rage Though calmed have given it again I thank thee for it My shipwreck now's no ill

Since I have here my father's gift In his will What mean you, sir? To beg of you, kind friends This coat of worth For it was sometime target to a king I know it by this mark He loved me dearly

and for his sake I wish the having of it, and that you'd guide me to your sovereign's court, where with it I may appear a gentleman. And if that ever my low fortune's better, I'll pay your bounties, till then rest your debtor. Why wilt thou turn ye for the lady? I'll show the virtue I have borne in arms. Why do we take it, and the gods give thee good on it?

I, but hark you, my friend, "'Twas we that made up this garment "'through the rough seams of the waters. "'There are certain condolments, certain veils. "'I hope, sir, if you thrive, "'you'll remember from whence you had it.' "'Believe it, I will. "'By your furtherance, I am clothed in steel.

"'And spite of all the rapture of the sea, "'this jewel holds his building on my arm. "'Unto thy value, I will mount myself upon a courser, whose delightful steps shall make the gaiser joy to see him tread. Only, my friend, I am yet unprovided of a pair of bases. We'll sure provide. Thou shalt have my best gown to make thee a pair, and I'll bring thee to the court myself. Then honor will be but a goal to my will. This day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill.

exeant act two scene two the same a public way or platform leading to the lists a pavilion by the side of it for the reception of king princess lords and company inter simonetes the yssa lords and attendants are the dyes ready to begin the triumph they are my liege and stay your coming to present themselves retile them we are ready we are ready and our daughter in honour of whose birth these triumphs are sits here like beauty's child whom nature gat for men to see and seeing wonder at exit o lord it pleaseth you my royal father to express my commendations great whose merits less it's fit it should be so for princes are unbottle which heaven makes like to itself as jewels lose their glory if they neglected, so princes their renowns if not respected. Tis now your honour, daughter, do explain the labour of each knight in his device. Which, to preserve mine honour, I'll perform. Enter a knight. He passes over, and his squire presents his shield to the princess. Who is the first that doth prefer himself?

A knight of Sparta, my renowned father, and the device he bears upon his shield is a black Ethiope reaching at the sun, the word, Luxe Tua Wita Miki. He loves you well that holds his life of you. The second knight passes over. Who is the second that presents himself? A prince of Macedon, my royal father, and the device he bears upon his shield, is an armed knight that's conquered by a lady. The motto thus in Spanish,

Pio poldo do sura, that per fuerza. The third knight passes over. And what's the third? The third of Antioch, and his device, a wreath of chivalry, the word, may Pompei proexite apex. The fourth knight passes over. What is the farth? A burning torch that's turned upside down.

The word, Cod may alit, may extinguit. Which shows that beauty hath his power and will, which can as well inflame as it can kill. The fifth knight passes over. The fifth, and hand-invironid with clouds, holding out gold that spire the touchstone tried. The motto thus, six spectanda fetus. The sixth knight, Pericles, passes over. And what's the sixth and last, the which the knight himself, with such a graceful courtesy, delivered?

He seems to be a stranger, but is present as a withered branch that's only green at top. The motto in Haxpea vivo. A pretty moral. From the dejected state wherein he is, He hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish. He had need mean better than his outward show Can any way speak in his just command, Or by his rusty outside he appears

To have practiced more the whip-stop than the lance. He well may be a stranger, For he comes to an honored triumph, strangely furnished. And on set purpose, Let his armor rust, this day, to scour it in the dust. Opinions but a fool that makes us scound the outward habit by the inward man. But stay, the knights are coming.

We will withdraw into the gallery. Exeunt. Great shouts within, and all cry, the mean knight! Act two, scene three. The same, a hall of state, a banquet prepared. Enter Seminides, Thaisa, Thaisa. words, attendance, and knights from tilting. Knights. To say your welcome were superfluous.

To place upon the volume of your deeds, as in a title page, your worth at arms, were more than you expect, or more than's fit, since every worth in show commends itself. Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast. You are princes and by guests. But you, my knight and guest, to whom this wreath of victory I give, and crown you king of this day's happiness. Tis more by fortune, lady, than by merit. Call it by what you will, the day is yours, and here, I hope, is none that envies it.

In framing an artist, art has thus decreed to make some good, but others to exceed, and you are her laboured scholar. Come, Queen of the Feast, four daughters, so you are. Here, take your place. Marshal the rest, as they deserve their grace. We are honoured much by good Simonides. Your presence glides our days. Honour we love. For who hates honour, hates the gods above. Sir, yonder is your place. Some other is more fit.

not, sir, for we are gentlemen that neither in our hearts nor outward eyes envy the great, nor do the low despise. You are right courteous knights. Sit, sit, sit, sit. By Jove, I wonder, that is king of thoughts. These Cates resist me she but thought upon. By Juno that is queen of marriage, all vians that I eat do seem unsavory, wishing him my meat.

Sure, he's a gallant gentleman. he's but a country gentleman has done no more than other knights have done has broken a staff or so so let it pass to me he seems like diamond to glass yon kings to me like to my father's picture which tells me in that glory once he was had princes sit like stars about his throne and he the son for them to reverence none that beheld him but like lesser light did their crowns to his supremacy where now his sons like a glow-worm in the night the witch hath fire and darkness none in light whereby i see that times the king of men he's both their parent and he is their grave and give them what he will not what they crave what are you many knights who can be other in this royal presence here with a couple of that stored unto the brim as you do love filled to your mistress's lips we drink this health to you we thank your grace yet pause awhile your night doth sit to melancholy as if the entertainment in our court had not a show might countervail his worth noted not you taiza what is it to me my father oh attend my daughter princes and is should live like gods above who freely give to every one that comes to honour them and princes not doing so are like to gnats which make a sound but killed are wondered at therefore to make his entrance more sweet here say we drink this standing bowl of wine to him

alas my father it befits me not into his stranger knight to be so bold he may take my proffer for an offence since men take women's gifts for impudence. How? Do as I bid you, or you'll move me else. Aside. Now by the gods he could not please me better. And furthermore, tell him, we desire to know of him of whence he is his name and parentage. The king, my father, sir, has drunk to you.

I thank him. Wishing it so much blood unto your life. I thank both him and you and pledge him freely. And furthermore, he desires to know of you, of whence you are, your name in parentage. A gentleman of Tyre, my name, Pericles, my education being in arts and arms, who looking for adventures in the world was by the rough seas, raft of ships and men and after shipwreck driven upon this shore? He thanks your grace, names himself Paracles, a gentleman of Tyre, who only by misfortune of the seas,

bereft of ships and men cast on this shore. Now, by the gods, I pity his misfortune, and will awake him from his melancholy. Come, gentlemen, we sit too long on trifles, and waste the time, which looks for other rebels. Even in your armour as you are addressed, will very well become a soldier's dance. I will not have excuse for saying this loud music

is too harsh for ladies' heads, since they love men in arms as well as beds. The knight's dance. So this was well asked, was so well performed. Come, sir, here is a lady that wants breathing too, and I have heard, you knights of tyre, are excellent in making ladies' trip, and that their measures are as excellent. In those that practice them they are, my lord.

Oh, that's as much as you would be denied of your fair courtesy. The knights and ladies dance. Unclasp, unclasp! Thanks, gentlemen, to all. All have done well. To Pericles. But you are the best. Pages and lights to conduct these knights

unto their several lodgings. To Pericles. Yours, sir, we have given order to be next our own. I am at your gracious pleasure. Princes, it is too late to talk of love, and that's the mark. i know you level at therefore each one betake him to his rest to-morrow all for speeding do their best xient act two scene four tyre a room in the governor's house enter here have you seen a mighty king his childy wist to incest bring a better prince and benign lord that will prove awful both

in deed and word. Be quiet, then, as men should be, till he hath past necessity. I'll show you those in troubles reign, losing a might, a mountain gain. The good in conversation, to whom I give my benison, is still at Tarsus, where each man thinks all is writ he speak and can. and to remember what he does build his statue to make him glorious but tidings to the contrary are brought your eyes what need speak i dumb show enter at one door pericles talking with cleon all the train with them enter at another door a gentleman with a letter to pericles pericles shows the letter to cleon gives the messenger a reward enites him exit pericles at one door and cleon at another good helicane that stayed at home not to eat honey like a drone from others labours for though he strive to kill unbad keep good alive and to fulfil his prince desire sends word of all that hap's entire

how Thaliard came full bent with sin and had intent to murder him, and that in Tarsus was not best longer for him to make his rest. He, doing so, put forth to seize, where when men bane there's seldom ease, for now the wind begins to blow, thunder above and deeps below make such unquiet that the ship, should house him safe, is wrecked and split. And, hey, good prince, having all lost, by waves from coast to coast is tossed, All perishing of man, of pelf, Nay ach desscap'n but himself, Till fortune, tired with doing bad, Thru him ashore, to give him glad. And here he comes, What shall be next? Pardon, old Gower. This long's the text. Exit. Enter Helicanus and Escanes. No, Escanes. Know this of me. Antiochus from incest lived not free.

For which, the most high gods not minding longer to withhold the vengeance that they had in store, due to this heinous capital offense, even in the height and pride of all his glory, when he was seated in a chariot of inestimable value, and his daughter with him, a fire from heaven came and shriveled up their bodies, even to loathing. For they so stunk that all those eyes adored them ere their fall, scorned now their hands should give them burial. Twas very strange. And yet but justice, for though this king were great,

his greatness was no guard to bar heaven's shaft, but sin had his reward. Tis very true. Enter two or three lords. See, not a man in private conference or counsel has respect with him, but he. It shall no longer grieve without reproof. And curse to be he that will not second it. Follow me then. Lord Helicane, a word.

With me and welcome. Happy day, my lords. Know that our griefs are risen to the top, and now at length they overflow their banks. Your griefs? For what? wrong not your prince you love. Wrong not yourself, then, noble Helicane. But if the prince do live, let us salute him,

or know what grounds 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 leave us to our free election. Whose death indeed's 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 how to rule and how to reign, we thus submit unto our sovereign. Live noble Helicane. For honors cause, forbear your suffrages. If that you love, Prince Pericles, forbear. Take eye your wish. I leap into the seas, where's hourly trouble for a minute's ease.

A twelve-month longer, let me entreat you to forbear the absence of your king. If in which time expired 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. To wisdom he is a fool that will not yield. And since Lord Helicani and joineth us, we with our travels will endeavour us. then you love us we you and we'll clasp hands when peers thus knit a kingdom ever stands exeunt act two scene five pentapolis a room in the palace enter simonetes reading a letter at one door the knights meet him good morrow to the good simonides

knights from my daughter this i'll let you know that for this twelve months shall not undertake a married life her reason to herself is only known which yet from her by no means can i get may we not get access to her my lord faith by no means she has so strictly tied her to her chamber that is impossible one twelve moons more shall wear diana's livery this by the eye of cynthia's hath she vowed, and on her virgin honour, will not break it. Loathe to bid farewell. We take our leaves. Exeunt, knights. So they are well dispatched. Now to my daughter's letter. She tells me here she'd wed the stranger night, 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 not minding whether i dislike or no well i do commend her choice a moon no longer have it be delayed soft here he comes i must assemble it enter pericles all fortune to the good simonides 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 it is your grace's pleasure to commend not my dessert sir you are music master the worst of all her scholars my good lord let me ask you one thing What do you think of my daughter, sir? A most virtuous princess. And she is fair too, is she not? As a fair day in summer, wondrous fair. Sir, my daughter thinks very well of you.

I so well that you must be her master, and she will be your scholar. Therefore, look to it. I am unworthy for her schoolmaster. She thinks not so. Peruse this writing else. else. Aside. What's here? A letter? That she loves the knight of Tyre? Tis the king's subtlety to have my life.

O seek not to entrap me, gracious lord, a stranger and distressed gentleman that never aimed so high to love your daughter and bent all offices to honour her. Thou hast bewitched my daughter, and thou art a villain. 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 traitor the laest traitor i traitor

haven in his throat unless it be the king that calls me traitor i return the lie aside now by the gods i do applaud his courage my actions are as noble as my thoughts that never relished of a baste I came into your court for honor's cause and not to be a rebel to her state, and he that otherwise accounts of me, this sword shall prove he's honor's enemy. No? Here comes my daughter. She can witness it. Enter Thiasa. Then as you are as virtuous as fair, resolve your angry father, if my tongue did

air solicit or my hand subscribe to any syllable that made love to you. Why, sir, say if you had, who takes offense? that that would make me glad. Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory? Aside. I am gladant with all my heart. 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 what 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 either be ruled by me or i will make you man and wife nay come your hands and lips must seal it too and being joined i'll thus your hopes destroy and for a further grief god give you joy what are you both pleased yes if you love me sir even as my life

or blood that fosters it. What, are you both agreed? Yes, if it please your majesty. It pleaseth me so well that I will see you wed, and then with what haste you can get you to bed. Exeunt. End of Act 2. Act 3 of Pericles, Prince of Tyre, by William Shakespeare. This is a Librevox recording.

All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Act 3, Prologue. Enter Gower. Now sleep is slaketh the road. No din but snores the house about, made louder by the oar-fed breast of this most pompous marriage-feast. the cat with e'en of burning coal now crouches for the mouse's hole and cricket sing at the oven's mouth ere the blither for their troth hymen hath brought the bride to bed where by the loss of maidenhead a babe is moulded be a tent and time that is so briefly spent with your fine fancies quaintly aged

What's dumb in show? I'll pain with speech. Dumb show. Enter Pericles and Simonides at one door with attendance. A messenger meets them, kneels, and gives Pericles a letter. Paracles shows it Seminides. The Lord's kneel to him. Then enter Thaisa with child, with Lychlorida a nurse. The king shows her the letter. She rejoices. She rejoices. She is. and Pericles, takes leave of her father, and depart with Lycoraida and their attendants, then Exeunt, Simonides, and the rest.

By many a durn and painful perch of Pericles, the careful search, by the four opposing coins which the world together joins, is made with all due diligence, that horse and sail and high expense can stad the quest. At last from Tyre, fame answering the most strange inquire, To the court of King Simonides Our letters brought, The tenor these, Antiochus and his daughter dead, The men of Tyrus on the head of Heliccanus would set on the crown of Tyre, but he will none. The mutiny he there hastes to oppress, says to him if king pericles come not home in twice six moons he obedient to their domes will take the crown the sum of this brought hither to pentapolis he ravish it the regions round and every one with claps can sound our heir apparent is a king who dreamed who thought of such a thing

brief he must hence depart to tire his queen with child makes her a desire which who shall cross along to go omit we all their dole and woe like corida her nurse she takes and so to see their vessel shakes on neptune's billow half the flood hath their keel cut but fortune's mood varies again the grisly north disgorges such a tempest forth that has a duck for life that dives so up and down the poor ship drives the lady shrieks and well anear does fall in travail with her fear and what ensues in this foul storm shall for itself itself perform I nil relate, Axion 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-tust Pericles appears to speak. Exit. Act 3, Scene 1 On Ship. Enter Pericles on shipboard. thou god of this great vast rebuke these surges which wash both heaven and hell and thou that hast upon the wind's command bind them in brass having called them from the deep

o still thy deafening dreadful thunders gently quench thy nimble sulphurous flashes o how like orida how does my queen thou stormest venomously wilt thou spit all thyself the seaman's whistle is as a whisper in the ears of death unheard lycordia lucina o divinous patroness and midwife gentle to those that cry by night convey thy deity upon our dancing boat make swift the pangs of my queen's travils enter lycorda with an infant now lycordia 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 how ho lycordia 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 it be manly and take take comfort. Oh, you gods! Why do you make us love your goodly gift

and snatch them straight away? We here below recall not what we give, and therein may use honour with you. Patience, good, sir, even for this charge. Now, mild may be thy life, for a more blustrous birth had never, babe. Quiet and gentle thy conditions, for thou art the rudeliest welcome to

this world that ever was prince's child happy what follows thou hast us chiding an activity 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 it enter two sailors what courage sir god save you courage enough i do not fear the flaw it hath done to me the worst yet for the love of this poor infant this fresh new sea-farer i would it would be quiet slack the bollins there thou wilt not wilt thou blowin sprit thyself but sea-room and the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon i cannot 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. That's your superstition. Pardon us, sir, with us at sea it hath been still observed, and we are strong in custom. Therefore briefly yield her, for she must overboard straight.

As you think, meet. Most wretched queen! Here she lies, sir. A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my dear, no light, no fire. The unfriendly elements forgot thee utterly. Nor have I time to give thee hallowed to thy grave, But straight must cast thee scarcely coffined in the ooze, Wherefore a monument upon thy bones, And ere remaining lamps the belching wail and humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,

lying with simple shells. Oh, like corridor. bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper, my casket and my jewels, And bid Nicander bring me the satin coffer, lay the babe upon the pillow. By thee whilst I say a priestly farewell to her, suddenly, woman. Exit, my corridor. Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, cocked and betombed, ready. I thank thee.

Mariner say what coast. is this. We are near Tarsus. Thither, gentle mariner. Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it? By break of day, if the wind cease. Oh, make for Tarsus. There will I visit Cleon, for the babe cannot hold out to Tyrus. There I'll leave it at careful nursing. Go thy ways, good, mariner. I'll bring the body presently. Act 3, Scene 2 Ephesus A room in Saramon's house Enter Saramon with a servant

And some persons who have been shipwrecked Philemon? Who? Enter Philemon Who does my lord call? Get fire and meat for these poor men It has been a turbulent and stormy night I have been in many But such night as this till now

I ne'er endured Your master will be dead ere you return. There's nothing can be minstered to nature that can recover him. To Philemon. Give this to the Pocotheri, and tell me how it works. Exceant all but Saramon. Enter two gentlemen. Good morrow.

Good morrow, your lordship. Gentlemen, what are you stir so early? Sir, our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea, shook as the earth. did quake. The very principles did seem to rend, and all to topple. Pure surprise and fear made me to quit the house. That

is the cause we trouble you so early. Tis not our husbandry. Oh, you say well. But I much marvel at your lordship, having rich tire about you, should at these early hours shake off the golden slumber of repose.

Tis most strange, nature should be so conversant with pain, being thereto not compelled. I hold it ever, virtue and cunning, where endowments greater than nobleness and riches. Careless airs, may the two lighter darken and expend, but immortality attends the former, making a man a god. Tis known I ever have studied physic.

Through which secret arts, by turning o'er authorities, I have, together with my practice, made familiar to me and to my aid, the blessed infusions that dwell in veditives in metals, stones, and I can speak of the disturbances that nature works and of her cures, which doth give me a more content in course of true delight than to be thirsty after tottering honour, or tie my treasure up in silken bags, to please the fool and death. Your honour has through Ephesus poured forth your charity and hundreds called themselves your creatures who by you have been restored and not your knowledge your personal pain but even your purse still open hath built lord caraman such strong renown as time shall ne'er decay

enter two or three servants with a chest so lift there what is that sir even now did the sea toss up upon our shore this chest tis of some wreck set it down let's look upon our shore this chest set it down let's look upon Tis like a coffin, sir. Whate'er it be, tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight. If the sea's stomach be o'er charged with gold, Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us. Tis so, my lord. How close tis corked and bitumed.

Did the sea cast it up? I never saw so huge a below, sir, as tossed it upon shore. Wrench it open, soft. It smells most sweetly in my sea. sweetly in my sense. A delicate odor. As ever hit my nostril, so up with it. Oh, you most potent gods, what's here?

Of course? Most strange. Shrouded in cloth of state, barmed and entresured with full bags of spices. A passport, too. Apollo perfect me in the characters. Reads from a scroll. Here I give to understand,

if here this coffin drive a land, I, King Pericles, have lost this queen. Worth all our mundane cost? Who finds her give her burying? She was the daughter of a king. Besides this treasure for a fee, the gods requite his charity. If thou livest Pericles,

thou hast a heart that even cracks for woe. This chance to-night. Most likely, sir. No, certainly to-night. For look how fresh she looks. they were too rough that threw her in the sea make a fire within fetch hither all my boxes in my closet exit a servant death may usurp on nature many hours and yet the fire of life kindle again the o'erpressed spirits i heard of an egyptian that had nine hours lean dead who was by good appliance recovered re-enter a servant with boxes napkins and fire Was it, was it, the fire and cloths?

The rough and woeful music that we have cause it to sound. Beseech you the viol once more. How thou sturst thou block! The music there! I pray you give her air. Gentlemen, this queen will live. Nature awakes. A warmth breathes out of her.

She hath not been entranced above five hours. See how she gins to blow into life's flower again. The heavens, through you, increase our wonder, and set up your fame forever. She is alive! Behold her eyelids. Cases to those heavenly jewels which Pericles hath lost. Begin to part their fringes of bright gold. The diamonds of the most praised water do appear.

To make the world twice rich, live, and make us weep to hear your fate fair creature. Rare as you seem to be. She moves. Oh, dear Diana. Where am I? Where is my lord? What world is this? Is not this strange?

Most rare. Hush, my gentle neighbours. Lend me your hands to the next chamber bear her. Get linen. Now, this matter must be looked to, for her relapse is mortal. Come, come. And Escapapius, Gides. Exciant.

carrying her away. Act 3, scene 3. Tarsus, a room in Cleon's house. Angiaparicles, Cleon, Dionysa, and Lycora, with Marina in her arms. Most honored, Cleon, I must needs be gone. My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands in a litigious peace. You and your lady take from my heart all thankfulness. The gods make up the rest upon you.

your shafts of fortune though they hurt you mortally yet glance full wonderingly on us o your sweet queen that the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither to have blessed mine eyes with her we cannot but obey the powers above us could i rage and roar as doth the sea she lies in yet the end must be as tis my gentle babe marina whomfore she was born at sea i have named so here i charge your charity withal leaving her the infant of your care beseeching you to give her princely training that she may be mannered as she is born fair not my lord but think your grace that fed my country with your corn for which the people's prayers still fall upon you must in your child be thought on if neglection should therein make me vile the common body by you relieved would force me to my duty but if to that my nature need a spur the gods revenged upon me and mine to the end of generation i believe you your honour and your goodness teach me to it without your vows till she be married madam by bright diana whom we honour all uncissured shall this hair of mine remain though i show ill in it so i take my leave good madam make me blessed in your care in bringing up my child i have one myself who shall not be more dear to my respect than yours my lord madam my thanks and prayers will bring your grace e'en to the edge or the shore then give you up to the masked neptune and the gentlest winds of heaven i will embrace your offer come dearest madam oh no tears like orida no tears look to your little mistress on whose grace you may depend hereafter

Come, my lord. Excient. Act 3, Scene 4. Ephesus, a room in Saramon's house. Enter Saramon and Thaisa. Madam, this letter, and some certain jewels, lay with you in your coffer, which are now at your command. Know you the character?

It is my lords, that I was shipped at sea I well remember, even on my ealing time, but whether they're delivered, by the holy gods, I cannot rightly say. but since king parracles my wedded lord i ne'er shall see again a vest delivery will i take me to and never more have joy madam if this you purpose as ye speak diana's temple is not distant far where you may abide till your date expire moreover if you please a niece of mine shall there attend you my recompense is thanks that's all yet my good will is great though the gift smart Exciant End of Act 3 Act 4 of Pericles Prince of Tyre

by William Shakespeare This is a Librevox recording All Libravox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit Libravox.org

Act 4 Prolog Enter Gower Imagine Pericles a at Tyre, welcomed and settled to his own desire. His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus, unto Diana there of Voterus. Now to Marina bend your mind, whom our fast-growing scene must find at Tarsus, and by Cleon trained in music, letters, who hath gained of education all the grace, which

makes her both the heart and place of general wonder. But alack! That monster envy, after the rack of urnid praise, Marina's life seeks to take off by treason's knife. And in this kind hath our Cleon one daughter, And a wench full grown, even ripe for a marriage-right. this made height philitan and it is said for certain in our story she would ever with marina be be it when she weave at the slided silk with fingers long small white as milk or when she would with sharp needle wound the cambric which she made more sound by hurt in it or went to the lute she sung and made the night

mute that still records with moan or when she would with rich and constant pen veil to her mistress diane still this philoton contends in skill with absolute marina so with the dove of paphos might the crow thy feathers white marina gets all praises which are paid as dead and not as given. This so dark, invaliton all graceful marks that Cleon's wife, with envy rare, a present murderer does prepare for good Marina that her daughter might stand peerless by this slaughter. The sooner her vile thoughts to stead, like Corridor, our nurse is dead, and cursed, Dionyser, at the pregnant instrument of wrath pressed for this blow. The unborn event I do command to your content. Only I carry wingate time post on the lame feet of my rhyme,

which never could I so convey unless your thoughts went on my way. Dionysa does appear, with Leonine, a murder. DERERERERER. EXIT. Act 4. Scene 1. Tarsus. An open place near the seashore.

Enter Dionisa and Leonine. Thy oath remember. Thou hast sworn to do it. Tis but a blow which never shall be known. Thou canst not do a thing in the world so soon to yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience, which is but cold, inflaming love with thy bosom inflame too nicely, Nor let pity, which even women have cast off,

Melt thee, but be a soldier to thy purpose. I will do it, but yet she is a godly creature. The fitter then the gods should have her. Here she comes weeping for her only mistress's death. Thou art resolved? I am resolved. Enter Marina with a basket of fly, No. I will rob Tellis of her weed to strew thy green with flowers. The yellows, blues, the purple violets, and marigold shall as a carpet hang upon thy grave while summer days do last. I'm me, poor maid, born in a tempest when my mother died. This world to me is like a lasting storm whirring me from my friends.

How now, Marina. Why do you keep alone? How to you? chance my daughter is not with you. Do not consume your blood with sorrowing. You have a nurse of me. Lord, how your favours changed with this unprofitable woe! Come, give me your flowers, ere the sea, Marit. Walk with Leonine. The air is quick there, and it pierces and sharpens the stomach. Come, Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her. No, I pray you. I will. I will. I am. I will. not bereave you of your servant. Come, come. I love the King your father and yourself with more than foreign heart.

We every day expect him here. When he shall come and find our paragon to all reports thus blasted, he will repent the breadth of his great voyage. Blame both my Lord and me that we have taken no care to your best courses. Go, I pray you, walk, and be cheerful once again. once again. Reserve that excellent complexion, which did steal the eyes of young and old. Care not for me. I can go home alone. Well, I will go, but yet I have no desire to it.

Come, come, I know tis good for you. Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least. Remember what I have said? I warrant you, madam. I'll leave you, my sweet lady for a while. Pray, It walks softly. Do not heat your blood. What? I must have a care of you. My thanks, sweet madam. Exit Dionysa.

Is this wind westerly that blows? Southwest. When I was born, the wind was north. What's so? My father, as nurse said, did never fear, but cried good semen to the sailors, galling his kingly hands, hailing ropes, and clasping to the mast, endured a sea that almost, burst the deck. When was this? When I was born. 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 bows and whistles and the master calls and trebles their confusion. Come, say your prayers. What mean you? If you require a little space for prayer, I granted, pray, But be no tedious, for the gods are quick of air, and I am sworn to do my work with haste. Why will you kill me? To satisfy my lady. Why would she have me killed?

Now, as I can remember, by my troth, I never did her hurt in all my life. I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn to any living creature. Believe me, La, I never killed a mouse nor her to fly. I 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? My commission is not to reason of the deed, but do it. You will not do it for all the world, I hope. You are well-favored, and your looks for show you have a gentle heart.

I saw you lately, when you caught hurt in parting two that fought. Good sooth it showed well in you. Do so now. Your lady seeks my life. Come you between and save poor me the weaker. I am sworn and will dispatch. He seizes her. Enter pirates.

Hoard villain. Leonine runs away. A prize, a prize. Half part, mates, half part. Come, let's have her aboard suddenly. Exeunt pirates with Marina. Reenter Leonine. His roguing thieves serve the great pirate Valdas.

and they have ceased Marina. Let her go. There's no hope she will return. I'll swear she's dead, and thrown into the sea. But I'll see further. Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her, not carry her aboard.

If she remain, whom they have ravished, must by me be slain. Exit. Act four, Scene 2. Maiteline. A room in a brothel.

Enter Pandar, Baud, and Bolt. Bult? Sir? Thurts the market narrowly. Middalen is full of gallants. We lost too much money this mart by being too wenchless. We were never so much out of creatures.

We have but poor three, and they can do no more than they can do. And they, with continual action, are even as good as rotten. Therefore, let's have fresh ones. What ere we pay for them, if there be not a conscience to be used in every trade, We shall never prosper. Thou sayest true. Tis not our bringing up of poor bastards. As I think I have brought up some eleven.

Aye, to eleven, and brought them down again. But shall I search the market? What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong wind will blow it to pieces. They are so pitifully sodden. Thou sayest true, they're too unwholesome a conscience. The poor Transylvanian is dead that lay with the little baggage. Aye, she quickly pooped him.

She made him roast meat for worms. But I'll go search the market. Exit. Three or four thousand sequins were as pretty proportioned to live quietly, and so give over. Why to give over, I pray you. Is it a shame to get when we are old? Oh, our credit comes. comes not in like the commodity, nor the commodity wages not with the danger.

Therefore, if in our youth we could pick up some pretty estate, twere not amiss to keep our door hatched. Besides, the thought turns we stand upon with the gods will be strong with us for giving over. Come, other sorts offend as well as we? As well as we. Aye, and better too. We offend worse. Neither is our profession any trade. It's no calling. But here comes boat.

Reinter Bolt with the pirates and Marina. To Marina. Come your ways. My masters, you say, she's a virgin. Oh, sir, we doubt it not. Master, I have gone through for this piece, you see. If you like her, so, if not, I, I have lost my earnest. Bould, are she any qualities? She has a good face, speaks well,

and has excellent good clothes. There is no further necessity of qualities can make her be refused. What's their price, Bolt? I cannot be baited one doyte of a thousand pieces. Well, follow me, my masters. You shall have your money,

presently. Wife, take her in, instruct her what she has to do, that she may not be raw in her entertainment. Eccient, pandar, and pirates. Bolt, take you the marks of her, the colour of her air, complexion, height, age, with warrant of her virginity, and cry, E that'll give most chalab her first. Such a maidenhead were no cheap thing, if men were as they have been. get this done as I command you. Performance shall follow.

Exit. Alack that Leonin was so slack, so slow. He should have struck, not spoke, or that these pirates, not enough barbarous, had not overboard thrown me for to seek my mother. I lament you, pretty one. That I am pretty. Come, the gods have done their part in you.

I accuse them not. You are light into my hands where you are like to live? The more my fault to escape his hands where I was like to die. Aye, and you shall live in pleasure? No. Yes, indeed, shall you? Enticed gentlemen of all fashions. You shall fare well, you shall have the difference of all complexions.

What, do you stop your ears? Are you a woman? What would you have me be? and I be not a woman. An honest woman or not a woman. Mary, whip thee, Gosling. I think I shall have something to do with you. Come, you're a young foolish sapling and must be bowed as I would have you.

The gods defend me. If it please the God to defend you by men, then men must comfort you, men must feed you, men must stir you up. Boats returned. returned. Reenter both. Now, sir, as thou cried her through the market. I have cried her almost to the number of her hairs. I have drawn her picture with my voice. And, Oprithee tell me, how dost thou find the incarnation of the people, especially of the

younger sort? Faith, they listened to me, as they would have hearkened to their father's testament. There was a Spaniard's mouth so watered that he went to bed, to her very description. We shall have him here to-morrow with his best ruff-on. To-night, to-night. But, mistress, do you know the French knight that cower's, the hams? O, Monsieur Baroles? Aye, he. He offered to cut a caper at the proclamation, but he made a to groan at it and swore he would see her tomorrow. Well, well, as for him, he brought his disease hither.

Ere does but repair it. I know he will come in our shadow to scatter his crowns in the sun. Well, if we had, of every nation, a traveller, we should lodge them, with this sign. To Marina. Pray you come hither a while. You have fortunes coming upon you. Mark me! You must seem to do that fearfully which you commit willingly.

Despise profit, were you of 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. I understand you not. Oh, take her home, mistress, take her home. These blushes of hers must be quenched With some present practice Thou sayest true

A faith they must For your bride goes to that with shame Which is her way to go with warrant Faith, some do And some do not But, mistress If I have bargained for the joint Thou mayest cut a morsel off the spit

I may so. Ousha deny it. Come, young one, I like the manner of your garments well. Aye, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet. Bold, spend thou that in the town. Report what a sojourner we have. You'll lose nothing by custom. When nature flamed this piece, she meant thee a good turn.

Therefore, say what a paragon she is, and thou hast the harvest at thine own report. I warrant you, mistress, Thunder shall not so awake the beds of eels as my giving out her beauty stir up the ludely inclined. I'll bring home some tonight. Come your ways, follow me.

If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep, Untied, I still my virgin not will keep. Diana aid my purpose. What have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with us? Xion. Act four, scene three. Tarsus, a room in Cleon's house.

Enter Cleon and Dionysa. Why are you foolish? Can it be undone? Oh, Dionys are such a piece of slaughter the sun and moon ne'er look I think you'll turn a child again. Were I, Chief Lord, of all this spacious world, I'll give it to undo the deed. O lady much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess to equal any single crown or the earth, and the justice of compare.

O villainly a-nine, whom thou hast poisoned too. If thou hadst drunk to him, t had been a kindness, becoming well thy fact, what canst thou say when noble Pericles shall demand his child. 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. Oh, go too. Well, of all the faults beneath the heavens, The gods do like this worst. Be one of those. those that think 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.

To such proceeding, whoever but his abrobation added, though not his prime consent, he did not flow from honourable sources. 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 malcon not worth the time of day It pierced me through And though you call my course unnatural You not your child well-loving Yet I find it greets me as an enterprise of kindness Performed to your sole daughter Heavens forgive it And as for parents

What should he say? We wept after her hearse, and yet we mourn. Her monument is almost finished, And her epitaphs and glittering golden characters Express a general praise to her, And care in us, at whose expense tis done. Thou art like the harpy, Which to betray dost with thine angel's face,

Seas with thine eagle's talons. 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. Xient Act 4, Scene 4, Chorus, Enter Gower, before the monument of Marina at Tarsus. Thus time we waste, and longest leagues make short.

Sail seas in cockles, have an wish but for it, making to take your imagination from born to born, region to region. By you being pardoned, 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 in the gaps to teach you the stages of our story. Pericles is now again sworn. in the wayward seas, attended on by many a lord and night, to see his daughter all his life's delight. Old Escanes, whom Heliccanus late advanced in time to great and high estate,

is left to govern. Bear you it in mind, old Heliccanus goes along behind. Well, sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought this king to Tarsus. Think his pilot thought. So with hysteria shall your thoughts grow on, to fetch his daughter home, who first is gone. Like moats and shadows, see them move a while. Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile. Dumb show. Interparacles at one door with all his train cleon and dioniza at another cleon shows pericles the tomb whereat pericles makes lamentation puts on sackcloth and in a mighty passion departs then exeunt cleon and dionysa see how belief may suffer by foul show this borrowed passion stands for true old woe and And Pericles, in sorrow all devoured, With sighs shot through, And biggest tears o'er showered, 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, the epitaph is for Marina writ by wicked Dionysa. Reads the inscription on Marina's monument. The fairest sweet and best lies here, who withered in her spring of year. She was of Tyrus, the king's daughter, on whom foul death hath made his slaughter. her. Marina was she called, and at her birth, Thetus, being proud, swallowed some part of the earth. Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erfloed, hath Thetis birth-child on the heavens bestowed.

Wherefore she does, and swear she'll never stint, make raging battery upon shores of flint. No Vizor does become black villainy, so well a 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 mighty lane exit act four scene five myteline a street before the brothel enter from the brothel did you ever hear the like no nor never shall do in such a place as this she being once gone but to have divinity preach there did you ever dream of such a thing no no come i am for no more browdy-houses shales go here the vestals sing i'll do anything now that is virtuous but i'm out of the road of rutting for ever exeunt act four scene six the same a room in the brothel enter pandar bod and bolt well i had rather than twice the worst of her she had ne'er come here

Fie! Fie upon her! She's able to freeze the God-Pri Apis and undo a whole generation. We must either get a 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. Faith, I must ravish her. Or she'll disfurnish us of all our cavaliers and make our swearers priests. Now the pox upon her great sickness for me.

Faith, there's no way to be rid on it, but by the way to the pox. Here comes the Lord Lysimachus disguised. We should have, both Lord and Lown, if the peevish baggage would but give way to customers. Enter Lysimachus. How now? How a dozen of virginities! Now the gods to bless your honour! I am glad to see your honour in good health. You may, soul, tis the better for you that your resorters stand upon sound legs.

How now? Wholesome iniquity have you that a man may deal with all, and defy the surgeon? We have one ear, sir, if she would, but there's no. Never came her like in Mitolini. If she do the deed of darkness thou wouldst say. Your honour knows what is to say well enough. Well, call forth, call forth. For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you shall see a rose. And she were a rose indeed, if she had but...

What, crithee? Oh, sir, I can be modest. that dignifies the renown of a board no less than it gives a good report to a number to be chased exit here comes that which grows to the stalk never plucked yet i can assure you reinter bolt with marina is she not a fair creature faith she would serve after a long voyage at sea well there's for you leave us i beseech your honour give me leave a word in all I have done presently. I besit you do. To Marina. First, I would have you note

This is an honourable man. I desire to find him so That I may worthily note him. Next, ease the governor of this country And a man whom I am bound to. If he govern the country, you are bound to him indeed. But how honourable he is in that I know not. Pray you,

without any more virginal fencing. Will you use him kindly? He will line your apron with gold. What he will do graciously, I will thankfully receive. How you done? My lord, she's not paste yet. You must take some pains to worker to your manage.

Come, we will leave his honour and her together. Go thy ways. Exci and Bod, Pandar, and Bolt. Now, pretty one, how long have you been at this trade? What trade, sir? Why, I cannot name it, but I shall offend. I cannot be offended with my trade. Please you to name it. How long have you been of this profession?

Ere since I can remember. Did you go to it so young? Were you a gamester at five or at seven? Earlier too, sir, if now I be one. Why, the house you dwell in proclaims you to be a creature of sale. Do you know this house to be a place of such resort and will come into it? I here say you are of honourable parts and are the governor of this place. Why, hath your principal made known unto you who I am? Who is my principal?

Why, you are herb-woman, she that sets seeds and roots of shame and iniquity. Oh, you have heard something of my power, and so stand aloof for more serious wooing. But I protest to thee, pretty one, my authority shall not see thee, or else look friendly upon thee. Come, bring me to some private place. Come, come, come. If you were born to honour, show it now. If put upon you make the judgment good that thought you worthy of it. How's this? How's this? Some more. Be sage. For me, that am a maid, though most ungentle fortune have placed me in this sty, where, since I came, diseases have been sold dearer than physic.

Oh, that the gods would set me free from this unhallowed place, though they did change me to the meanest bird that flies of the purer air. I did not think thou couldst have spoke so well, near dreamed thou couldst. Had I brought hither a corrupt, mind thy speech had altered it hold here's gold for thee persever in that clear way thou goest and the gods strengthen thee the good gods preserve you for me be you thought and that i came with no ill intent for to me the very doors and windows savour vilely fare thee well thou art a peace of virtue and i doubt not but thy reigning hath been noble. Hold, here's more gold for thee. A curse upon him, die he like a thief that robs thee of thy goodness. If thou dost hear from me, it shall be for thy good. Reenter bolt. I beseech, your honor. One piece for me. A vaunt thou damned, doorkeeper. Your house but for this virgin that doth prop it would sink and

overwhelm you. Away. Exit. How's this? We must take another course with you. If your peevish chastity, which is not worth a breakfast in the cheapest country under the cope, shall undo a whole household. Let me be gelded like a spaniel. Come your ways. Whither would you have me? I must have your maidenhead taken off.

or the common hangman shall execute it. Come your ways. We'll have no more gentlemen driven away. Come your ways, I say. Reenter Bond. Oh now, what's the matter? Worse, and worse, mistress, she has here spoken holy words to the Lord Lysimachus.

Oh, abominable. She makes our profession as it were to stink before the face of the gods. Mary, hang her up forever. The nobleman would have dealt with her like a nobleman, and she sent him away as cold as a snowball, saying his prayers, too. Bolt, take her away, use her at thy pleasure,

crack the glass of her virginity and make the rest malleable. And if she were a thornier piece of her, ground than she is, she shall be plowed. Hark, hark you gods! She conjures, away with her! Would she had never come within my doors? Mary, ang you, she's born to undo us all. Will you not go the way of womankind?

Mary, come up my dish of chastity with rosemary and bays. Exit. Come, mistress, come your ways, with me. Whither wilt thou have me? To take from you the jewel you hold so dear. Pry thee tell me one thing first. Come now, your one thing. What canst thou wish thine enemy to be?

Why, I could wish him to be my master, or rather my mistress. Neither of these are so bad as thou art, since they do better thee in their command. thou holts a place for which the painedest fiend of hell would not in reputation change. Thou art the damned doorkeeper to every coestrel that comes inquiring for his tib. To the choleric fisting of every rogue thy ear is liable. Thy food is such as hath been belched on by infected lungs. 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. Do anything but this thou doest. Empty old receptacles or common shores 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 thee, proclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance with other virtues which I'll keep from boast, and I will undertake all these to teach. I doubt not but this populous city will yield many scholars. But can you teach all this you speak of? Prove that I cannot. Take me home again and prostitute me to the basest groom that doth frequent your house. Well, I will see what I can do for thee. If I can place thee, I will. But amongst honest women. Faith, my acquaintance, lies little amongst them.

But since my master and mistress have bought you, there is no going but by their consent. Therefore I will make them acquainted with your purpose. And I doubt not, but I shall find them, tractable enough. Come, I'll do for thee what I can. come your ways Excient End of Act 4

Act 5 of Pericles Prince of Tyre by William Shakespeare This is a Librevox recording All Librevox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit Librevox.org Act 5

Prolog Enter Gower Marina thus the brothal escapes, and chances into an honest house, our story says. She sings like one immortal, and she dances as goddess-like to her admired lace. Deep clerks she dumbs, and with her needle, composes nature's own shape of bird, branch, or berry, that even her art sisters the natural roses her inkled silk twain with the ruby a cherry that pupils lack she none of noble race who pour their bounty on her and her gain she gives the cursed bod. Here we her place, and to her father turn our thoughts again, where we left him on the sea. We dare him lost. Whence driven before the winds, he has arrived here, where his daughter dwells, and on this coast

suppose him now at anchor. The city strived God Neptune's annual feast to keep. From whence Lysimachus our Tyrian ship espies, his banner's sable, trimmed with rich expense, and to him in his barge with fervor highs. In your supposing, once more put your sight of heavy Pericles, think this his bark, where what is done in Axion more, if might, shall be discovered. Please you sit and hark. Exit. Act 5. Scene 1. On board Paracles ship, off Metoline. a closed pavilion on deck with a curtain before it pericles within it reclined on a couch a barge lying beside the tyrian vessel enter two sailors one belonging to the tyrian vessel the other to the barge to them halakhanus to the sailor of mitoline where is lord helicanus he can resolve you who here he is sir there's a barge put off from mitiline and in it is lazy Marcus the governor who craves to come aboard.

What is your will? That he have his. Call up some gentlemen. O old gentlemen, my lord calls. Enter two or three gentlemen. Doth your lordship call? Gentlemen, there some of worth would come aboard. I pray ye, greet them fairly.

The gentleman and the two sailors descend and go on board the barge. Enter from thence, Lysimachus, and Lords, with the gentlemen and the two sailors. Sir, this is the man that can, in aught you would, resolve you. Hail, reverence, sir, the gods preserve you. And you, sir, to outlive the age I am, and die as I would do. You wish me well. Being on shore, honouring of Neptune's triumphs, seeing this goodly vessel ride before us, I made to it. to know of whence you are first what is your place i am the governor of this place you lie before sir our vessel is of tyre in it the king

a man who for this three months hath not spoken to any one nor taken sustenance but to prorogue his grief upon what ground is his distemperature twould be too tedious to repeat but the main grief springs from the loss of a beloved daughter and a wife may we not see him you may but bootless is your sight he will not speak to any yet let me obtain my wish behold him pericles discovered this was a goodly person till the disaster that one mortal knight drove him to this sir king all hail the gods preserve you hail royal sir it is in vain he will not speak to you sir sir sir we have a maid in name he will not speak to you sir sir we have a maid in mity. I durst wager could win some words of him. Tis well be thought. She questionless, with her sweet harmony and other chosen attractions, would allure and make a battery through his deafened parts, which now are midway stopped. She is all happy as the fairest of all, and with her fellow-maids is now upon the leafy shelter that abuts against the island's side.

whispers the Lord, who goes off in the barge of Lycemicus. Sure, all's effectless, yet nothing we'll admit that bears recovery's name. But, since your kindness we have stretched thus far, let us beseech you that for our gold we may provision have, wherein we are not destitute for want, but weary for the staleness. Oh, sir, courtesy which if we should deny, the most just gods for every graph would send a caterpillar, and so afflict our province.

Yet, once more, let me entreat to know at large the cause of your king's sorrow. Sit, sir, I will recount it to you. But, see, I am prevented. Re-enter from the barge, Lord, with Marina, and a young lady. Oh, here is the lady that I sent for.

Welcome, fair one. Is it not a goodly presence? She's a gallant lady. she's such a one that were i well assured came of a gentle kind and noble stock i'd wish no better choice and think me rarely wed fair one all goodness that consists in bounty expect even here where is a kingly patient if that thy prosperous and artificial feat can draw him but to answer thee in aught thy sacred physic shall receive such pay as thy desires can wish. Sir, I will use my utmost skill in his recovery, provided that none but I and my companion maid be suffered to come near him.

Come, let us leave her, and the gods make her prosperous. Marina sings. Marked he your music? No, nor looked on us. See, she will speak to him. Hail, sir, my lord, lend ear. I am a maid, my lord, that name. There before invited eyes but have been gazed on like a comet.

She speaks, my lord, that may be, hath endured a grief might equal yours if both were justly weighed. Though wayward fortune did malign my state, my derivation was from ancestors who stood equivalent with mighty kings. But time hath rooted out my parentage, and to the world and awkward casualties bound me in servitude. Aside. I will desist. But there is something glows upon my cheek and whispers in mine ear. Go not till he speak. My fortunes, a parentage, good parentage, to equal my,

was it not thus, what say you? I said, my lord, if you did know my parentage, you would not do me violence. I do think so. Pray you, turn your eyes upon me. You are like something that, uh, what country woman? Hear of these shores? No, nor of any shores. Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am no other than I appear.

I am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping. My dearest wife was like this maid, and such a one my daughter might have been. My queen's square brows, her stature to an inch, as wand-like, straight, as silver-voiced, her eyes as jewel-like, and cased as richly, In pace another Juno, who starves the ears she feeds and makes them hungry, the more she gives them speech. Where do you live?

Where I am but a stranger? From the deck you may discern the place. Where were you bred? And how achieved you these endowments which you make more rich to owe? If I should tell my history, it would seem like lies disdained in the reporting. pray thee speak falseness cannot come from thee for thou look'st modest as justice and thou seem'st a palace for the crowned truth to dwell in i will believe thee and make my senses credit thy relation to points that seem impossible for thou look'st like one i loved indeed what were thy friends didst thou not say when i did push thee back which was when i perceived thee that thou camest from good descending? So indeed I did. Report thy parentage. I think thou said thou hadst been tossed from wrong to injury,

and that thou thought thy griefs might equal mine if both were opened. Some such thing I said, and said no more but what my thoughts did warrant me was likely. Tell thy story. If thine considered proved the thousandth part of my endurance, thou art a man, and I have suffered like a girl. yet thou dost look like patience gazing on king's graves and smiling extremity out of act what were thy friends how lost thou them thy name my most kind virgin recount i do beseech thee come sit by me my name is marina oh i am mocked and thou by some insensitive god said hither to make the world to laugh at me patience Good sir, or here I'll cease.

Nay, I'll be patient. Thou little know'st how thou dost startle me to call thyself Marina. The name was given me by one that had some power, my father, and a king. A king's daughter? And called Marina? You said you would believe me. But not to be a troubler of your peace, I will end here. But are you flesh and blood?

Have you a working pulse and are no fairy? Motion! Well, speak on. Where were you born, and wherefore called Marina? Called Marina, for I was born at sea. At sea? What mother? My mother was the daughter of a king, who died the minute I was born,

as my good nurse Lycorida hath oft delivered weeping. Oh, stop there a little. This is the rarest dream That erred all sleeped In mock sad fools with all This cannot be My daughter's buried Well

Where were you bred? I'll hear you more To the bottom of your story And never interrupt you You scorn Believe me to our best I did give ore I will believe you By the syllable of what you shall deliver

Yet give me leave How came you in these parts Where were you bred? The king my father did Intarsus leave me, till cruel Cleon with his wicked wife did seek to murder me, and having wooed a villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do it, a crew of pirates came and rescued me,

brought me to Mytilene. But good sir, whither will you have me? Why do you weep? It may be you think me an imposter. No, good faith. I am the daughter to King Pericles, if good King Pericles be. Ho! Helicanus!

Calls, my lord? Thou art a grave and noble counsellor, most wise in general, tell me, if thou canst. What this maid is, or what is like to be, that thus hath made me weep. I know not, but here is the regent, sir, of Mytilini, speaks nobly of her. She would never tell her parentage. being demanded that she would sit still and weep oh helicanus strike me on it sir give me a gash put me to present pain lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me or bear the shores of my mortality and drown me with their sweetness O come hither, thou that begets him that did thee beget, thou that was born at sea, buried at Tarsus, and found at sea again, O Helicanus down on my knees, thank the holy gods as loud as thunder threatens us. This is Marina. What was thy mother's name? Tell me about that, for truth can never be confirmed enough, though doubts did ever sleep.

First, sir, I pray, what is your title? I am Pericles of Tyre. But tell me now, my drowned queen's name, as in the rest you said, Thou hast been godlike perfect, the heir of kingdoms and another like to Pericles thy father. Is it no more to be your daughter than to say my mother's name was Taisa? Taisa was my mother, who did end the minute I began. Now, blessing on thee. rise thou art my child give me fresh garments mine own helicanus she is not dead at tarsus as she should have been by savage cleon she shall tell thee all when thou shalt kneel and justify in knowledge she is thy very princess who is this sir tis the governor of mitilini who hearing of your melancholy state did come to see you i embrace you give me

robes. I am wild in my beholding. Oh, heaven, bless my girl, but hark what music. Tell Helicanus, my marina, tell him more, point by point, for yet she seems to doubt, how sure you are my daughter. But what music? My lord, I hear none. None? The music of the spheres. List my marina. It is not good to cross him. Give him way. Rarest sounds, do you not hear? My lord, I hear. Music. Most heavenly music, it nips me unto listening, and thick slumber hangs upon mine eyes.

Let me rest. Sleeps. A pillow for his head. So leave him all. Well, my companion friends, if this but answer to my just belief, I'll well remember you. Exeunt all but Pericles. Deanna appears to Pericles as in a vision. My temple stands in Ephesus,

High thee hither, And do upon mine altar sacrifice. There, where my maiden priests are met together, Before the people all, Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife, To mourn thy crosses with thy daughters call, And give them repetition to the life, Or, perform my bidding,

or thou livest in woe. Do it and happy by my silver bow. Awake and tell thy dream. Disappears. Celestial Dion, goddess Argentine, I will obey thee. Helicanus! Reenter Helicanus, Lysimachus, and Marina.

Sir? My purpose was for Tarsus, there to strike the inhospitable Clayon, but I am for further service first. Toward Ephesus, turn our blown sails. Eftsoons I'll tell thee why. To Isimachus. Shall we refish us, sir, upon your shore,

and give you gold for such provision as our intents will need? Sir, with all my heart, and when you come ashore, I have another suit. You shall prevail. Were it to woo my daughter, for it seems you have been no toward her. Sir, lend me your arm. Come, my marina.

Excient. Act four, scene two. Chorus. Enter Gower before the temple of Deanna at Ephesus. Now our sands are almost run, more little and than dumb. This my last bone give me,

for such kindness must relieve me, that you aptly will suppose what pageantry what feats what shows what minstrelsy and pretty din the regent made in mighty lynne to greet the king so he thrived that he has promised to be wives to fair marina but in no wise till he had done his sacrifice as dian bade were so being bound the interim prays all confound. In feathered briefness, sails are filled, and wishes fall out as their willed. At Ephesus the temple see, our king and all his company, that he can hither come so soon, is by your fancy's thankful tomb. Exit. Act 5, Scene 3. The Temple of Deanna at Ephesus. is standing near the altar, as high priestess, a number of virgins on each side,

Seremon, and other inhabitants of Ephesus attending. Enter Pericles with his train, Lysimachus, Helicanus, Marina, and a lady. Hail, Dian! To perform thy just command I here confess myself the king of Tyre, who frighted from my country did wed at Pentapolis the fair Thesa. At sea and childbed died, she, but brought forth a maid-child called Marina, who, oh, goddess, wears yet by silver livery. She, at Tarsus, was nursed with Cleon, who at fourteen years he sought to murder.

But her better stars brought her to Mytilene, against whose shore riding her fortunes brought the maid aboard us, whereby her own most clear remembrance she made known herself, my daughter. voice and favor. You are, you are, oh, royal Pericles. Faints. What means the nun? She dies. Help, gentlemen! Noble sir, if you have told Diana's altar true, this is your wife. Reverend De Pereur, no, I threw her overboard with these very arms. Upon this coast, I warrant you.

It is most certain. Look to the lady. Oh, she's but oh, joyed. Early in blustering morn, this lady was thrown upon this shore. I opened the coffin, found their rich jewels, recovered her, and placed her here in Diana's temple. May we see them? Great, sir, they shall be brought you to my house, whither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is recovered.

Oh, let me look. If he be none of mine, my sanctity will to my sense bend no licentious ear, but curb it spite of seeing. Oh, my lord, are you not Paracles? Like him you spake. Like him you are. Did you not name a tempest? A birth and death?

The voice of dead Thesa. That Taisa am I, supposed dead and drowned. Immortal Dian. Now I know you better. When we with tears parted Pontapalus, The king my father gave you such a ring. shows a ring. This, this no more, you gods.

Your present kindness makes my past misery sports. You shall do well that on the touching of her lips I may melt and no more be seen. Oh, come, be buried a second time within these arms. My heart leaps to be gone into my mother's bosom. Neals to Theisa. Look who kneels here. Flesh of thy flesh, Thess, Tha. Tha, thy burden at the sea and called Marina, for she was yielded there.

Blessed, and mine own. Hail, madam, and my queen! I know you not. You have heard me say, when I did fly from Tyre, I left behind an ancient substitute. Can you remember what I called the man? I have named him oft. T'was Helicanus, then? Still confirmation. Embrace him, dear Thesa, this is he.

now do i long to hear how you were found how possibly preserved and who to thank beside the gods for this great miracle lord sarahman my lord this man through whom the gods have shown their power that can from first to last resolve you reverence sir the gods can have no mortal officer more like a god than you will you deliver how this dead queen relives i will my lord beseech you first go with me to my house where shall be shown you all was found with her how she came placed here in the temple no needful thing omitted pure dion bless thee for thy vision i will offer knight oblations to thee thesa this prince the fair betrothed of your daughter shall marry her at pentypilus and now this ornament makes me look dismal clip to form, and what this fourteen years no razor touch to grace thy marriage day, I'll beautify. Lord Saraman hath letters of good credit, sir. My father's dead. Heavens make a star of him. Yet here, my queen, we'll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves will in that kingdom spend our following days. Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign. Lord Saramon,

on we do our longing stay, to hear the rest untold. Sir, leads the way. Excient Enter Gower In Antiochus and his daughter, you have heard of monstrous lust, the due and just reward. In Pericles, his queen and daughter, seen, although assailed with fortune fierce and keen, Virtue preserve it from foul destruction's blast, led on by heaven and crowned with joy at last. In Helicanus may you well descry a figure of truth, of faith of loyalty. In reverent Ceremon, there well appears the worth that learned charity eye wears.

For wicked Cleon and his wife, when he was a woman, fame had spread their cursed deed, and honoured name of Pericles, to rage the city turn, that him and his they in his palace burn. The gods for murder seem it so content to punish them, although not done but meant. So on your patience ever more attending, new job. wait on you here our play has ending exit end of act five end of pericles prince of tyre by william shakespeare