By the four oppofing coignes,
Which the world together joins,
Is made, with all due diligence,

That horse, and fail, and high expence,
Can ftead the quest. At laft from Tyre
(Fame answering the moft ftrong inquire,)
To the court of king Simonides

Are letters brought; the tenour these :
Antiochus and his daughter's dead;
The men of Tyrus, on the head
Of Helicanus would fet on

The crown of Tyre, but he will none:
The mutiny there he haftes t'appease ;
Says to them, if king Pericles

Come not, in twice fix moons, home,
He, obedient to their doom,

Will take the crown. The fum of this,
Brought hither to Pentapolis,

Y-ravished the regions round,

And every one with claps 'gan sound,
Our heir apparent is a king :

Who dream'd, who thought of fuch a thing?
Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre:
His queen with child, makes her defire
(Which who fhall cross?) along to go;
(Omit we all their dole and woe :)
Lychorida, her nurse, she takes,
And fo to fea. Their veffel shakes
On Neptune's billow; half the flood

Hath their keel cut; but fortune's mood

Varies again the grizzled north

:

Difgorges fuch a tempeft forth,
That, as a duck for life that dives,
So up and down the poor fhip drives.

The

The lady fhrieks, and, well-a-near!

Doth fall in travail with her fear
And what enfues in this fell ftorm,
Shall, for itself, itself perform.
I nill relate; action may

Conveniently the rest convey:

Which might not what by me is told.
In your imagination hold

This ftage, the fhip, upon whose deck
The fea-toft prince appears to speak.

[Exit.

SCENE I.

Enter PERICLES, on a ship at fea.

Per. Thou God of this great vaft, rebuke these surges, Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that hast Upon the winds command, bind them in brass,

Having call'd them from the deep! O ftill thy deaf'ning,
Thy dreadful thunders; gently quench thy nimble,
Thy fulphurous flafhes!-O how, Lychorida,
How does my queen?-Thou ftorm, thou! venomously
Wilt thou split all thyfelf?-The feaman's whiftle
Is as a whifper in the ears of death,
Unheard.-Lychorida!-Lucina, O

Divineft patronefs, and midwife, gentle
To thofe that cry by night, convey thy deity
Aboard our dancing boat; make swift the pangs
Of my queen's travails!-Now, Lychorida-

Enter LYCHORIDA, with an infant.

Lyc, Here is a thing

D 4

Too

Too young for fuch 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.
Per. How! how, Lychorida!

Lyc. Patience, good fir; do not affift the storm.
Here's all that is left living of your queen,-

A little daughter: for the fake of it,

Be manly, and take comfort.

Per.

Q you gods!

Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,

And fnatch them straight away? We, here below,
Recall not what we give, and therein may

Vie honour with yourselves.

Lye.

Even for this charge.

Per.

Patience, good fir,

Now, mild may be thy life!

For a more bluft'rous birth had never babe :

Quiet and gentle thy conditions!

For thou'rt the rudelieft welcom'd to this world,

That e'er was prince's child. Happy what follows!
Thou haft as chiding a nativity,

As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make,
To herald thee from the womb: even at the first,
Thy lofs is more than can thy portage quit,
With all thou can't find here.-Now the good gods
Throw their best eyes upon it!

Enter two Sailors.

Sail. What courage, fir? God fave you.
Per. Courage enough: I do not fear the flaw;
It hath done to me the worlt, Yet, for the love
Of this poor infant, this freth-new fea-farer,
I would, it would be quiet.

1 Sail,

1 Sail. Slack the bolins there; thou wilt not, wilt thou?

Blow and split thyself.

2 Sail. But fea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kifs the moon, I care not.

1 Sail. Sir, your queen muft overboard; the fea works high, the wind is loud, and will not lie till the hip be clear'd of the dead.

Per. That's your fuperftition.

1 Sail. Pardon us, fir; with us at sea it still hath been observed; and we are strong in earnest. Therefore briefly yield her; for the muft over-board straight.

Per. Be it as you think meet.—Most wretched queen! Lyc. Here the lies fir.

Per. A terrible child-bed haft thou had, my dear; No light, no fire: the unfriendly elements

Forgot thee utterly; nor have I time

To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight
Muft caft thee, fcarcely coffin'd, in the ooze;
Where, for a monument upon thy bones,
And aye-remaining lamps, the belching whale,
And humming water muft o'erwhelm thy corpfe,
Lying with fimple fhells. Lychurida,

Bid Neftor bring me spices, ink and paper,
My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander
Bring me the fattin coffer: lay the babe
Upon the pillow; hie thee, whiles I fay

A prieftly farewell to her: fuddenly, woman.

[Exit LYCHORIDA. 2 Sail. Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulk'à

and bitumed ready.

Per. I thank thee. Mariner, fay what coast is this?

2 Sail. We are near Tharfus.

Per. Thither, gentle mariner,

Alter thy course for Tyre.

When can't thou reach it?

2 Sail,

2 Sail. By break of day, if the wind cease. Per. O make for Tharfus.

There will I vifit Cleon, for the babe

Cannot hold out to Tyrus: there I'll leave it

At careful nurfing. Go thy ways, good mariner;
I'll bring the body presently.

[Exeunt,

SCENE II.

Ephefus. A Room in Cerimon's House.

Enter CERIMON, a Servant, and some persons who have been

Cer. Philemon, ho!

Shipwrecked.

Enter PHILEMON.

Phil. Doth my lord call?

Cer. Get fire and meat for thefe poor men; It has been a turbulent and ftormy night.

Serv. I have been in many; but fuch a night as this, Till now, I ne'er endur'd.

Cer. Your mafter will be dead ere you return;

There's nothing can be minifter'd to nature,

That can recover him. Give this to the 'pothecary,
And tell me how it works.

[To PHILEMON.

[Exeunt PHILEMON, Servant, and those who had been fbipwrecked.

Enter tavo Gentlemen.

1 Gent.

Good morrow, fir.

2 Gent, Good morrow to your lordship.

Cer