Cle. Thou art like the harpy,

Which, to betray, doth wear an angel's face,

Seize with an eagle's talons.

Dion. You are like one that superstitiously

Doth swear to the gods, that winter kills the flies;

But yet I know you'll do as I advise.

[Exeunt.

Enter GOWER, before the Monument of MARINA, at Tharsus.

Gow. Thus time we waste, and longest leagues make short;
Sail seas in cockles, have, and wish but for't;

Making* (to take your imagination),
From bourn to bourn,† region to region.
By you being pardon'd, we commit no crime,

To use one language, in each several clime,

Where our scenes seem to live. I do beseech you,
To learn of me, who stand i' the gap to teach you
The stages of our story. Pericles

Is now again thwarting the wayward seas
(Attended on by many a lord and knight),
To see his daughter, all his life's delight.
Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late
Advanced in time to great and high estate,
Is left to govern. Bear you it in mind,
Old Helicanus goes along behind.

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

Dumb show.

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

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

With sighs shot through, and biggest tears o'ershow'r'd,

Leaves Tharsus, and again embarks. He swears

Never to wash his face, nor cut his hairs.

He puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears
A tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,
And yet he rides it out. Now please you wit§
The epitaph is for Marina writ,

By wicked Dionyza.

[Reads the inscription on MARINA'S Monument. The fairest, sweet'st, and best, lies here,

Who wither'd in her spring of year.

* Travelling.

+ Boundary.

+ Body.

To know.

She was of Tyrus, the king's daughter,

On whom foul death hath made this slaughter;
Marina was she call'd; and at her birth,

Thetis,* being proud, swallow'd some part o' the earth:
Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,

Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd:
Wherefore she does (and swears she'll never stint) †
Make raging battery upon shores of flint.
No visor does become black villany,

So well as soft and tender flattery.
Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,
And bear his courses to be ordered

By lady Fortune; while our scenes display
His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day,
In her unholy service. Patience then,
And think you now are all in Mitylen.

SCENE V-Mitylene. A Street before the Brothel.

Enter, from the Brothel, two GENTLEMEN.

1 Gent. Did you ever hear the like?

[Exit.

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

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

2 Gent. No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdy-houses: shall we go hear the vestals sing?

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-The same. A Room in the Brothel.

Enter PANDER, BAWD, and BOULT.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enter LYSIMACHUS.

Lys. How now? How a dozen of virginities?

*The sea.

† Never cease.

How much.

Bawd. Now, the gods to-bless your honour!

Boult. I am glad to see your honour in good health.

Lys. You may so; 'tis the better for you that your resorters stand upon sound legs. How now, wholesome iniquity? Have you that a man may deal withal, and defy the surgeon?

Bawd. We have here one, Sir, if she would-but there never came her like in Mitylene.

Lys. If she'd do the deed of darkness, thou wouldst say.
Bawd. Your honour knows what 'tis to say, well enough.
Lys. Well, call forth, call forth.

Boult. For flesh and blood, Sir, white and red, you shall see a rose; and she were a rose indeed, if she had but

Lys. What, pr'ythee?

Boult. O, Sir, I can be modest.

Lys. That dignifies the renown of a bawd, no less than it gives a good report to a number to be chaste.

Enter MARINA.

Bawd. Here comes that which grows to the stalk;-never plucked yet, I can assure you. Is she not a fair creature?

Lys. 'Faith, she would serve after a long voyage at sea. Well, there's for you; leave us.

Bawd. I beseech your honour, give me leave: a word, and I'll have done presently.

Lys. I beseech you, do.

man.

Bawd. First, I would have you note, this is an honourable [To MARINA, whom she takes aside. Mar. I desire to find him so, that I may worthily note him. Bawd. Next, he's the governor of this country, and a man whom I am bound to.

Mar. If he govern the country, you are bound to him indeed; but how honourable he is in that, I know not.

Bawd. 'Pray you, without any more virginal fencing, will you use him kindly? He will line your apron with gold.

Mar. What he will do graciously, I will thankfully receive. Lys. Have you done?

Bawd. My lord, she's not paced yet; you must take some pains to work her to your manage. Come, we will leave his honour and her together. [Exeunt BAWD, PANDER, and BOULT. Lys. Go thy ways-Now, pretty one, how long have you been at this trade?

Mar. What trade, Sir?

Lys. What I cannot name, but I shall offend.

Mar. I cannot be offended with my trade.

Please you to name it.

Lys. How long have you been of this profession?

Mar. Ever since I can remember.

Lys. Did you go to it so young? were you a gamester* at five, or at seven ?

Mar. Earlier too, Sir, if now I be one.

Lys. Why, the house you dwell in, proclaims you to be a creature of sale.

*A wanton.

Mar. Do you know this house to be a place of such resort, and will come into it? I hear say, you are of honourable parts, and are the governor of this place.

Lys. Why, hath your principal made known unto you who I am? Mar. Who is my principal ?

Lys. Why, your herb woman; she that sets seeds and roots of shame and iniquity. O, 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.

Mar. If you were born to honour, show it now;

If put upon you, make the judgment good

That thought you worthy of it.

Lys. How's this? how's this ?-Some more;-be sage.
Mar. For me,

That am a maid, though most ungentle fortune

Hath placed me here, within this loathsome sty,
Where, since I came, diseases have been sold
Dearer than physic,-O that the good gods
Would set me free from this unhallow'd place,
Though they did change me to the meanest bird
That flies i' the purer air!

Lys. I did not think

Thou couldst have spoke so well; ne'er dream'd thou couldst.
Had I brought hither a corrupted mind,

Thy speech had alter'd it. Hold, here's gold for thee:
Perséver still in that clear way thou goest,

And the gods strengthen thee!

Mar. The gods preserve you!
Lys. For me be you thoughten

That I came with no ill intent: for to me
The very doors and windows savour vilely.
Farewell. Thou art a piece of virtue, and

I doubt not but thy training 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 hear'st from me,
It shall be for thy good.

[As LYSIMACHUS is putting up his purse, BoULT enters. Boult. I beseech your honour, one piece for me.

Lys. Avaunt, thou damned door-keeper! Your house, But for this virgin that doth prop it up,

Would sink, and overwhelm you all. Away!

[Exit LYSIMACHUS.

Boult. 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. Mar. Whither would you have me?

Boult. I must have your maidenhead taken off, or the common

*Canopy of heaven

hangman shall execute it. Come your way. We'll have no more gentlemen driven away. Come your ways, I say.

Re-enter BAWD.

Bawd. How now, what's the matter?

Boult. Worse and worse, mistress; she has here spoken holy words to the lord Lysimachus.

Bawd. O abominable!

Boult. She makes our profession as it were to stink afore the face of the gods.

Bawd. Marry, hang her up for ever!

Boult. The nobleman would have dealt with her like a nobleman, and she sent him away as cold as a snowball; saying his prayers too.

Bawd. Boult, take her away: use her at thy pleasure: crack the glass of her virginity, and make the rest malleable.

Boult. An if she were a thornier piece of ground than she is, she shall be ploughed.

Mar. Hark, hark, you gods!

Bawd. She conjures away with her. Would she had never come within my doors! Marry hang you! she's born to undo us. Will you not go the way of women-kind? Marry come up, my dish of chastity with rosemary and bays!

Boult. Come, mistress; come your way with me.
Mar. Whither would you have me?

[Exit BAWD.

Boult. To take from you the jewel you hold so dear.
Mar. Pr'ythee tell me one thing first.

Boult. Come now, your one thing.

Mar. What canst thou wish thine enemy to be?

Boult. Why, I could wish him to be my master, or rather my mistress.

Mar. Neither of these are yet so bad as thou art,

Since they do better thee in their command.

Thou hold'st a place, for which the pained'st fiend

Of hell would not in reputation change:

Thou'rt the damn'd door-keeper to every coystrel *
That hither comes, enquiring for his Tib;†
To the choleric fisting of each rogue thy ear

Is liable; thy very food is such

As hath been belch'd on by infected lungs.

Boult. What would you have me? 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?

Empty

Mar. Do anything but this thou doest.
Old receptacles, common sewers, of filth;
Serve by indenture to the common hangman;
Any of these ways are better yet than this:
For that which thou professest, a baboon,
Could he but speak, would own a name too dear.
O that the gods would safely from this place
Deliver me! Here, here is gold for thee.