Antioch. A Room in the Palace. |
|
Enter ANTIOCHUS, PERICLES, and Attendants. |
Ant. Young Prince of Tyre, you have at large receiv'd |
The danger of the task you undertake. |
Per. I have, Antiochus, and, with a soul |
Embolden'd with the glory of her praise, |
Think death no hazard in this enterprise. |
Ant. Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride, |
For the embracements even of Jove himself; |
At whose conception, till Lucina reign'd, |
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 ANTIOCHUS. |
Per. See, where she comes apparell'd 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 raz'd, and testy wrath |
Could never be her mild companion. |
You gods, that made me man, and sway in love, |
That hath inflam'd desire in my breast |
To taste the fruit of yon 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! |
Ant. Prince Pericles,— |
Per. That would be son to great Antiochus. |
Ant. Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, |
With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch'd; |
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. |
Yon sometime famous princes, like thyself, |
Drawn by report, adventurous by desire, |
Tell thee with speechless tongues and semblance pale, |
That without covering, save yon field of stars, |
They here stand martyrs, slain in Cupid's wars; |
And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist |
For going on death's net, whom none resist. |
Per. 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 remember'd 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 erst they did: |
So I bequeath a happy peace to you |
And all good men, as every prince should do; |
My riches to the earth from whence they came, [To the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS. |
But my unspotted fire of love to you. |
Thus ready for the way of life or death, |
I wait the sharpest blow. |
Ant. Scorning advice, read the conclusion then; |
Which read and not expounded, 'tis decreed, |
As these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed. |
Daugh. Of all say'd yet, mayst thou prove prosperous! |
Of all say'd yet, I wish thee happiness! |
Per. Like a bold champion, I assume the lists, |
Nor ask advice of any other thought |
But faithfulness and courage. | I am no viper, yet I feed |
| On mother's flesh which did me breed; |
| I sought a husband, in which labour |
| I found that kindness in a father. |
| He's 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, O 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 lov'd you, and could still, |
Were not this glorious casket stor'd 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're a fair viol, and your sense the strings, |
Who, finger'd to make men his lawful music, |
Would draw heaven down and all the gods to hearken; |
But being play'd upon before your time, |
Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime. |
Good sooth, I care not for you. |
Ant. Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life, |
For that's an article within our law, |
As dangerous as the rest. Your time's expir'd: |
Either expound now or receive your sentence. |
Per. Great king, |
Few love to hear the sins they love to act; |
'Twould 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, |
The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear |
To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts |
Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is throng'd |
By man's oppression; and the poor worm doth die for't. |
Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's 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 grows worse, to smother it. |
All love the womb that their first being bred, |
Then give my tongue like leave to love my head. |
Ant. [Aside.] Heaven! that I had thy head; he has found the meaning; |
But I will gloze with him. Young Prince of Tyre, |
Though by the tenour 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 we'll joy in such a son: |
And until then your entertain shall be |
As doth befit our honour and your worth. [Exeunt all but PERICLES. |
Per. How courtesy would seem to cover sin, |
When what is done is like a hypocrite, |
The which 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're both a father and a son, |
By your untimely claspings with your child,— |
Which pleasure fits a husband, not a father;— |
And she an eater of her mother's flesh, |
By the defiling of her parent's 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; |
Murder's as near to lust as flame to smoke. |
Poison and treason are the hands of sin, |
Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame: |
Then, lest my life be cropp'd to keep you clear, |
By flight I'll shun the danger which I fear. [Exit. |
|
Re-enter ANTIOCHUS. |
Ant. He hath found the meaning, for which we mean |
To take 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. |
Thal. Doth your highness call? |
Ant. Thaliard, |
You're of our chamber, and our mind partakes |
Her private actions to your secrecy; |
And for your faithfulness we will advance you. |
Thaliard, 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? |
Thal. My lord, 'tis done. |
Ant. Enough. |
|
Enter a Messenger. |
Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste. |
Mess. My lord, Prince Pericles is fled. [Exit. |
Ant. [To THALIARD.] As thou |
Wilt live, fly after; and, as an arrow shot |
From a well-experienc'd archer hits the mark |
His eye doth level at, so thou ne'er return |
Unless thou say 'Prince Pericles is dead.' |
Thal. My lord, |
If I can get him within my pistol's length, |
I'll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness. |
Ant. Thaliard, adieu! [Exit THALIARD. |
Till Pericles be dead, |
My heart can lend no succour to my head. [Exit. |
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