The Same. A Hall of State. A Banquet prepared. |
|
Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Marshal, Ladies, Lords, Knights from tilting, and Attendants. |
Sim. Knights, |
To say you're welcome were superfluous. |
To place upon the volume of your deeds, |
As in a title-page, your worth in 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 my guests. |
Thai. But you, my knight and guest; |
To whom this wreath of victory I give, |
And crown you king of this day's happiness. |
Per. 'Tis more by fortune, lady, than by merit. |
Sim. Call it by what you will, the day is yours; |
And here, I hope, is none that envies it. |
In framing an artist art hath thus decreed, |
To make some good, but others to exceed; |
And you're her labour'd scholar. Come, queen o' the feast,— |
For, daughter, so you are,—here take your place; |
Marshal the rest, as they deserve their grace. |
Knights. We are honour'd much by good Simonides. |
Sim. Your presence glads our days; honour we love, |
For who hates honour, hates the gods above. |
Marshal. Sir, yonder is your place. |
Per. Some other is more fit. |
First Knight. Contend not, sir; for we are gentlemen |
That neither in our hearts nor outward eyes |
Envy the great nor do the low despise. |
Per. You are right courteous knights. |
Sim. Sit, sir; sit. |
Per. By Jove, I wonder, that is king of thoughts, |
These cates resist me, she but thought upon. |
Thai. [Aside.] By Juno, that is queen of marriage, |
All viands that I eat do seem unsavoury, |
Wishing him my meat. Sure, he's a gallant gentleman. |
Sim. He's but a country gentleman; |
He has done no more than other knights have done; |
He has broken a staff or so; so let it pass. |
Thai. To me he seems like diamond to glass. |
Per. Yon king's 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 sun for them to reverence. |
None that beheld him, but like lesser lights |
Did vail their crowns to his supremacy; |
Where now his son's like a glow-worm in the night, |
The which hath fire in darkness, none in light: |
Whereby I see that Time's the king of men; |
He's both their parent, and he is their grave, |
And gives them what he will, not what they crave. |
Sim. What, are you merry, knights? |
First Knight. Who can be other in this royal presence? |
Sim. Here, with a cup that's stor'd unto the brim, |
As you do love, fill to your mistress' lips, |
We drink this health to you. |
Knights. We thank your Grace. |
Sim. Yet pause awhile; |
Yon knight doth sit too melancholy, |
As if the entertainment in our court |
Had not a show might countervail his worth. |
Note it not you, Thaisa? |
Thai. What is it |
To me, my father? |
Sim. O! attend, my daughter: |
Princes in this 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 kill'd are wonder'd at. |
Therefore to make his entrance more sweet, |
Here say we drink this standing-bowl of wine to him. |
Thai. Alas! my father, it befits not me |
Unto a stranger knight to be so bold; |
He may my proffer take for an offence, |
Since men take women's gifts for impudence. |
Sim. How! |
Do as I bid you, or you'll move me else. |
Thai. [Aside.] Now, by the gods, he could not please me better. |
Sim. And further tell him, we desire to know of him, |
Of whence he is, his name, and parentage. |
Thai. The king, my father, sir, has drunk to you. |
Per. I thank him. |
Thai. Wishing it so much blood unto your life. |
Per. I thank both him and you, and pledge him freely. |
Thai. And further he desires to know of you, |
Of whence you are, your name and parentage. |
Per. A gentleman of Tyre, my name, Pericles; |
My education been in arts and arms; |
Who, looking for adventures in the world, |
Was by the rough seas reft of ships and men, |
And after shipwrack, driven upon this shore. |
Thai. He thanks your Grace; names himself Pericles, |
A gentleman of Tyre, |
Who only by misfortune of the seas |
Bereft of ships and men, cast on this shore. |
Sim. 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 revels. |
Even in your armours, as you are address'd, |
Will very well become a soldier's dance. |
I will not have excuse, with saying this |
Loud music is too harsh for ladies' heads |
Since they love men in arms as well as beds. [The Knights dance. |
So this was well ask'd, 'twas so well perform'd. |
Come, sir; |
Here is a lady that wants breathing too: |
And I have often heard, you knights of Tyre |
Are excellent in making ladies trip, |
And that their measures are as excellent. |
Per. In those that practise them they are, my lord. |
Sim. O! 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 the best. Pages and lights, to conduct |
These knights unto their several lodgings! Yours, sir, |
We have given order to be next our own. |
Per. I am at your Grace's pleasure. |
Sim. 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. [Exeunt. |
Design © 1995-2007 ZeFLIP.com All rights reserved.