Pentapolis. A Room in the Palace. |
| |
Enter SIMONIDES, reading a letter; the Knights meet him. |
| First Knight. Good morrow to the good Simonides. |
| Sim. Knights, from my daughter this I let you know, |
| That for this twelvemonth she'll not undertake |
| A married life. |
| Her reason to herself is only known, |
| Which yet from her by no means can I get. |
| Sec. Knight. May we not get access to her, my lord? |
| Sim. Faith, by no means; she hath so strictly tied |
| Her to her chamber that 'tis impossible. |
| One twelve moons more she'll wear Diana's livery; |
| This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vow'd, |
| And on her virgin honour will not break it. |
| Third Knight. Though loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves. [Exeunt Knights. |
| Sim. So, |
| They're well dispatch'd; now to my daughter's letter. |
| She tells me here, she'll wed the stranger knight, |
| Or never more to view nor day nor light. |
| 'Tis well, mistress; your choice agrees with mine; |
| I like that well: how absolute she's in 't, |
| Not minding whether I dislike or no! |
| Well, I do commend her choice; |
| And will no longer have it be delay'd. |
| Soft! here he comes: I must dissemble it. |
| |
Enter PERICLES. |
| Per. All fortune to the good Simonides! |
| Sim. 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 |
| Per. It is your Grace's pleasure to commend, |
| Not my desert. |
| Sim. Sir, you are music's master. |
| Per. The worst of all her scholars, my good lord. |
| Sim. Let me ask you one thing. |
| What do you think of my daughter, sir? |
| Per. A most virtuous princess. |
| Sim. And she is fair too, is she not? |
| Per. As a fair day in summer; wondrous fair. |
| Sim. My daughter, sir, thinks very well of you; |
| Ay, so well, that you must be her master, |
| And she will be your scholar: therefore look to it. |
| Per. I am unworthy for her schoolmaster. |
| Sim. She thinks not so; peruse this writing else. |
| Per. [Aside.] What's here? |
| A letter that she loves the knight of Tyre! |
| 'Tis the king's subtilty to have my life. |
| O! seek not to entrap me, gracious lord, |
| A stranger and distressed gentleman, |
| That never aim'd so high to love your daughter, |
| But bent all offices to honour her. |
| Sim. Thou hast bewitch'd my daughter, and thou art |
| A villain. |
| Per. 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. |
| Sim. Traitor, thou liest. |
| Per. Traitor! |
| Sim. Ay, traitor. |
| Per. Even in his throat, unless it be the king, |
| That calls me traitor, I return the lie. |
| Sim. [Aside.] Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage. |
| Per. My actions are as noble as my thoughts, |
| That never relish'd of a base descent. |
| I came unto your court for honour's cause, |
| And not to be a rebel to her state; |
| And he that otherwise accounts of me, |
| This sword shall prove he's honour's enemy. |
| Sim. No? |
| Here comes my daughter, she can witness it. |
| |
Enter THAISA. |
| Per. Then, as you are as virtuous as fair, |
| Resolve your angry father, if my tongue |
| Did e'er solicit, or my hand subscribe |
| To any syllable that made love to you. |
| Thai. Why, sir, say if you had, |
| Who takes offence at that would make me glad? |
| Sim. Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory? |
| [Aside.] I am glad on 't, 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 aught I know, |
| May be, nor can I think the contrary, |
| As great in blood as I myself.— |
| [Aloud.] Therefore, hear you, mistress; either frame |
| Your will to mine; and you, sir, hear you, |
| Either be rul'd by me, or I will make you— |
| Man and wife: |
| Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too; |
| And being join'd, I'll thus your hopes destroy; |
| And for a further grief,—God give you joy! |
| What! are you both pleas'd? |
| Thai. Yes, if you love me, sir. |
| Per. Even as my life, or blood that fosters it. |
| Sim. What! are you both agreed? |
Thai. Per. Yes, if 't please your majesty. |
| Sim. It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you wed; |
| Then with what haste you can get you to bed. [Exeunt. |
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