Enter GOWER. |
| Now sleep yslaked hath the rout; |
| No din but snores the house about, |
| Made louder by the o'er-fed breast |
| Of this most pompous marriage-feast. |
| The cat, with eyne of burning coal, |
| Now couches fore the mouse's hole; |
| And crickets sing at the oven's mouth, |
| E'er the blither for their drouth. |
| Hymen hath brought the bride to bed, |
| Where, by the loss of maidenhead, |
| A babe is moulded. Be attent; |
| And time that is so briefly spent |
| With your fine fancies quaintly eche; |
| What's dumb in show I'll plain with speech. |
| |
DUMB SHOW. |
| |
Enter, from one side, PERICLES and SIMONIDES, with Attendants; a Messenger meets them, kneels, and gives PERICLES a letter: PERICLES shows it to SIMONIDES; the Lords kneel to PERICLES. Then enter THAISA with child, and LYCHORIDA: SIMONIDES shows his daughter the letter; she rejoices: she and PERICLES take leave of her father, and all depart. |
| By many a dern and painful perch, |
| Of Pericles the careful search |
| By the four opposing coigns, |
| Which the world together joins, |
| Is made with all due diligence |
| That horse and sail and high expense, |
| Can stead the quest. At last from Tyre,— |
| Fame answering the most strange inquire— |
| To the court of King Simonides |
| Are letters brought, the tenour these: |
| Antiochus and his daughter dead; |
| The men of Tyrus on the head |
| Of Helicanus would set on |
| The crown of Tyre, but he will none: |
| The mutiny he there hastes t' oppress; |
| Says to 'em, if King Pericles |
| Come not home in twice six moons, |
| He, obedient to their dooms, |
| Will take the crown. The sum of this, |
| Brought hither to Pentapolis, |
| Yravished the regions round, |
| And every one with claps can sound, |
| 'Our heir-apparent is a king! |
| Who dream'd, who thought of such a thing?' |
| Brief, he must hence depart to Tyre: |
| His queen, with child, makes her desire,— |
| Which who shall cross?—along to go; |
| Omit we all their dole and woe: |
| Lychorida, her nurse, she takes, |
| And so to sea. Their vessel shakes |
| On Neptune's billow; half the flood |
| Hath their keel cut: but Fortune's mood |
| Varies again; the grisled north |
| Disgorges such a tempest forth, |
| That, as a duck for life that dives, |
| So up and down the poor ship drives. |
| The lady shrieks, and well-a-near |
| Does fall in travail with her fear; |
| And what ensues in this fell storm |
| 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 stage the ship, upon whose deck |
| The sea-tost Pericles appears to speak. [Exit. |
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