I am glad of it with all my heart. [Aside.] I'll tame you; I'll bring you in subjection. Will you, not having my consent, bestow Your love and your affections on a stranger? (Who, for aught I know to the contrary, Or think, may be as great in blood as I.) [Aside. Hear, therefore, mistress; 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, my blood that fosters it. Sim. What, are you both agreed? Both. Yes, 'please your majesty. Sim. It pleaseth me so well, I'll see you wed; Then, with what haste you can, get you to bed. [Exeunt. ACT III. Enter Gower. Gow. Now sleep yslaked hath the rout; Dumb show. Enter Pericles and Simonides at one door, with Attendants; a Messenger meets them, kneels, and gives Pericles a letter. Pericles shows it to Simonides; the Lords kneel to the former. Then enter Thaisa with child, and Lychorida. Simonides shows his daughter the letter; she rejoices: she and Pe ricles take leave of her father, and depart. Then Simonides, &c. retire. Gow. By many a dearn and painful perch, Are letters brought; the tenour these: The crown of Tyre, but he will none: Come not, in twice six moons, home, Will take the crown. The sum of this, Brought hither to Pentapolis, Y-ravished the regions round, And every one with claps 'gan sound, Our heir apparent is a king: Who dream'd, who thought of such a thing? His queen with child, makes her desire And so to sea. Their vessel shakes Hath their keel cut; but fortune's mood In your imagination hold This stage, the ship, upon whose deck SCENE I. Enter Pericles, on a ship at sea. Per. Thou God of this great vast, rebuke these surges, Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that hast Upon the winds command, bind them in brass, Having call'd them from the deep! O still thy deaf'ning, Thy dreadful thunders; gently quench thy nimble, Thy sulphurous flashes!-O how, Lychorida, How does my queen?-Thou storm, thou! venom ously Wilt thou spit all thyself?-The seaman's whistle Divinest patroness, and midwife, gentle Enter Lychorida, with an infant. Lyc. Here is a thing Too young for such a place, who if it had Take in your arms this piece of your dead queen. Lyc. Patience, good sir; do not assist the storm. Here's all that is left living of your queen, A little daughter; for the sake of it, Be manly, and take comfort. Per. O you gods! Why do you make us love your goodly gifts, And snatch them straight away? We, here below, Recall not what we give, and therein may Vie honour with yourselves. Lyc. Even for this charge. Per. Patience, good sir, Now, mild may be thy life! For a more blust'rous birth had never babe: Quiet and gentle thy conditions! For thou'rt the rudeliest welcom'd to this world, That e'er was prince's child. Happy what follows! |