Bawd. Pray you, come hither awhile. You have fortunes coming upon you. Mark me; you must seem to do that fearfully, which you commit willingly; to despise profit, where you have most gain.

To weep that you live as you do, makes pity in your lovers: Seldom, but that pity begets you a good opinion, and that opinion a mere profit."

Mar. I understand you not.

Boult. O, take her home, mistress, take her home: these blushes of her's must be quenched with some present practice.

Bawd. Thou say'st true, i'faith, so they must: for your bride goes to that with shame, which is her way to go with warrant.

Boult. 'Faith some do, and some do not. But, mistress, if I have bargained for the joint,

Bawd. Thou may'st cut a morsel off the spit.
Boult. I may so.

Bawd. Who should deny it? Come, young one, I like the manner of your garments well.

Boult. Ay, by my faith, they shall not be changed yet.

Bawd. Boult, spend thou that in the town: rewhat a sojourner we have: you'll lose nothing by custom. When nature framed this piece, she meant thee a good turn; therefore say what a paragon she is, and thou hast the harvest out of thine own report.

3

Boult. I warrant you, mistress, thunder shall not so awake the beds of eels, as my giving out her beauty stir up the lewdly-inclined. I'll bring home some to-night.

2

a mere profit.] i. e. an absolute, a certain profit.

3 thunder shall not so awake the beds of eels,] Thunder is not supposed to have an effect on fish in general, but on eels only, which are roused by it from the mud, and are therefore more easily taken.

Bard. Come your ways; follow me.

Mar. If fires be hot, knives sharp, or waters deep,

Untied I still my virgin knot will keep.

Diana, aid my purpose!

Bawd. What have we to do with Diana? Pray you, will you go with us?

SCENE IV.

[Exeunt.

Tharsus. A Room in Cleon's House.

Enter CLEON and DIONYZA.

Dion. Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone ? Cle. O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter

The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon!

Dion.

You'll turn a child again.

I think

Cle. Were I chief lord of all the spacious world,

I'd give it to undo the deed. O lady,

Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess

To equal any single crown o'the earth,

I'the justice of compare! O villain Leonine,
Whom thou hast poison'd too!

4

If thou hadst drunk to him, it had been a kindness Becoming well thy feat: what canst thou say, When noble Pericles shall demand his child?

Dion. That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates, To foster it, nor ever to preserve.

She died by night; I'll say so. Who can cross it? Unless you play the impious innocent,'

4 Becoming well thy feat :] Feat, i. c. of a piece with the rest of thy exploit.

Unless you play the impious innocent,] She calls him, an impious simpleton, because such a discovery would touch the life of one of his own family, his wife. An innocent was formerly a common appellation for an idiot.

And for an honest attribute, cry out,

She died by foul play.

Cle.

O, go to. Well, well, Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods

Do like this worst.

Dion.
Be one of those, that think
The pretty wrens of Tharsus will fly hence,
And open this to Pericles. I do shame
To think of what a noble strain you are,
And of how cow'd a spirit.

Cle.
To such proceeding
Who ever but his approbation added,
Though not his pre-consent, he did not flow

From honourable courses.

Dion.

Be it so then :

Yet none does know, but you, how she came dead,
Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.
She did disdain my child, and stood between
Her and her fortunes: None would look on her,
But cast their gazes on Marina's face;

Whilst ours was blurted at, and held a malkin,
Not worth the time of day. It pierced me thorough;
And though you call my course unnatural,
You not your child well loving, yet I find,
It greets me,' as an enterprize of kindness,
Perform'd to your sole daughter.

Cle.

Heavens forgive it!

Dion. And as for Pericles,
What should he say ? We wept after her hearse,
And even yet we mourn: her monument

6

· a malkin,

Not worth the time of day.] A malkin is a coarse wench. Not worth the time of day, is, not worth a good day, or, good morrow; undeserving the most common and usual salutation.

7 It greets me,] Perhaps it greets me, may mean, it pleases me ; c'est a mon gré. If greet be used in its ordinary sense of saluting or meeting with congratulation, it is surely a very harsh phrase.

VOL. VIII,

Ꮓ

Is almost finish'd, and her epitaphs
In glittering golden characters express
A general praise to her, and care in us
At whose expence 'tis done.

Cle.
Thou art like the harpy,
Which, to betray, doth wear an angel's face,
Seize with an eagle's talons.

Dion. You are like one, that superstitiously Doth swear to the gods, that winter kills the flies; But yet I know you'll do as I advise.

[Exeunt.

Enter GowER, before the Monument of MARINA at Tharsus.

Gow. Thus time we waste, and longest leagues make short;

8

Sail seas in cockles, have, and wish but for't;
Making, (to take your imagination,)
From bourn to bourn, region to region.
By you being pardon'd, we commit no crime
To use one language, in each several clime,
Where our scenes seem to live. I do beseech

you,

To learn of me, who stand i'the gaps to teach

you

The stages of our story. Pericles

Is now again thwarting the wayward seas,
(Attended on by many a lord and knight,)
To see his daughter, all his life's delight.
Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late
Advanc'd in time to great and high estate,

* Making, (to take your imagination,)

From bourn to bourn,] Making, &c. is travelling (with the hope of engaging your attention) from one division or boundary of the world to another; i. e. we hope to interest you by the variety of our scene, and the different countries through which we pursue our story.

Is left to govern. Bear you it in mind,
Old Helicanus goes along behind.

Well-sailing ships, and bounteous winds, have brought

This king to Tharsus, (think his pilot thought;
So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow
on,)

To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.
Like motes and shadows see them move awhile;
Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.

Dumb show.

Enter at one door, PERICLES with his Train; CLEON and DIONYZA at the other: CLEON shows PERICLES the Tomb of MARINA; whereat PERICLES makes lamentation, puts on Sackcloth, and in a mighty passion departs. Then CLEON and DIO; NYZA retire.

Gow. See how belief may suffer by foul show! This borrow'd passion stands for true old woe; And Pericles, in sorrow all devour'd,

With sighs shot through, and biggest tears
o'ershow'r'd,

Leaves Tharsus, and again embarks. He swears
Never to wash his face, nor cut his hairs;
He puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears
A tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,'
And yet he rides it out. Now please you wit
The epitaph is for Marina writ

-for true old woe:] i. e. for such tears as were shed when, the world being in its infancy, dissimulation was unknown. All poetical writers are willing to persuade themselves that sincerity expired with the first ages.

A tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,] What is here called his mortal vessel, (i. e. his body,) is styled by Cleopatra her mortal house.

Now please you wit-] Now be pleased to know.