1 Lord. See, not a man in private conference, Or council, has respect with him but he.' 2 Lord. It shall no longer grieve without reproof. 1 Lord. Know that our griefs are risen to the top, And now at length they overflow their banks. Hel. Your griefs, for what? wrong not the prince 1 Lord. Wrong not yourself, then, noble Helicane; 2 Lord. Whose death's, indeed, the strongest in And knowing this kingdom, if without a head, All. Live, noble Helicane! Hel. Try honour's cause, forbear your suffrages: Go search like noblemen, like noble subjects, 1 Lord. To wisdom he's a fool that will not yield; Hel. Then you love us, we you, and we'll clasp hands; When peers thus knit, a kingdom ever stands. [Exeunt. know, That for this twelvemonth, she'll not undertake Her reason to herself is only known, Which from herself by no means can I get. 2 Knight. May we not get access to her, my lord? Sim. 'Faith, by no means; she hath so strictly To her chamber, that it is impossible. To what this charge of partiality was designed to 3 i. e. the most probable in our opinion. Censure is frequently used for judgment, opinion, by Shakspeare. 4 The old copy reads: Take 1 your wish, I leap into the seas,' &c. Steevens contends for the old reading; that it is merely figurative, and means, I embark too hastily on an expedition in which ease is disproportioned to labour. 5 Some word being omitted in this line in the old copy, Steevens thus supplied it : To forbear choice i' the absence of your king.' This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vow'd, Sim. So, They're well despatch'd; now to my daughter's letter: She tells me here, she'll wed the stranger knight, And will no longer have it be delay'd. Per. All fortune to the good Simonides! Sim. To you as much, sir! I am beholden to you, Per. It is your grace's pleasure to commend; Sim. As of a most virtuous princess. Per. As a fair day in summer: wondrous fair. Sim. She thinks not so; peruse this writing else. [Ande. A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre! A villain. Per. thou art By the gods, I have not, sir. Per. Traitor! Sim. Sim. Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage. Per. My actions are as noble as my thoughts, I came unto your court, for honour's cause, Here comes my daughter, she can witness it Per. Then as you are as virtuous as fair, Who takes offence at that would make me glad. 6 It were to be wished, (says Steevens,) that Simo- That has no relish of salvation in it' So well thy words become thee as thy wounds, Sim. Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory ?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.1 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. ACT III. Enter GoWER. [Exeunt. Gow. Now sleep yslaked hath the rout; Enter PERICLES and SIMONIDES at one door, with 1 The quarto of 1619 reads:- Even as my life or blood that fosters it.' We have the same thought most exquisitely expressed in Julius Cæsar : As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops 2 So Virgil, speaking of Rhamnes, who was killed in the midnight expedition of Nisus and Euryalus: Rhamneten aggreditur, qui forte tapetibus altis 3 Eke out. 4 The Lords kneel to Pericles, because they are now, for the first time, informed by this letter, that he is king of Tyre. 'No man,' says Gower, in his Confessio Amantis: knew the soth cas, But he hym selfe; what man he was.' By the death of Antiochus and his daughter, Pericles has also succeeded to the throne of Autioch, in consequence of having rightly interpreted the riddle proposed to him. 5 Dearn signifies lonely, solitary. A perch is a measure of five yards and a half. The careful search of Pericles is made by many a dearn and painful perch, by the four opposing coignes which join the world to gether; with all due diligence.' 6 i. e. help, befriend or assist the search. So in Measure for Measure: can you so stead me To bring me to the sight of Isabella?' 7 i. e. to suppress: opprimere. An exclamation equivalent to well-a-day. 9 The further consequences of this storm I shall not describe; what ensues may be conveniently exhibited in action; but action could not well have displayed all the events that I have now related.' Of Pericles the careful search That horse, and sail, and high expense, Are letters brought; the tenor these: The crown of Tyre, but he will none: The sum of this, Who dream'd, who thought of such a thing? This stage, the ship,10 upon whose deck 11 It should be remembered that Pericles is supposed to speak from the deck. Lychorida, on whom he calls, is supposed to be in the cabin beneath. This great vast is this wide expanse. This speech is exhibited in so strange a form in the old editions, that it is here given to enable the reader to judge in what a corrupt state it has come down to us, and be induced to treat the attempts to restore it to integrity with indulgence: The God of this great vast, rebuke these surges, Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou that hast Upon the windes commaund, bind them in brasse; Having call'd them from the deepe, o still Thy deafning dreadful thunders, gently quench Thy nimble sulphirous flashes, o How Lychorida! How does my queene? thou storm venemously, Wilt thou speat all thyself? the sea-mans whistle Is as a whisper in the eares of death, Unheard Lychorida? Lucina oh! Divinest patrioness and my wife gentle To those that cry by night, convey thy deitie Aboard our dauncing boat, make swift the pangues Of my queenes travayles? now Lychorida? Pericles, having called to Lychorida, without the power to make her hear on account of the tempest, at last with frantic peevishness addresses himself to it :Thou storm thou! venemously Wilt thou spit all thyself? Having indulged himself in this question, he grows cooler, and observes that the very boatswain's whistle has no more effect on the sailors than the voices of those who speak to the dead. He then repeats his inquiries 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 Wilt thou spit all thyself?-The seaman's whistle Of Even for this charge. Per. Patience, good sir, Now, mild may be thy life! As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make, Enter Two Sailors. 1 Sail. What courage, sir? God save you. Per. Courage enough: I do not fear the flaw;" It hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the love Of this poor infant, this fresh-new sea-farer, I would, it would be quiet. 1 Sail. Slack the bolins there; thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow and split thyself. 2 Sail. But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon, I care not. 1 Sail. Sir, your queen must overboard; the sea works high, the wind is loud, and will not lie till the ship be cleared of the dead. Per. That's your superstition. of Lychorida, but receiving no answer, concludes with a prayer for his queen. 1 Maliciously. 2 i. e. who if it had thought? 1 Sail. Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it stil hath been observed; and we are strong in custom.' Therefore briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight. Per. Be it as you think meet.-Most wretched queen! Lyc. Here she lies, sir. Per. A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my dear, To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink, and paper, Per. I thank thee. Mariner, say, what coast is this? Cer. Your master will be dead ere you return; 1 Gent. Why do you stir so early? be evident if we recur to the author's leading thought, which is founded on the customs observed in the pomp of ancient sepulture. Within old monuments and re 3 That is, contend with you in honour. The old ceptacles for the dead perpetual (i. e. aye-remaining) copy reads: Use honour with you.' 4 Conditions are qualities, dispositions of mind. 5 i. e as noisy a one. lamps were supposed to be lighted up. Thus Pope, in his Eloisa: Ah hopeless lasting flames, like those that burn 6 i. e. thou hast already lost more (by the death of thy To light the dead, and warm th' unfruitful urn!? mother) than thy safe arrival at the port of life can 'Instead of a monument erected over thy bones, and percounterbalance, with all to boot that we can give thee.petual lamps to burn near them, the spouting whale shall Portage is here used for conveyance into life. 7 A flaw is a stormy gust of wind. See Coriolanus, Act v. Sc. 3. oppress thee with his weight, and the mass of waters 8 Bolins or bowlines are ropes by which the sails of a the wind is fair; Top the bowling. 13 Change thy course, which is now for Tyre, and go to Tharsus,' 14 The precedent words show that the physic cannot 9 The old copy reads, 'strong in easterne. The be designed for the master of the servant here introduced. emendation is Mr. Boswell's. 10 Old copy, 'in oare.' 11 The old copies erroneously read : The air-remaining lamps.' Perhaps the circumstance was introduced for no other reason than to mark more strongly the extensive benevolence of Cerimon. It could not be meant for the poor men who have just left the stage, to whom he has ordered The emendation is Malone's. The propriety of it will kitchen physic. Virtue and cunnings were endowments greater (Together with my practice,) made familiar That threw her in the sea. Make fire within; That nature works, and of her cures; which give me Fetch hither all the boxes in my closet. A more content in course of true delight Than to be thirsty after tottering honour, 2 Gent. Your honour has through Ephesus pour'd forth Death may usurp on nature many hours, By good appliance was recover'd. Enter a Servant, with Boxes, Napkins, and Fire. Well said, well said; the fire and the cloths.The rough and woful music that we have, Cause it to sound, 'beseech you. The vial once more ;-how thou stirr'st, thou block! The music there.-I pray you, give her air :Gentlemen, nature awakes; a warmth she hath not been entranc'd See, how she 'gins to blow This queen will live Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest; 'Tis of some wreck. Cer. Set't down, let's look on it. 2 Gent. 'Tis like a coffin, sir. Cer. Whate'er it be, 2 Gent. "Tis so, my lord. Cer. How close 'tis caulk'd and bitum'd!Did the sea cast it up? 1 The principals are the strongest rafters in the roof of a building. 2 All. to is a common augmentative in old language. The word topple, which means tumble, is used again in Macbeth: Though castles topple on their warders' heads.' 3 Husbandry here signifies economical prudence. So in Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3: borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry,' And in Henry V.: For our bad neighbours make us early stirrers, Which is both heathful and good husbandry.' 4 The gentlemen rose early because they were in lodgings, which stood exposed near the sea. They wouder to find Lord Cerimon stirring, because he had rich tire about him, meaning perhaps a bed more richly and comfortably furnished, where he could have slept warm and secure in defiance of the tempest. Steevens thinks that the reasoning of these gentlemen should have led them rather to say, 'such towers about you,' i. e. a house or castle that could safely resist the assaults of the weather. 5 i. e. knowledge. 6 Mr. Steevens had seen an old Flemish print in which Death was exhibited in the act of plundering a miser of his bags, and the Fool (discriminated by his Dauble, &c.) was standing behind and grinning at the process. The Dance of Death appears to have been. The heavens, sir, Through you, increase our wonder, and set up Your fame for ever. Cer. She is alive; behold, Begin to part their fringes of bright gold ;8 anciently a popular exhibition. A venerable and aged clergyman informed Mr. Steevens that he had once been a spectator of it The dance consisted of Death's contrivances to surprise the Merry Andrew, and of the Merry Andrew's efforts to elude the stratagems of Death, by whom at last he was overpowered; his finale being attended with such circumstances as mark the exit of the Dragon of Wantley. It should seem that the general idea of this serio-comic pas-de-deux had been borrowed from the ancient Dance of Machabre, commonly called the Dance of Death. which appears to have been anciently acted in churches like the Moralities. The subject was a frequent ornament of cloisters both here and abroad. The reader will remember the beautiful series of wood-cuts of the Dance of Death, attributed, (though erroneously,) to Holbein. Mr. Douce is in possession of an exquisite set of initial letters, representing the same subject; in one of which the Fool is engaged in a very stout combat with his adversary, and is actually buffeting him with a bladder filled with peas or pebbles, an instrument used by modern Merry Andrews. 7 In Twine's translation of the story of Apollonius of Tyre this uncommon phrase, a-land, is repeatedly used. In that version it is to Cerimon's pupil, Machaon, and not to Cerimon himself, that the lady is indebted for her recovery. 8 So in the Tempest :- 'The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say what thou seest yond?' Cle. Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt mortally,2 Yet glance full wand'ringly on us. you O, your sweet queen! That the strict fates had pleas'd you had brought her hither, To have bless'd mine eyes! Per. We cannot but obey The powers above us. Could I rage and roar As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end Must be as 'tis. My babe Marina (whom For she was born at sea, I have nam'd so) here I charge your charity withal, and leave her The infant of your care; beseeching you To give her princely training, that she may be Manner'd as she is born. Cle. The gods revenge it upon me and mine, Per. I believe you; Your honour and your goodness teach me credit,4 1 This is from the Confessio Amantis:- And when she more of strength caught, She spake, and said, Where am I? Where is my lorde? What worlde is this ? 2 The old copy reads: 'Your shakes of fortune, though they haunt you mortally, Madam, my thanks and prayers. Cle. We'll bring your grace even to the edge o the shore; Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune;" and Your offer. Come, dear'st madam.-O, no tears, Look to your little mistress, on whose grace You may depend hereafter.—Come, my lord. [Exeunt SCENE IV. Ephesus. A Room in Cerimon's That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember, I cannot rightly say: But since King Pericles, Cer. Madam, if this you purpose as you speak, Diana's temple is not distant far, Where you may 'bide until your date expire Thai. My recompense is thanks, that's all: Yet my good will is great, though the gift small [Exeunt. ACT IV. Enter GoWER.9 Gow. Imagine Pericles arriv'd at Tyre, Whom our fast growing scene must find1o In music, letters; who hath gain'd Of education all the grace, Which makes her both the heart and place" The corruption is obvious, as appears from a subsequent passage: This ornament, that makes me look so dismal 6 i. e. Insidious waves that wear a treacherous smile. Subdola quem ridet placidi pellacia ponti.' Lucret. ii. v. 559. 7 The quarto, 1619, and the folio, 1664, which was probably printed from it, both read caning. The first quarto reads learning. Steevens asserts that caning is a term only applicable to sheep when they produce their young, and substituted yearning,' which he interprets The folios have though they hate you. The emenda- her groaning time.' But it should be observed that to tion is by Steevens, who cites the following illustra-ean or yean, in our elder language, as in the Anglotions: Omnibus telis fortunæ proposita sit vita nos-Saxon, signified to bring forth young, without any par tra.'-Cicero Epist. Fam. Yet glance full wond'ringly,' &c. The shot of accident or dart of chance. Othello. "The slings and arrows of ourageous fortune. Hamlet. "I am glad, though you have taken a special stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath glanced. Merry Wives of Windsor. The sense of the passage seems to be, all the malice of fortune is not confined to yourself, though her arrows strike deeply at you, yet wandering from their mark, they sometimes glance on us; as at present, when the uncertain state of Tyre deprives us of your company at Tharsus. 3 i. e. be satisfied that we cannot forget the benefits you have bestowed on us. 4 The old copy reads, 'teach me to it: the alteration was made by Steevens. 5 i. e. appear wilful, perverse by such conduct. The old copy reads in the preceding line: Unsister'd shall this heir of mine,' &c. ticular reference to sheep. I have therefore preferred ise reading in the text to Steevens's conjecture. 8 i. e. until you die. So in Romeo and Juliet:-The date is out of such prolixity.' Again, in the same play : —and expire the term Of a despised life.' And in the Rape of Lucrece :— An expir'd date, cancell'd ere well begun." 9 This chorus, and the two following scenes, in the old editions, are printed as part of the third act. 10 The same expression occurs in the chorus to The Winter's Tale :- your patience this allowing, I turn my glass, and give my scene such growing As you had slept between.' 11 The old copies read- Which makes high both the art and place." The emendation is by Steevens. We still use the heart |