Antioch. A Room in the Palace. | |
| |
Enter ANTIOCHUS, PERICLES, and Attendants. | |
| Ant. Young Prince of Tyre, you have at large receiv’d | |
| The danger of the task you undertake. | 4 |
| Per. I have, Antiochus, and, with a soul | |
| Embolden’d with the glory of her praise, | |
| Think death no hazard in this enterprise. | |
| Ant. Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride, | 8 |
| For the embracements even of Jove himself; | |
| At whose conception, till Lucina reign’d, | |
| Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence, | |
| The senate-house of planets all did sit, | 12 |
| To knit in her their best perfections. [Music. | |
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Enter the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS. | |
| Per. See, where she comes apparell’d like the spring, | |
| Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king | 16 |
| Of every virtue gives renown to men! | |
| Her face the book of praises, where is read | |
| Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence | |
| Sorrow were ever raz’d, and testy wrath | 20 |
| Could never be her mild companion. | |
| You gods, that made me man, and sway in love, | |
| That hath inflam’d desire in my breast | |
| To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree | 24 |
| Or die in the adventure, be my helps, | |
| As I am son and servant to your will, | |
| To compass such a boundless happiness! | |
| Ant. Prince Pericles,— | 28 |
| Per. That would be son to great Antiochus. | |
| Ant. Before thee stands this fair Hesperides, | |
| With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch’d; | |
| For death-like dragons here affright thee hard: | 32 |
| Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view | |
| Her countless glory, which desert must gain; | |
| And which, without desert, because thine eye | |
| Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die. | 36 |
| Yon sometime famous princes, like thyself, | |
| Drawn by report, adventurous by desire, | |
| Tell thee with speechless tongues and semblance pale, | |
| That without covering, save yon field of stars, | 40 |
| They here stand martyrs, slain in Cupid’s wars; | |
| And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist | |
| For going on death’s net, whom none resist. | |
| Per. Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught | 44 |
| My frail mortality to know itself, | |
| And by those fearful objects to prepare | |
| This body, like to them, to what I must; | |
| For death remember’d should be like a mirror, | 48 |
| Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error. | |
| I’ll make my will then; and as sick men do, | |
| Who know the world, see heaven, but feeling woe, | |
| Gripe not at earthly joys as erst they did: | 52 |
| So I bequeath a happy peace to you | |
| And all good men, as every prince should do; | |
| My riches to the earth from whence they came, [To the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS. | |
| But my unspotted fire of love to you. | 56 |
| Thus ready for the way of life or death, | |
| I wait the sharpest blow. | |
| Ant. Scorning advice, read the conclusion then; | |
| Which read and not expounded, ’tis decreed, | 60 |
| As these before thee thou thyself shalt bleed. | |
| Daugh. Of all say’d yet, mayst thou prove prosperous! | |
| Of all say’d yet, I wish thee happiness! | |
| Per. Like a bold champion, I assume the lists, | 64 |
| Nor ask advice of any other thought | |
But faithfulness and courage.| | I am no viper, yet I feed |
| On mother’s flesh which did me breed; |
| I sought a husband, in which labour |
| I found that kindness in a father. |
| He’s father, son, and husband mild, |
| I mother, wife, and yet his child. |
| How they may be, and yet in two, |
| As you will live, resolve it you. |
| |
| Sharp physic is the last: but, O you powers! | |
| That give heaven countless eyes to view men’s acts, | 68 |
| Why cloud they not their sights perpetually, | |
| If this be true, which makes me pale to read it? | |
| Fair glass of light, I lov’d you, and could still, | |
| Were not this glorious casket stor’d with ill: | 72 |
| But I must tell you now my thoughts revolt; | |
| For he’s no man on whom perfections wait | |
| That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate. | |
| You’re a fair viol, and your sense the strings, | 76 |
| Who, finger’d to make men his lawful music, | |
| Would draw heaven down and all the gods to hearken; | |
| But being play’d upon before your time, | |
| Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime. | 80 |
| Good sooth, I care not for you. | |
| Ant. Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life, | |
| For that’s an article within our law, | |
| As dangerous as the rest. Your time’s expir’d: | 84 |
| Either expound now or receive your sentence. | |
| Per. Great king, | |
| Few love to hear the sins they love to act; | |
| ’Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it. | 88 |
| Who has a book of all that monarchs do, | |
| He’s more secure to keep it shut than shown; | |
| For vice repeated is like the wandering wind, | |
| Blows dust in others’ eyes, to spread itself; | 92 |
| And yet the end of all is bought thus dear, | |
| The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear | |
| To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts | |
| Copp’d hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is throng’d | 96 |
| By man’s oppression; and the poor worm doth die for’t. | |
| Kings are earth’s gods; in vice their law’s their will; | |
| And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill? | |
| It is enough you know; and it is fit, | 100 |
| What being more known grows worse, to smother it. | |
| All love the womb that their first being bred, | |
| Then give my tongue like leave to love my head. | |
| Ant. [Aside.] Heaven! that I had thy head; he has found the meaning; | 104 |
| But I will gloze with him. Young Prince of Tyre, | |
| Though by the tenour of our strict edict, | |
| Your exposition misinterpreting, | |
| We might proceed to cancel of your days; | 108 |
| Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree | |
| As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise: | |
| Forty days longer we do respite you; | |
| If by which time our secret be undone, | 112 |
| This mercy shows we’ll joy in such a son: | |
| And until then your entertain shall be | |
| As doth befit our honour and your worth. [Exeunt all but PERICLES. | |
| Per. How courtesy would seem to cover sin, | 116 |
| When what is done is like a hypocrite, | |
| The which is good in nothing but in sight! | |
| If it be true that I interpret false, | |
| Then were it certain you were not so bad | 120 |
| As with foul incest to abuse your soul; | |
| Where now you’re both a father and a son, | |
| By your untimely claspings with your child,— | |
| Which pleasure fits a husband, not a father;— | 124 |
| And she an eater of her mother’s flesh, | |
| By the defiling of her parent’s bed; | |
| And both like serpents are, who though they feed | |
| On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed. | 128 |
| Antioch, farewell! for wisdom sees, those men | |
| Blush not in actions blacker than the night, | |
| Will shun no course to keep them from the light. | |
| One sin, I know, another doth provoke; | 132 |
| Murder’s as near to lust as flame to smoke. | |
| Poison and treason are the hands of sin, | |
| Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame: | |
| Then, lest my life be cropp’d to keep you clear, | 136 |
| By flight I’ll shun the danger which I fear. [Exit. | |
| |
Re-enter ANTIOCHUS. | |
| Ant. He hath found the meaning, for which we mean | |
| To take his head. | 140 |
| He must not live to trumpet forth my infamy, | |
| Nor tell the world Antiochus doth sin | |
| In such a loathed manner; | |
| And therefore instantly this prince must die, | 144 |
| For by his fall my honour must keep high. | |
| Who attends us there? | |
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Enter THALIARD. | |
| Thal. Doth your highness call? | 148 |
| Ant. Thaliard, | |
| You’re of our chamber, and our mind partakes | |
| Her private actions to your secrecy; | |
| And for your faithfulness we will advance you. | 152 |
| Thaliard, behold, here’s poison, and here’s gold: | |
| We hate the Prince of Tyre, and thou must kill him: | |
| It fits thee not to ask the reason why, | |
| Because we bid it. Say, is it done? | 156 |
| Thal. My lord, ’tis done. | |
| Ant. Enough. | |
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Enter a Messenger. | |
| Let your breath cool yourself, telling your haste. | 160 |
| Mess. My lord, Prince Pericles is fled. [Exit. | |
| Ant. [To THALIARD.] As thou | |
| Wilt live, fly after; and, as an arrow shot | |
| From a well-experienc’d archer hits the mark | 164 |
| His eye doth level at, so thou ne’er return | |
| Unless thou say ‘Prince Pericles is dead.’ | |
| Thal. My lord, | |
| If I can get him within my pistol’s length, | 168 |
| I’ll make him sure enough: so, farewell to your highness. | |
| Ant. Thaliard, adieu! [Exit THALIARD. | |
| Till Pericles be dead, | |
| My heart can lend no succour to my head. [Exit. | 172 |
