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Tyre. A Room in the Palace. | |
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Enter PERICLES. | |
| Per. [To those without.] Let none disturb us.—Why should this change of thoughts, | |
| The sad companion, dull-ey’d melancholy, | |
| Be my so us’d a guest, as not an hour | 5 |
| In the day’s glorious walk or peaceful night— | |
| The tomb where grief should sleep—can breed me quiet? | |
| Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun them, | |
| And danger, which I feared, is at Antioch, | |
| Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here; | 10 |
| Yet neither pleasure’s art can joy my spirits, | |
| Nor yet the other’s distance comfort me. | |
| Then it is thus: the passions of the mind, | |
| That have their first conception by mis-dread, | |
| Have after-nourishment and life by care; | 15 |
| And what was first but fear what might be done, | |
| Grows elder now and cares it be not done. | |
| And so with me: the great Antiochus,— | |
| ’Gainst whom I am too little to contend, | |
| Since he’s so great can make his will his act,— | 20 |
| Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence; | |
| Nor boots it me to say I honour him, | |
| If he suspect I may dishonour him; | |
| And what may make him blush in being known, | |
| He’ll stop the course by which it might be known. | 25 |
| With hostile forces he’ll o’erspread the land, | |
| And with the ostent of war will look so huge, | |
| Amazement shall drive courage from the state, | |
| Our men be vanquish’d ere they do resist, | |
| And subjects punish’d that ne’er thought offence: | 30 |
| Which care of them, not pity of myself,— | |
| Who am no more but as the tops of trees, | |
| Which fence the roots they grow by and defend them,— | |
| Make both my body pine and soul to languish, | |
| And punish that before that he would punish. | 35 |
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Enter HELICANUS and other Lords. | |
| First Lord. Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast! | |
| Sec. Lord. And keep your mind, till you return to us, | |
| Peaceful and comfortable. | |
| Hel. Peace, peace! and give experience tongue. | 40 |
| They do abuse the king that flatter him; | |
| For flattery is the bellows blows up sin; | |
| The thing the which is flatter’d, but a spark, | |
| To which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing; | |
| Whereas reproof, obedient and in order, | 45 |
| Fits kings, as they are men, for they may err: | |
| When Signior Sooth here does proclaim a peace, | |
| He flatters you, makes war upon your life. | |
| Prince, pardon me, or strike me, if you please; | |
| I cannot be much lower than my knees. | 50 |
| Per. All leave us else; but let your cares o’erlook | |
| What shipping and what lading’s in our haven, | |
| And then return to us. [Exeunt Lords. | |
| Helicanus, thou | |
| Hast mov’d us; what seest thou in our looks? | 55 |
| Hel. An angry brow, dread lord. | |
| Per. If there be such a dart in prince’s frowns, | |
| How durst thy tongue move anger to our face? | |
| Hel. How dare the plants look up to heaven, from whence | |
| They have their nourishment? | 60 |
| Per. Thou know’st I have power | |
| To take thy life from thee. | |
| Hel. [Kneeling.] I have ground the axe myself; | |
| Do you but strike the blow. | |
| Per. Rise, prithee, rise; | 65 |
| Sit down; thou art no flatterer: | |
| I thank thee for it; and heaven forbid | |
| That kings should let their ears hear their faults hid! | |
| Fit counsellor and servant for a prince, | |
| Who by thy wisdom mak’st a prince thy servant, | 70 |
| What wouldst thou have me do? | |
| Hel. To bear with patience | |
| Such griefs as you yourself do lay upon yourself. | |
| Per. Thou speak’st like a physician, Helicanus, | |
| That minister’st a potion unto me | 75 |
| That thou wouldst tremble to receive thyself, | |
| Attend me then: I went to Antioch, | |
| Where as thou know’st, against the face of death | |
| I sought the purchase of a glorious beauty, | |
| From whence an issue I might propagate | 80 |
| Are arms to princes and bring joys to subjects. | |
| Her face was to mine eye beyond all wonder; | |
| The rest, hark in thine ear, as black as incest; | |
| Which by my knowledge found, the sinful father | |
| Seem’d not to strike, but smooth; but thou know’st this, | 85 |
| ’Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss. | |
| Which fear so grew in me I hither fled, | |
| Under the covering of a careful night, | |
| Who seem’d my good protector; and, being here, | |
| Bethought me what was past, what might succeed. | 90 |
| I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants’ fears | |
| Decrease not, but grow faster than the years. | |
| And should he doubt it, as no doubt he doth, | |
| That I should open to the listening air | |
| How many worthy princes’ bloods were shed, | 95 |
| To keep his bed of blackness unlaid ope, | |
| To lop that doubt he’ll fill this land with arms, | |
| And make pretence of wrong that I have done him; | |
| When all, for mine, if I may call ’t, offence, | |
| Must feel war’s blow, who spares not innocence: | 100 |
| Which love to all, of which thyself art one, | |
| Who now reprov’st me for it,— | |
| Hel. Alas! sir. | |
| Per. Drew sleep out of mine eyes, blood from my cheeks, | |
| Musings into my mind, with thousand doubts | 105 |
| How I might stop this tempest, ere it came; | |
| And finding little comfort to relieve them, | |
| I thought it princely charity to grieve them. | |
| Hel. Well, my lord, since you have given me leave to speak, | |
| Freely will I speak. Antiochus you fear, | 110 |
| And justly too, I think, you fear the tyrant, | |
| Who either by public war or private treason | |
| Will take away your life. | |
| Therefore, my lord, go travel for a while, | |
| Till that his rage and anger be forgot, | 115 |
| Or till the Destinies do cut his thread of life. | |
| Your rule direct to any; if to me, | |
| Day serves not light more faithful than I’ll be. | |
| Per. I do not doubt thy faith; | |
| But should he wrong my liberties in my absence? | 120 |
| Hel. We’ll mingle our bloods together in the earth, | |
| From whence we had our being and our birth. | |
| Per. Tyre, I now look from thee then, and to Tarsus | |
| Intend my travel, where I’ll hear from thee, | |
| And by whose letters I’ll dispose myself. | 125 |
| The care I had and have of subjects’ good | |
| On thee I’ll lay, whose wisdom’s strength can bear it. | |
| I’ll take thy word for faith, not ask thine oath; | |
| Who shuns not to break one will sure crack both. | |
| But in our orbs we’ll live so round and safe, | 130 |
| That time of both this truth shall ne’er convince, | |
| Thou show’dst a subject’s shine, I a true prince. [Exeunt. | |
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