Tarsus. A Room in the Governor’s House. | |
| |
Enter CLEON, DIONYZA, and Attendants. | |
| Cle. My Dionyza, shall we rest us here, | |
| And by relating tales of others’ griefs, | 4 |
| See if ’twill teach us to forget our own? | |
| Dio. That were to blow at fire in hope to quench it; | |
| For who digs hills because they do aspire | |
| Throws down one mountain to cast up a higher. | 8 |
| O my distressed lord! even such our griefs are; | |
| Here they’re but felt, and seen with mischief’s eyes, | |
| But like to groves, being topp’d, they higher rise. | |
| Cle. O Dionyza, | 12 |
| Who wanteth food, and will not say he wants it, | |
| Or can conceal his hunger till he famish? | |
| Our tongues and sorrows do sound deep | |
| Our woes into the air; our eyes do weep | 16 |
| Till tongues fetch breath that may proclaim them louder; | |
| That if heaven slumber while their creatures want, | |
| They may awake their helps to comfort them. | |
| I’ll then discourse our woes, felt several years, | 20 |
| And wanting breath to speak help me with tears. | |
| Dio. I’ll do my best, sir. | |
| Cle. This Tarsus, o’er which I have the government, | |
| A city on whom plenty held full hand, | 24 |
| For riches strew’d herself even in the streets; | |
| Whose towers bore heads so high they kiss’d the clouds, | |
| And strangers ne’er beheld but wonder’d at; | |
| Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn’d, | 28 |
| Like one another’s glass to trim them by: | |
| Their tables were stor’d full to glad the sight, | |
| And not so much to feed on as delight; | |
| All poverty was scorn’d, and pride so great, | 32 |
| The name of help grew odious to repeat. | |
| Dio. O! ’tis too true. | |
| Cle. But see what heaven can do! By this our change, | |
| These mouths, whom but of late earth, sea, and air | 36 |
| Were all too little to content and please, | |
| Although they gave their creatures in abundance, | |
| As houses are defil’d for want of use, | |
| They are now starv’d for want of exercise; | 40 |
| Those palates who, not yet two summers younger, | |
| Must have inventions to delight the taste, | |
| Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it; | |
| Those mothers who, to nousle up their babes, | 44 |
| Thought nought too curious, are ready now | |
| To eat those little darlings whom they lov’d. | |
| So sharp are hunger’s teeth, that man and wife | |
| Draw lots who first shall die to lengthen life. | 48 |
| Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping; | |
| Here many sink, yet those which see them fall | |
| Have scarce strength left to give them burial. | |
| Is not this true? | 52 |
| Dio. Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it. | |
| Cle. O! let those cities that of plenty’s cup | |
| And her prosperities so largely taste, | |
| With their superfluous riots, hear these tears: | 56 |
| The misery of Tarsus may be theirs. | |
| |
Enter a Lord. | |
| Lord. Where’s the lord governor? | |
| Cle. Here. | 60 |
| Speak out thy sorrows which thou bring’st in haste, | |
| For comfort is too far for us to expect. | |
| Lord. We have descried, upon our neighbouring shore, | |
| A portly sail of ships make hitherward. | 64 |
| Cle. I thought as much. | |
| One sorrow never comes but brings an heir | |
| That may succeed as his inheritor; | |
| And so in ours. Some neighbouring nation, | 68 |
| Taking advantage of our misery, | |
| Hath stuff’d these hollow vessels with their power, | |
| To beat us down, the which are down already; | |
| And make a conquest of unhappy me, | 72 |
| Whereas no glory’s got to overcome. | |
| Lord. That’s the least fear; for by the semblance | |
| Of their white flags display’d, they bring us peace, | |
| And come to us as favourers, not as foes. | 76 |
| Cle. Thou speak’st like him ’s untutor’d to repeat: | |
| Who makes the fairest show means most deceit. | |
| But bring they what they will and what they can, | |
| What need we fear? | 80 |
| The ground’s the lowest and we are half way there. | |
| Go tell their general we attend him here, | |
| To know for what he comes, and whence he comes, | |
| And what he craves. | 84 |
| Lord. I go, my lord. [Exit. | |
| Cle. Welcome is peace if he on peace consist; | |
| If wars we are unable to resist. | |
| |
Enter PERICLES, with Attendants. | 88 |
| Per. Lord governor, for so we hear you are, | |
| Let not our ships and number of our men, | |
| Be like a beacon fir’d to amaze your eyes. | |
| We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre, | 92 |
| And seen the desolation of your streets: | |
| Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears, | |
| But to relieve them of their heavy load; | |
| And these our ships, you happily may think | 96 |
| Are like the Trojan horse was stuff’d within | |
| With bloody veins, expecting overthrow, | |
| Are stor’d with corn to make your needy bread, | |
| And give them life whom hunger starv’d half dead. | 100 |
| All. The gods of Greece protect you! | |
| And we’ll pray for you. | |
| Per. Arise, I pray you, rise: | |
| We do not look for reverence, but for love, | 104 |
| And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men. | |
| Cle. The which when any shall not gratify, | |
| Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought, | |
| Be it our wives, our children, or ourselves, | 108 |
| The curse of heaven and men succeed their evils! | |
| Till when—the which, I hope, shall ne’er be seen— | |
| Your Grace is welcome to our town and us. | |
| Per. Which welcome we’ll accept; feast here awhile, | 112 |
| Until our stars that frown lend us a smile. [Exeunt. | |
