Ephesus. A Room in CERIMON’S House. | |
| |
Enter CERIMON, a Servant, and some Persons who have been shipwracked. | |
| Cer. Philemon, ho! | |
| |
Enter PHILEMON. | 4 |
| Phil. Doth my lord call? | |
| Cer. Get fire and meat for these poor men; | |
| ’T has been a turbulent and stormy night. | |
| Ser. I have been in many; but such a night as this | 8 |
| Till now I ne’er endur’d. | |
| Cer. Your master will be dead ere you return; | |
| There’s nothing can be minister’d to nature | |
| That can recover him. [To PHILEMON.] Give this to the ’pothecary, | 12 |
| And tell me how it works. [Exeunt all except CERIMON. | |
| |
Enter two Gentlemen. | |
| First Gent. Good morrow, sir. | |
| Sec. Gent. Good morrow to your lordship. | 16 |
| Cer. Gentlemen, | |
| Why do you stir so early? | |
| First Gent. Sir, | |
| Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea, | 20 |
| Shook as the earth did quake; | |
| The very principals did seem to rend, | |
| And all to topple. Pure surprise and fear | |
| Made me to quit the house. | 24 |
| Sec. Gent. That is the cause we trouble you so early; | |
| ’Tis not our husbandry. | |
| Cer. O! you say well. | |
| First Gent. But I much marvel that your lordship, having | 28 |
| Rich tire about you, should at these early hours | |
| Shake off the golden slumber of repose. | |
| ’Tis most strange, | |
| Nature should be so conversant with pain, | 32 |
| Being thereto not compell’d. | |
| Cer. I hold it ever, | |
| Virtue and cunning were endowments greater | |
| Than nobleness and riches; careless heirs | 36 |
| May the two latter darken and expend, | |
| But immortality attends the former, | |
| Making a man a god. ’Tis known I ever | |
| Have studied physic, through which secret art, | 40 |
| By turning o’er authorities, I have— | |
| Together with my practice—made familiar | |
| To me and to my aid the blest infusions | |
| That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones; | 44 |
| And can speak of the disturbances | |
| That nature works, and of her cures; which doth give me | |
| A more content in course of true delight | |
| Than to be thirsty after tottering honour, | 48 |
| Or tie my treasure up in silken bags, | |
| To please the fool and death. | |
| Sec. Gent. Your honour has through Ephesus pour’d forth | |
| Your charity, and hundreds call themselves | 52 |
| Your creatures, who by you have been restor’d: | |
| And not your knowledge, your personal pain, but even | |
| Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon | |
| Such strong renown as time shall ne’er decay. | 56 |
| |
Enter two Servants, with a chest. | |
| First Serv. So; lift there. | |
| Cer. What is that? | |
| First Serv. Sir, even now | 60 |
| Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest: | |
| ’Tis of some wrack. | |
| Cer. Set it down; let’s look upon ’t. | |
| Sec. Gent. ’Tis like a coffin, sir. | 64 |
| Cer. Whate’er it be, | |
| ’Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight; | |
| If the sea’s stomach be o’ercharg’d with gold, | |
| ’Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us. | 68 |
| Sec. Gent. ’Tis so, my lord. | |
| Cer. How close ’tis caulk’d and bitumed! | |
| Did the sea cast it up? | |
| First Serv. I never saw so huge a billow, sir, | 72 |
| As toss’d it upon shore. | |
| Cer. Come, wrench it open. | |
| Soft! it smells most sweetly in my sense. | |
| Sec. Gent. A delicate odour. | 76 |
| Cer. As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it. | |
| O you most potent gods! what’s here? a corse! | |
| First Gent. Most strange! | |
| Cer. Shrouded in cloth of state; balm’d and entreasur’d | 80 |
| With full bags of spices! A passport too! | |
| Apollo, perfect me i’ the characters! | |
| Here I give to understand, | |
| If e’er this coffin drive a-land, | 84 |
| I, King Pericles, have lost | |
| This queen worth all our mundane cost. | |
| Who finds her, give her burying; | |
| She was the daughter of a king: | 88 |
| Besides this treasure for a fee, | |
| The gods requite his charity! | |
| If thou liv’st, Pericles, thou hast a heart | |
| That even cracks for woe! This chanc’d to-night. | 92 |
| Sec. Gent. Most likely, sir. | |
| Cer. Nay, certainly to-night; | |
| For look, how fresh she looks. They were too rough | |
| That threw her in the sea. Make fire within; | 96 |
| Fetch hither all the boxes in my closet. [Exit Second Servant. | |
| Death may usurp on nature many hours, | |
| And yet the fire of life kindle again | |
| The overpress’d spirits. I heard | 100 |
| Of an Egyptian, that had nine hours lien dead, | |
| Who was by good appliances recovered. | |
| |
Re-enter Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire. | |
| Well said, well said; the fire and cloths. | 104 |
| The rough and woeful music that we have, | |
| Cause it to sound, beseech you. | |
| The viol once more;—how thou stirr’st, thou block! | |
| The music there! I pray you, give her air. | 108 |
| Gentlemen, | |
| This queen will live; nature awakes, a warmth | |
| Breathes out of her; she hath not been entranc’d | |
| Above five hours. See! how she ’gins to blow | 112 |
| Into life’s flower again. | |
| First Gent. The heavens | |
| Through you increase our wonder and set up | |
| Your fame for ever. | 116 |
| Cer. She is alive! behold, | |
| Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels | |
| Which Pericles hath lost, | |
| Begin to part their fringes of bright gold; | 120 |
| The diamonds of a most praised water | |
| Do appear, to make the world twice rich. Live, | |
| And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature, | |
| Rare as you seem to be! [She moves. | 124 |
| Thai. O dear Diana! | |
| Where am I? Where’s my lord? What world is this? | |
| Sec. Gent. Is not this strange? | |
| First Gent. Most rare. | 128 |
| Cer. Hush, gentle neighbours! | |
| Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her. | |
| Get linen; now this matter must be look’d to, | |
| For her relapse is mortal. Come, come; | 132 |
| And Æsculapius guide us! [Exeunt, carrying THAISA away. | |
