Cordelia

Next scene

SCENE I. King Lear's palace.

Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND

KENT

I thought the king had more affected the Duke of
Albany than Cornwall.

GLOUCESTER

It did always seem so to us: but now, in the
division of the kingdom, it appears not which of
the dukes he values most; for equalities are so
weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice
of either's moiety.

KENT

Is not this your son, my lord?

GLOUCESTER

His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have
so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am
brazed to it.

KENT

I cannot conceive you.

GLOUCESTER

Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon
she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son
for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed.
Do you smell a fault?

KENT

I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it
being so proper.

GLOUCESTER

But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year
elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account:
though this knave came something saucily into the
world before he was sent for, yet was his mother
fair; there was good sport at his making, and the
whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this
noble gentleman, Edmund?

EDMUND

No, my lord.

GLOUCESTER

My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my
honourable friend.

EDMUND

My services to your lordship.

KENT

I must love you, and sue to know you better.

EDMUND

Sir, I shall study deserving.

GLOUCESTER

He hath been out nine years, and away he shall
again. The king is coming.

Sennet. Enter KING LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants

KING LEAR

Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester.

GLOUCESTER

I shall, my liege.

Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND

KING LEAR

Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.
Give me the map there. Know that we have divided
In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent
To shake all cares and business from our age;
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,
And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
We have this hour a constant will to publish
Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife
May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,
Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love,
Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,
And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters,--
Since now we will divest us both of rule,
Interest of territory, cares of state,--
Which of you shall we say doth love us most?
That we our largest bounty may extend
Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril,
Our eldest-born, speak first.

GONERIL

Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter;
Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty;
Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare;
No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour;
As much as child e'er loved, or father found;
A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable;
Beyond all manner of so much I love you.

CORDELIA

[Aside] What shall Cordelia do?
Love, and be silent.

LEAR

Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd,
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
We make thee lady: to thine and Albany's issue
Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter,
Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak.

REGAN

Sir, I am made
Of the self-same metal that my sister is,
And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
I find she names my very deed of love;
Only she comes too short: that I profess
Myself an enemy to all other joys,
Which the most precious square of sense possesses;
And find I am alone felicitate
In your dear highness' love.

CORDELIA

[Aside] Then poor Cordelia!
And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's
More richer than my tongue.

KING LEAR

To thee and thine hereditary ever
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom;
No less in space, validity, and pleasure,
Than that conferr'd on Goneril. Now, our joy,
Although the last, not least; to whose young love
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw
A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.

CORDELIA

Nothing, my lord.

KING LEAR

Nothing!

CORDELIA

Nothing.

KING LEAR

Nothing will come of nothing: speak again.

CORDELIA

Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty
According to my bond; nor more nor less.

KING LEAR

How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little,
Lest it may mar your fortunes.

CORDELIA

Good my lord,
You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I
Return those duties back as are right fit,
Obey you, love you, and most honour you.
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say
They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed,
That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care and duty:
Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters,
To love my father all.

KING LEAR

But goes thy heart with this?

CORDELIA

Ay, good my lord.

KING LEAR

So young, and so untender?

CORDELIA

So young, my lord, and true.

KING LEAR

Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower:
For, by the sacred radiance of the sun,
The mysteries of Hecate, and the night;
By all the operation of the orbs
From whom we do exist, and cease to be;
Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
Propinquity and property of blood,
And as a stranger to my heart and me
Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation messes
To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved,
As thou my sometime daughter.

KENT

Good my liege,--

KING LEAR

Peace, Kent!
Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
I loved her most, and thought to set my rest
On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight!
So be my grave my peace, as here I give
Her father's heart from her! Call France; who stirs?
Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany,
With my two daughters' dowers digest this third:
Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.
I do invest you jointly with my power,
Pre-eminence, and all the large effects
That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course,
With reservation of an hundred knights,
By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode
Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain
The name, and all the additions to a king;
The sway, revenue, execution of the rest,
Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm,
This coronet part betwixt you.

Giving the crown

KENT

Royal Lear,
Whom I have ever honour'd as my king,
Loved as my father, as my master follow'd,
As my great patron thought on in my prayers,--

KING LEAR

The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft.

KENT

Let it fall rather, though the fork invade
The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly,
When Lear is mad. What wilt thou do, old man?
Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak,
When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound,
When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom;
And, in thy best consideration, cheque
This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment,
Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least;
Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound
Reverbs no hollowness.

KING LEAR

Kent, on thy life, no more.

KENT

My life I never held but as a pawn
To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it,
Thy safety being the motive.

KING LEAR

Out of my sight!

KENT

See better, Lear; and let me still remain
The true blank of thine eye.

KING LEAR

Now, by Apollo,--

KENT

Now, by Apollo, king,
Thou swear'st thy gods in vain.

KING LEAR

O, vassal! miscreant!

Laying his hand on his sword

ALBANY CORNWALL

Dear sir, forbear.

KENT

Do:
Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow
Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom;
Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat,
I'll tell thee thou dost evil.

KING LEAR

Hear me, recreant!
On thine allegiance, hear me!
Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow,
Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd pride
To come between our sentence and our power,
Which nor our nature nor our place can bear,
Our potency made good, take thy reward.
Five days we do allot thee, for provision
To shield thee from diseases of the world;
And on the sixth to turn thy hated back
Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following,
Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions,
The moment is thy death. Away! by Jupiter,
This shall not be revoked.

KENT

Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear,
Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here.

To CORDELIA

The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid,
That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said!

To REGAN and GONERIL

And your large speeches may your deeds approve,
That good effects may spring from words of love.
Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu;
He'll shape his old course in a country new.

Exit

Flourish. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and Attendants

GLOUCESTER

Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord.

KING LEAR

My lord of Burgundy.
We first address towards you, who with this king
Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least,
Will you require in present dower with her,
Or cease your quest of love?

BURGUNDY

Most royal majesty,
I crave no more than what your highness offer'd,
Nor will you tender less.

KING LEAR

Right noble Burgundy,
When she was dear to us, we did hold her so;
But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands:
If aught within that little seeming substance,
Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced,
And nothing more, may fitly like your grace,
She's there, and she is yours.

BURGUNDY

I know no answer.

KING LEAR

Will you, with those infirmities she owes,
Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate,
Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath,
Take her, or leave her?

BURGUNDY

Pardon me, royal sir;
Election makes not up on such conditions.

KING LEAR

Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me,
I tell you all her wealth.

To KING OF FRANCE

For you, great king,
I would not from your love make such a stray,
To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you
To avert your liking a more worthier way
Than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed
Almost to acknowledge hers.

KING OF FRANCE

This is most strange,
That she, that even but now was your best object,
The argument of your praise, balm of your age,
Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time
Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle
So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence
Must be of such unnatural degree,
That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection
Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her,
Must be a faith that reason without miracle
Could never plant in me.

CORDELIA

I yet beseech your majesty,--
If for I want that glib and oily art,
To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend,
I'll do't before I speak,--that you make known
It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness,
No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step,
That hath deprived me of your grace and favour;
But even for want of that for which I am richer,
A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue
As I am glad I have not, though not to have it
Hath lost me in your liking.

KING LEAR

Better thou
Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better.

KING OF FRANCE

Is it but this,--a tardiness in nature
Which often leaves the history unspoke
That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy,
What say you to the lady? Love's not love
When it is mingled with regards that stand
Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her?
She is herself a dowry.

BURGUNDY

Royal Lear,
Give but that portion which yourself proposed,
And here I take Cordelia by the hand,
Duchess of Burgundy.

KING LEAR

Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm.

BURGUNDY

I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father
That you must lose a husband.

CORDELIA

Peace be with Burgundy!
Since that respects of fortune are his love,
I shall not be his wife.

KING OF FRANCE

Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor;
Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised!
Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon:
Be it lawful I take up what's cast away.
Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect
My love should kindle to inflamed respect.
Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance,
Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France:
Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy
Can buy this unprized precious maid of me.
Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind:
Thou losest here, a better where to find.

KING LEAR

Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we
Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see
That face of hers again. Therefore be gone
Without our grace, our love, our benison.
Come, noble Burgundy.

Flourish. Exeunt all but KING OF FRANCE, GONERIL, REGAN, and CORDELIA

KING OF FRANCE

Bid farewell to your sisters.

CORDELIA

The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes
Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are;
And like a sister am most loath to call
Your faults as they are named. Use well our father:
To your professed bosoms I commit him
But yet, alas, stood I within his grace,
I would prefer him to a better place.
So, farewell to you both.

REGAN

Prescribe not us our duties.

GONERIL

Let your study
Be to content your lord, who hath received you
At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted,
And well are worth the want that you have wanted.

CORDELIA

Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides:
Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
Well may you prosper!

KING OF FRANCE

Come, my fair Cordelia.

Exeunt KING OF FRANCE and CORDELIA

GONERIL

Sister, it is not a little I have to say of what
most nearly appertains to us both. I think our
father will hence to-night.

REGAN

That's most certain, and with you; next month with us.

GONERIL

You see how full of changes his age is; the
observation we have made of it hath not been
little: he always loved our sister most; and
with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off
appears too grossly.

REGAN

'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever
but slenderly known himself.

GONERIL

The best and soundest of his time hath been but
rash; then must we look to receive from his age,
not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed
condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness
that infirm and choleric years bring with them.

REGAN

Such unconstant starts are we like to have from
him as this of Kent's banishment.

GONERIL

There is further compliment of leavetaking
between France and him. Pray you, let's hit
together: if our father carry authority with
such dispositions as he bears, this last
surrender of his will but offend us.

REGAN

We shall further think on't.

GONERIL

We must do something, and i' the heat.

Exeunt

Shakespeare homepage | King Lear | Act 1, Scene 1  Next scene

The Crusader and The Knave

CHAOS + DISORDER

SOLVE ET COAGULAR

Through him [Melko] has pain and misery been made in the clash of overwhelming musics; and with confusion of sound have cruelty, and ravening, and darknes, loathly mire and all putrescence of thought and thing, foul mists and violent flame, cold without mercy, been born, and death without hope. Yet is this through him an not by him; and he shall see, and ye all likewise, and even shall those beings, who must now dwell among his evil and endure through Melko misery and sorrow, terror and wickedness, declare in the end that it redoundeth only to my great glory, and doth but make the theme more worth the hearing, Life more worth the living, and the World so much the more wonderful and marvellous, that of all the deeds of Iluvatar it shall be alled his mightiest and is loveliest. 

(p.55, emphasis mine)

Batman's entire existence, Bruce Wayne's whole life is predicated upon the absolute and strict (delusional) adhearance to his OWN Code of Law - The Law in Gotham ("The System") does not function, and so he defines his own law, applies it, and uses the application of his Law to bring Outlaws Within The System.

He sees himself as a necessary and essential bridging function between the limits and the shortcomings, and the weakness born of corruption of The Law of The System, and he sees him Self and defines his boundaries and moral code as existing only in the space between Expectation and Results.

He's like Captain Picard - he orientates his personality around a fixed point, marking a boundary beyond which (he tells himself) he may never cross and still be True to his cause and his Mission and not stray into the very realm of corruption that forced the need for his existence in the first place - 

The Line in the Sand, 

THIS Far, and No Further.

Beyond that Line, I stop being me, and this stops being what I was put here on this Earth to do.

And he BELIEVES THAT..!!! 

That's hilarious..!!!

How many times in the average week, in the course of his nightly assaults, does he beat a man half to death without so much as a second thought, and leave them bleeding and broken in a filthy alleyway, propped up against a grimy, piss-reek wall, WITHOUT calling them an ambulance...? Three, four time per week...? At the minimum, I would say.

Now - on an average spread of probable outcomes, all else being equal, how many times in a row, consecutively, would you have to beat a man half to death and leave him lying in a gutter without receiving any first aid or medical attention of any kind before one of them develops complications, or bleeds out internally, or suffers a fatal brain haemorrhage as a direct consequence of the sound beating he just took...?

I would guesstimate two or three at the very most.

And Batman, is the one that they say is the SANE one...?!

SARAH: 

What are you waiting for? 

Tom : 

Just touch these two strands together 

and The Daleks are finished. 

Have I that right? 

SARAH: 

To destroy the Daleks?

 You can't doubt it. 

Tom : 

Well, I do. 

You see, some things 

could be better with The Daleks. 

Many future worlds will 

become allies just because of 

their fear of the Daleks. 

SARAH: 

But it isn't like that...!

Tom : 

But The Final Responsibility is mine - and mine alone. 

Listen, if someone who knew The Future 

pointed out a child to you 

and told you that that child would grow up totally evil, 

to be a ruthless dictator 

who would destroy millions of lives - 

could you then kill that child..? 

SARAH: 

...we're talking about The Daleks, 

the most evil creatures ever invented. 

You must Destroy Them. 

You must complete Your Mission 

for The Time Lords. 

Tom : 

Do I Have The Right? 

Simply touch one wire 

against the other and that's it. 

The Daleks cease to exist. 

Hundreds of millions of people, 

thousands of generations 

can live without fear, in peace, 

and never even know the word 

'Dalek'. 

SARAH: 

Then why wait? 

If it was a disease or some sort of bacteria 

you were destroying, you wouldn't hesitate. 

DOCTOR: 

But if I kill, wipe out a whole intelligent lifeform - 

then I become Like Them. 

I'd be no better than the Daleks. 

SARAH: 

Think of all the suffering there'll be 

if you don't do it. 

GHARMAN: 

Doctor! Doctor, I've been looking everywhere for you. 

Davros has agreed to our terms. 

HARRY: 

He submitted? 

GHARMAN: 

He did, but he asked only one thing —

That he might be allowed to address 

a meeting of all The Elite, 

Scientific and Military. 

DOCTOR: 

He's going to put a case?

GHARMAN: 

Yes, but a vote will be taken. 

It's a foregone conclusion. 

There'll be a complete landslide 

against any further development of the Daleks. 

We've won. 

DOCTOR: 

I'm grateful to you, Gharman. 

More grateful than I can tell you...

******

SARAH: 

You don't seem too disappointed - 

We've failed, haven't we? 

DOCTOR :

Failed? No, not really —

You see, I know that although the Daleks will create havoc and destruction for millions of years, 

I know also that out of their Evil 

must come Something Good.

It is a MINOR Work.

 TRANSLATION : 

"This isn't Real, This is a Fake, It's Inferior, This is Bowlderised, Bastardised and Diluted, This is a Minor Work of No Importance, Don't Waste Your Time with This One, I Wouldn't Bother, Not Worth the Trouble, Seriously Don't Read This, Nothing to See Here, Move Along Home Now, Move Along, Nothing to See Here, It's  Disappointing, Embarassing, Confusing and its a Failure."

This one appears to be about Raleigh, Bess Hardwicke (Tudor), and the Red-Headed Princeling;

As well as Henry VIII, his wives and daughters, both 

Recognised and Unrecognised, 

Legitimate and Illegitimate, 

Figures at the Court of Elizabeth I and  Hidden Aristocratic Changelings Placed into Families Amongst the Great Noble Houses of England :

A Who's Who Cast of Characters of the Shakespearean Histories :

The Grays

The Stanleys

The Boleyns

The Seymours

The Spencers

The Wroisolys

and now The Cecils

and of course

The De Veres

Great King,
Few love to hear the sins they love to act;
'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.
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 other's eyes, to spread itself;
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
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,
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.

"The King of England is a Venetian Doge"

- Benjamin Disreali

Conningsby

Machiavelli wrote that the Venetians had “fixed in their souls the intention of creating a monarchy on the Roman model.” This is corroborated by a dispatch of the ambassador of Louis XII of France at the court of the Emperor Maximilian I some years later, which described the Venetians as:

“traders in human blood, traitors to the Christian faith who have tacitly divided up the world with the Turks, and who are already planning to throw bridgeheads across the Danube, the Rhine, the Seine, and Tagus, and the Ebro, attempting to reduce Europe to a province and to keep it subjugated to their armies.”

These megalomaniac plans of the Venetians were no secret. In 1423, the Doge Tommaso Mocenigo had urged upon his fellow oligarchs a policy of expansionism which would make them the overlords “of all the Gold and of Christendom.”

The most penetrating indictments of the Venetians during this period were issued by Pope Pius II Piccolomino, who tried in vain to force Venice into joining a crusade against the Turks. A Venetian saying of this period was Prima son Vinizian, poi son Cristian. (I am a Venetian first, then a Christian.”) 

In his Commentaries, Pope Pius II excoriates the Venetians for their duplicitous treachery, and establishes the fact that they are a pagan, totalitarian state. The Venetians, he says, have acted in their diplomacy:

“with the good faith characteristics of barbarians, or after the manner of traders whose nature it is to weigh everything by utility, paying no attention to honor. 

But what do fish care about Law? 

As among the brute beasts aquatic creatures have the least intelligence, so among human beings the Venetians are the least just and the least capable of humanity, and naturally so, for they live on the sea and pass their lives in the water; they use ships instead of horses; they are not so much companions of men as of fish and comrades of marine monsters. 

They please only themselves, and while they talk they listen to and admire themselves…. 

They are hypocrites. They wish to appear as Christians before the world, but in reality they never think of God and, except for the state, which they regard as a deity, they hold nothing sacred, nothing holy. 

To a Venetian, that is just which is for the good of The State; that is pious which increases The Empire…. What The Senate approves is holy even though it is opposed to the gospel…. 

They are allowed to do anything that will bring them to supreme Power. 

All Law and Right may be violated for the sake of Power.”

During many of these years Venetians were in a tacit alliance with the Turks. When, for example, a revolt against Venetian rule in Albania was started, threatening the Venetian naval base at Durazzo, the Venetians made a deal with the Turks to crush the revolt. On one occasion Pius II received the Venetian ambassador to the Roman court and condemned Venetian policy with these words:

“Your cause is one with thieves and robbers…. No power was ever greater than the Roman empire and yet God overthrew it because it was impious, and He put in its place the priesthood because it respected divine law…. 

You think [your] republic will last forever. It will not last long. Your population so wickedly gathered together will soon be scattered abroad. 

The offscourings of fishermen will be exterminated. 

A mad state cannot long stand.”

SCENE I. Pentapolis. An open place by the sea-side.

Enter PERICLES, wet

PERICLES

Yet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!

Wind, rain, and thunder, remember, earthly man

Is but a substance that must yield to you;

And I, as fits my nature, do obey you:

Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks,

Wash'd me from shore to shore, and left me breath

Nothing to think on but ensuing death:

Let it suffice the greatness of your powers

To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes;

And having thrown him from your watery grave,

Here to have death in peace is all he'll crave.

Enter three FISHERMEN

First Fisherman

What, ho, Pilch!

Second Fisherman

Ha, come and bring away the nets!

First Fisherman

What, Patch-breech, I say!

Third Fisherman

What say you, master?

First Fisherman

Look how thou stirrest now! come away, or I'll

fetch thee with a wanion.

Third Fisherman

Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that

were cast away before us even now.

First Fisherman

Alas, poor souls, it grieved my heart to hear what

pitiful cries they made to us to help them, when,

well-a-day, we could scarce help ourselves.

Third Fisherman

Nay, master, said not I as much when I saw the

porpus how he bounced and tumbled? They say

they're half fish, half flesh: a plague on them,

they ne'er come but I look to be washed. Master, I

marvel how the fishes live in the sea.

First Fisherman

Why, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the

little ones: I can compare our rich misers to

nothing so fitly as to a whale; a' plays and

tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at

last devours them all at a mouthful: such whales

have I heard on o' the land, who never leave gaping

till they've swallowed the whole parish, church,

steeple, bells, and all.

PERICLES

[Aside] A pretty moral.

Third Fisherman

But, master, if I had been the sexton, I would have

been that day in the belfry.

Second Fisherman

Why, man?

Third Fisherman

Because he should have swallowed me too: and when I

had been in his belly, I would have kept such a

jangling of the bells, that he should never have

left, till he cast bells, steeple, church, and

parish up again. But if the good King Simonides

were of my mind,--

PERICLES

[Aside] Simonides!

Third Fisherman

We would purge the land of these drones, that rob

the bee of her honey.

PERICLES

[Aside] How from the finny subject of the sea

These fishers tell the infirmities of men;

And from their watery empire recollect

All that may men approve or men detect!

Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.

Second Fisherman

Honest! good fellow, what's that? If it be a day

fits you, search out of the calendar, and nobody

look after it.

PERICLES

May see the sea hath cast upon your coast.

Second Fisherman

What a drunken knave was the sea to cast thee in our

way!

PERICLES

A man whom both the waters and the wind,

In that vast tennis-court, have made the ball

For them to play upon, entreats you pity him:

He asks of you, that never used to beg.

First Fisherman

No, friend, cannot you beg? Here's them in our

country Greece gets more with begging than we can do

with working.

Second Fisherman

Canst thou catch any fishes, then?

PERICLES

I never practised it.

Second Fisherman

Nay, then thou wilt starve, sure; for here's nothing

to be got now-a-days, unless thou canst fish for't.

PERICLES

What I have been I have forgot to know;

But what I am, want teaches me to think on:

A man throng'd up with cold: my veins are chill,

And have no more of life than may suffice

To give my tongue that heat to ask your help;

Which if you shall refuse, when I am dead,

For that I am a man, pray see me buried.

First Fisherman

Die quoth-a? Now gods forbid! I have a gown here;

come, put it on; keep thee warm. Now, afore me, a

handsome fellow! Come, thou shalt go home, and

we'll have flesh for holidays, fish for

fasting-days, and moreo'er puddings and flap-jacks,

and thou shalt be welcome.

PERICLES

I thank you, sir.

Second Fisherman

Hark you, my friend; you said you could not beg.

PERICLES

I did but crave.

Second Fisherman

But crave! Then I'll turn craver too, and so I

shall 'scape whipping.

PERICLES

Why, are all your beggars whipped, then?

Second Fisherman

O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your

beggars were whipped, I would wish no better office

than to be beadle. But, master, I'll go draw up the

net.

Exit with Third Fisherman

PERICLES

[Aside] How well this honest mirth becomes their labour!

First Fisherman

Hark you, sir, do you know where ye are?

PERICLES

Not well.

First Fisherman

Why, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and

our king the good Simonides.

PERICLES

The good King Simonides, do you call him.

First Fisherman

Ay, sir; and he deserves so to be called for his

peaceable reign and good government.

PERICLES

He is a happy king, since he gains from his subjects

the name of good by his government. How far is his

court distant from this shore?

First Fisherman

Marry, sir, half a day's journey: and I'll tell

you, he hath a fair daughter, and to-morrow is her

birth-day; and there are princes and knights come

from all parts of the world to just and tourney for her love.

PERICLES

Were my fortunes equal to my desires, I could wish

to make one there.

First Fisherman

O, sir, things must be as they may; and what a man

cannot get, he may lawfully deal for--his wife's soul.

Re-enter Second and Third Fishermen, drawing up a net

Second Fisherman

Help, master, help! here's a fish hangs in the net,

like a poor man's right in the law; 'twill hardly

come out. Ha! bots on't, 'tis come at last, and

'tis turned to a rusty armour.

PERICLES

An armour, friends! I pray you, let me see it.

Thanks, fortune, yet, that, after all my crosses,

Thou givest me somewhat to repair myself;

And though it was mine own, part of my heritage,

Which my dead father did bequeath to me.

With this strict charge, even as he left his life,

'Keep it, my Pericles; it hath been a shield

Twixt me and death;'--and pointed to this brace;--

'For that it saved me, keep it; in like necessity--

The which the gods protect thee from!--may

defend thee.'

It kept where I kept, I so dearly loved it;

Till the rough seas, that spare not any man,

Took it in rage, though calm'd have given't again:

I thank thee for't: my shipwreck now's no ill,

Since I have here my father's gift in's will.

First Fisherman

What mean you, sir?

PERICLES

To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of worth,

For it was sometime target to a king;

I know it by this mark. He loved me dearly,

And for his sake I wish the having of it;

And that you'ld guide me to your sovereign's court,

Where with it I may appear a gentleman;

And if that ever my low fortune's better,

I'll pay your bounties; till then rest your debtor.

First Fisherman

Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady?

PERICLES

I'll show the virtue I have borne in arms.

First Fisherman

Why, do 'e take it, and the gods give thee good on't!

Second Fisherman

Ay, but hark you, my friend; 'twas we that made up

this garment through the rough seams of the waters:

there are certain condolements, certain vails. I

hope, sir, if you thrive, you'll remember from

whence you had it.

PERICLES

Believe 't, I will.

By your furtherance I am clothed in steel;

And, spite of all the rapture of the sea,

This jewel holds his building on my arm:

Unto thy value I will mount myself

Upon a courser, whose delightful steps

Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread.

Only, my friend, I yet am unprovided

Of a pair of bases.

Second Fisherman

We'll sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to

make thee a pair; and I'll bring thee to the court myself.

PERICLES

Then honour be but a goal to my will,

This day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill.

Exeunt