ABSTRACT
The Painfull Adventures of Pericles Prince of Tyre 5 I 9 seeme to looke fairely, neyther was there promise of any other alteration, the day looked lovely, and the sea smiled for joy, to have her bosome pressed with these burthens: But nothing in this world that is permanent, Time is the father of Fortune, hee is slippery, and then of necessitie must his childe be fickle: and this was his alteration, a cloude seemed to arise from forth the south, which being by the Maister and Marriners beheld, they tolde Prince Pericles, that it was messenger of a storme, which was no sooner spoken, but as if the heavens had conspired with the waters, and the windes bin assistant to both, they kept such a blustering, and such an unruely stirre, that none could be heard to speake but themselves, seas of waters were received into their ships while others fought against them to expell them out. Stop 1 the lecage there, cries out one, hale uppe the maine bowlings there calles out another,2 and with their confusion (neither understanding other, since the storme had gotte the maistery) they made such a hideous noyse, that it had had power to have awakened Death, and to have affrighted Patience: nor could it choose then but bring much terror to our sea-sicke Queene, who had beene used to better attendance, than was now offered her by these ill tutored servantes Winde and Water: but they who neither respect birth nor blood, prayers nor threats, time nor occasion, continued still their boysterous havocke. With which stirre (good Lady) her eies and eares, having not till then bin acquainted, she is strucke into such a hasty fright, that welladay she falles in travelI, is delivered of a daughter, and in this childe-birth dies, while her princely husband being above the hatches, is one while praying to heaven for her safe deliverance, an other while suffering for the sorow wherwith he knew his Queene was imburthened, he chid the contrary storme (as if it had been sensible of hearing) to be so unmanerly, in this unfitting season, and when so good a Queene was in labor, to keep such a blustering3 : thus while the good Prince remayned reprooving the one, and pittying the other, up comes Lycorida the Nurse, sent along by good Symonides with his daughter, and into his armes delivers his Sea-borne Babe,4 which he taking to kisse, and pittying it with these words: Poore inch of Nature (quoth he) thou arte as rudely welcome to the worlde, as ever Princesse Babe was, and hast as chiding a nativitie, as fire, ayre, earth, and water can affoord thee,5 when, as ifhe had forgot himselfe, he abruptly breaks out: but say Luorida; how doth my Queene? 0 sir (quoth she) she hath now passed all daungers, and hath given uppe her griefes by ending her life. At which wordes, no tongue is able to expresse the tide of sorrowe that
lout, stop 1608. 4 III.l.14-18.
