ABSTRACT

Which request of hers, when the king her father had thus understood of, hee beganne first to examine with him selfe, what vertue was in this choice, that should bind her thoughts to this liking, and what succeeding comfort hee might expect, the expectation of which, might invite him to his consent. First hee beganne to remember himselfe, that he came unto his Court but poore, and for poverty, quoth the good king, tis a woorkemanship, that Nature makes uppe even for others to contemne, and, which in these times, is growne odious to keepe companie withall, that to marrie her which was his onely childe, and the expectation of his subjectes, with one of so lowe blood and meane discent, would returne rather a dishonour than a dignitie to his name, since Parents rather expect the advauncement of Titles, and the raising of their houses, in the uniting of their issue, than the declining: but in the end, when hee had put all the Interjections he could between her love and his liking, his uprightnesse made him see, that in vertue consisted mans onely perfection, and in him, as her befitting Court, she thought it fittest to keepe her royall residence, and in that opinion allowing of his daughters choice, hee thought himselfe happy to live Father to such a vertuous sonne, and his daughter more happy to be coupled to so noble a husband.2 And as hee was now thus contracting them together in his rejoycing thoughts, even in the instant came in Pericles, to give his Grace that salutation which the morning required of him, when the king intending to dissemble that in shew, which hee had determined on in heart,3 hee first tolde him, that his daughter had that morning sent unto him that Letter, wherein shee intreated of him, that his Grace would be pleased, that himselfe (whom shee knew to call by no other name but the Stranger Pericles) might become her Schoolemaister, of whose rariety in musicke, excellencie in song, with comelinesse in dauncing, not onely shee had heard, but himselfe had borne testimonie to be the best, that ever their judgements had

had cause to judge of. When Pericles, though willing to yeelde any courtesies to so gratious a Lady, and not disdaining to be commaunded any services by so good a Lord, yet replyed, Though all his abilities were at his Graces pleasure, yet he thought himselfe unwoorthy to be his daughters schoolemaister 1: I but quoth Symonides, shee will not be denied to be your Scholler, and for manifest proofe thereof heere is her owne Character, which to that purpose shee hath sent unto us, and we to that purpose give you leave to reade: which Pericles overlooking, and finding the whole tenour thereof to be, that his daughter from all the other Princes, nay from the whole worlde, sollicited him for her husband, he straitway rather conjectured it to be some subtiltie of the father to betray his life,2 than any constancy of the princesse to love him: and foorthwith prostrating himselfe at the kings feete, hee desired that his Grace would no way seeke to staine the noblenesse of his minde, by any way seeking to intrappe the life of so harmelesse a Gentleman,3 or that with evill he would conclude so much good which he already had begunne toward him, protesting, that for his part, his thoughts had never that ambition, so much as to ayme at the love of his daughter, nor any action of his, gave cause of his princely displesure4 : but the king faining still an angry brow, turned toward him, and tolde him, that like a traitour, hee lyed.5 Tray tour, quoth Pericles? I, tray tour, quoth the king, that thus disguised, art stolne into my Court, with the witchcraft6 of thy actions to bewitch the yeelding spirit of my tender Childe. Which name of Tray tor being againe redoubled, Pericles then, insteade of humblenesse seemed not to forget his auntient courage, but boldely replyed, That were it any in his Court, except himselfe, durst call him tray tor, even in his bosome he would write the lie: affirming, that he came into his Court in search of honour, and not to be a rebell to his State, his bloud was yet untainted, but with the heate, got by the wrong the king had offered him, and that he boldly durst, and did defie, himselfe, his subjectes, and the prowdest danger, that eyther tyranny or treason could inflict upon him.7 Which noblenesse of his, the king inwardly commending, though otherwise dissembling, he answered, he should proove it otherwise, since by his daughters hand, it there was evident, both his practise and her consent therein. Which wordes were no sooner uttered, but Thaysa (who ever since she sent her Father her Letter, could not containe her selfe in any quiet, till she heard of his answer) came now in, as it had beene her parte, to make aunswere to her Fathers last sillable, when prince

5 Pericles yeelding his body toward her, in most curteous manner demaunded of her by the hope she had of heaven, or the desire she had to have her best wishes fulfilled heere in the worlde, that shee would now satisfie, her now displeased Father, if ever he, by motion, or by letters, by amorous glaunces, or by any meanes that Lovers use to compasse their disseignes, had sought to be a friend in the noblenesse of her thoughts, or a copartner in the worthinesse of her love, when she as constant to finish, as she was forward to attempt, againe required of him, that suppose he had, who durst take offence thereat, since that it was her pleasure to give him to knowe that he had power to desire no more than she had willingnesse to performe?l How minion, quoth her Father (taking her off at the very word, who dare be displeased withall?) Is this a fit match for you? a stragling Theseus borne we knowe not where, one that hath neither bloud nor merite for thee to hope for, or himselfe to challenge even the least allowaunce of thy perfections, when she humbling her princely knees before her Father, besought him to consider, that suppose hi3 birth were base (when his life shewed him not to be so) yet hee had vertue, which is the very ground of all nobilitie, enough to make him noble: she intreated him to remember that she was in love, the power of which love was not to be confined by the power of his will. And my most royall Father, quoth shee, what with my penne I have in secret written unto you, with my tongue now I openly confirme, which is, that I have no life but in his love, neither any being but in the enjoying of his worth. But daughter (quoth Symonides) equalles to equalls, good to good is joyned, this not being so, the bavine of your minde in rashnesse kindled, must againe be quenched, or purchase our displeasure. And for you sir (speaking to prince Pericles) first learne to know, I banish you my Court, and yet scorning that our kingly inragement should stoope so lowe, for that your ambition sir, lIe have your life. Be constant, quoth Thaysa, for everie droppe of blood hee sheades of yours, he shall draw an other from his onely childe. In briefe, the king continued still his rage, the Lady her constancie, while Pericles stoode amazed at both, till at last the Father being no longer able to subdue that which he desired as much as shee, catching them both rashly by the handes, as if hee meant strait to have inforced them to imprisonment, he clapt them hand in hand, while they as lovingly joyned lip to lip, and with tears trickling from his aged eyes, adopted him his happy sonne, and bade them live together as man and wife.2 What joy there was at this coupling, those that are Lovers and enjoy their wishes, can better

conceive, than my pen can set downe; the one rejoycing to be made happy by so good and gentle a Lord, the other as happy to be inriched by so vertuous a Lady. What preparation there was for their marriage, is sufficiently expressed in this, that she was the onely daughter to a king, and had her fathers liking in her love: what speede there was to that marriage, let those judge who have the thoughtes of Thaysa at this instant, only conceive the solempnities at the Temple are doone, the feast in most solempne order finished, the day spent in musicke, dauncing, singing, and all Courtly communication, halfe of the night in maskes and other courtly shewes, and the other halfe in the happy and lawfull imbracements of these most happy Lovers. The discourse at large of the liberall Chalenges made and proclaimed, at Tilt, Barriers, running at the Ring, ioco di can, mannaging fierce horses, running on foote, and dauncing in armours, of the stately presented Playes, Shewes disguised, Speeches, Maskes and Mummeries, with continuall harmony of all kindes of Musicke, with banquetting in all delicacie, I leave to the consideration of them who have behelde the like in Courtes, and at the wedding of princes,l rather than afford them to the description of my penne, only let such conceive, all things in due order were accomplished, the dueties of marriage performed: and faire Thaysa this night is conceived with child. 2

The next day Joy dwelling thorow the whole kingdom for this conjunction, every man arose to feasting and jollity, for the wedding triumphs continued a whole moneth, while Time with his feathered wings, so fanned away the houres, and with his slippery feete, so glided over the dayes, that nine Moones had almost chaunged their light, ere halfe the time was thought to be expired,3 when it happened, that as the good Symonides and princely Pericles with his faire Thaysa were walking in the garden adjoyning to their pallace, one of the Lords, who (as before) were sent by grave and carefull Helycanus, in search of their absent Prince, came hastily in to them, who uppon his knee delivered unto the yoong Prince a Letter, which being opened the contents therein spake thus unto him: That Antiochus and his daughter (as is before described) were with the violence of lightning (shot from heaven,) strucke sodainely dead. And moreover, that by the consent of the generall voyces the Cittie of Antioch, with all the riches therein, and the whole kingdome were reserved for his possession and princely government.4 Which Letter when he had read, he presently imparted the news thereof to his kingly Father, who uppon view received, hee strait knew (what

2 III Chor., 9-11. , III Chor., 21-39.