All
The gods of Greece protect you! And we'll pray for you. PERICLES
Arise, I pray you, rise: We do not look for reverence, but to love, And harbourage for ourself, our ships,
and men. CLEON
The which when any shall not gratify, Or pay you with unthankfulness in thought, Be it our wives, our
children, or ourselves, 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. PERICLES
Which welcome we'll accept; feast here awhile, Until our stars that frown lend us a smile.
Exeunt
Enter GOWER GOWER
Here have you seen a mighty king His child, I wis, to incest bring; A better prince and benign lord, That
will prove awful both in deed and word. Be quiet then as men should be, Till he hath pass'd necessity. I'll
show you those in troubles reign, Losing a mite, a mountain gain. The good in conversation, To whom I
give my benison, Is still at Tarsus, where each man Thinks all is writ he speken can; And, to remember
what he does, Build his statue to make him glorious: But tidings to the contrary Are brought your eyes; what
need speak I?
DUMB SHOW.
Enter at one door PERICLES talking with CLEON; all the train with them. Enter at another door a Gentleman,
with a letter to PERICLES; PERICLES shows the letter to CLEON; gives the Messenger a reward, and
knights him. Exit PERICLES at one door, and CLEON at another
Good Helicane, that stay'd at home, Not to eat honey like a drone From others' labours; for though he strive To
killen bad, keep good alive; And to fulfil his prince' desire, Sends word of all that haps in Tyre: How Thaliard
came full bent with sin And had intent to murder him; And that in Tarsus was not best Longer for him to
make his rest. He, doing so, put forth to seas, Where when men been, there's seldom ease; For now the
wind begins to blow; Thunder above and deeps below Make such unquiet, that the ship Should house him
safe is wreck'd and split; And he, good prince, having all lost, By waves from coast to coast is tost: All
perishen of man, of pelf, Ne aught escapen but himself; Till fortune, tired with doing bad, Threw him ashore,
to give him glad: And here he comes. What shall be next, Pardon old Gower, this longs the text.
Exit
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