Cle. This Tharsus, o'er which I have govern

ment,

(A city, on whom plenty held full hand,)

For riches, strew'd herself even in the streets; Whose towers bore heads so high, they kiss'd the clouds,

And strangers ne'er beheld, but wonder'd at;
Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn'd,
Like one another's glass to trim them by:
Their tables were stor'd full, to glad the sight,
And not so much to feed on, as delight;
All poverty was scorn'd, and pride so great,
The name of help grew odious to repeat.

Dio. O, 'tis too true.

Cle. But see what heaven can do! By this our change,

These mouths, whom but of late, earth, sea, and

air,

Were all too little to content and please,

Although they gave their creatures in abundance,
As houses are defil'd for want of use;

They are now starv'd for want of exercise:
Those palates, who not yet two summers younger,
Must have inventions to delight the taste,
Would now be glad of bread, and beg for it;
Those mothers who, to nousle up their babes,
Thought nought too curious, are ready now,
To eat those little darlings whom they lov'd.
So sharp are hunger's teeth, that man and wife
Draw lots, who first shall die to lengthen life:
Here stands a lord, and there a lady weeping;
Here many sink, yet those which see them fall,

с

Have scarce strength left to give them burial.
Is not this true?

Dio. Our cheeks and hollow eyes do witness it. Cle. O, let those cities, that of Plenty's cup And her prosperities so largely taste,

With their superfluous riots, hear these tears!
The misery of Tharsus may be theirs.

Enter a Lord.

Lord. Where's the lord governor?

Cle. Here.

Speak out thy sorrows which thou bring'st, in haste,

For comfort is too far for us to expect.

Lord. We have descried, upon our neighbouring shore,

A portly sail of ships make hitherward.

Cle. I thought as much.

One sorrow never comes, but brings an heir,
That may succeed as his inheritor;

And so in our's: some neighbouring nation,
Taking advantage of our misery,

Hath stuff'd these hollow vessels with their

power, To beat us down, the which are down already; And make a conquest of unhappy me, Whereas no glory's got to overcome.

Lord. That's the least fear; for, by the semblance Of their white flags display'd, they bring us peace, And come to us as favourers, not as foes.

Cle. Thou speak'st like him's untutor'd to repeat, Who makes the fairest show, means most deceit. But bring they what they will, what need we fear?

The ground's the low'st, and we are half way there. Go tell their general, we attend him here,

To know for what he comes, and whence he comes,

And what he craves.

Lord. I go, my lord.

[Exit.

Cle. Welcome is peace, if he on peace consist; If wars, we are unable to resist.

Enter Pericles, with Attendants.

Per. Lord governor, for so we hear you are, Let not our ships and number of our men, Be, like a beacon fir'd, to amaze your eyes. We have heard your miseries as far as Tyre, And seen the desolation of your streets: Nor come we to add sorrow to your tears, But to relieve them of their heavy load; And these our ships you happily may think Are, like the Trojan horse, war-stuff'd within, With bloody views, expecting overthrow, Are stor❜d with corn, to make your needy bread, And give them life, who are hunger-starv'd, half

dead.

All. The gods of Greece protect you!

And we'll pray for you.

Per.

Rise, I pray you, rise;

We do not look for reverence, but for love,

And harbourage for ourself, our ships, and men.
Cle. 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.

Per. Which welcome we'll accept; feast here a

while,

Until our stars that frown, lend us a smile.

ACT II.

Enter Gower.

Gow, Here have you seen a mighty king

His child, I wis, to incest bring;
A better prince, and benign lord,
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 benizon,)
Is still at Tharsus, where each man
Thinks all is writ he spoken can:
And, to remember what he does,

Gild his statue 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; then gives the Messenger a re