* 
 
 
 i-{-\!^ 
 
 , V/ f y 
 
 ^r-'**' 
 
 btij 
 
 4- 
 
 10 
 
 r 
 
 
 
 "^£^. 
 
 **i 
 
 .V. 
 
 .,V f^-.* 
 
 ='%."' 
 
 IM^J 
 
 i^*^»! 
 
 r.^ 
 
 ■v'^T'^i' 
 
 ^SfA 
 
 \^^ 
 
 k'V 
 
 
 s 
 
 
 
 •^ 
 
 If •?^S> 
 
 cy-a 
 
 rf'- 
 
 
 'Jf^-'M 
 
 ^•\ 
 
 'S- 
 
 \jr:^^i 
 
 .*, 
 
 i-»'-^? 
 
 
 
 
 ^^■^ 
 
 \y^%^4\ 
 
 IV^i.-^ 
 
 ^v 
 
 ^5V^ 
 
 iv:^ fiLji '^lU.> 
 
 \''? *."<i^* 
 
 1. 11 ~ 
 
 h 
 
 ■\ 
 
 % 
 
 '"^t 
 
 ^:y <^^ 
 
 i'r^. 
 
 ■v!i 
 
 L<^ 
 
 mm 
 
 %^ 
 
 :^: 
 
 f? 
 
FR 
 
 CORNELL UNr 
 
 ENGLISH 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 
 JAMES MORGAN HART 
 
 PROFESSOR OF ENGUSH 
 
 A.xsis.*^ 
 
^i 
 
 PERICLES PRINCE OF TYRE. 
 
 A NOYEL BY GEORGE WILKINS, 
 PRINTED IN 1608, AND FOUNDED UPON 
 
 SHAKESPEARE'S PLAY. 
 
 EDITED BY , 
 
 PROFESSOU TYCHO MOMMSEN. 
 
 WITH 
 
 A PREFACE 
 
 BY THE EDITOR; 
 
 AND 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION BY 
 
 J. PAYNE COLLIER ESQ. ' 
 
 OLDENBURG: 
 
 REPRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY GERHARD STALLING. 
 1857. 
 
The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 92401 31 26390 
 
PEEICLES PRINCE OF TYEE. 
 
PERICLES PRINCE OF TYRE. 
 
 A NOYEL BY GEORGE WILKINS, 
 PRINTED IN 1608, AND FOUNDED UPON 
 
 SHAKESPEARE'S PLAY. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 PROFESSOR TYCHO MOMMSEN. 
 
 WITH 
 
 A PREFACE 
 
 INCLUDING A BRIEF ACCOUNT OF SOME ORIGINAL 
 SHAKESPEARE-EDITIONS ETC. EXTANT IN GERMANY AND SWITZERLAND, 
 
 AND 
 
 A FEW REMARKS ON THE 
 
 LATIN ROMANCE OF APOLLONIUS KING OF TYRE 
 
 BY THE EDITOR; 
 
 AND 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION BY 
 
 J. PAYNE COLLIER ESQ. 
 
 OLDENBURG: 
 
 REPRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY GERHARD STALLING. 
 1857. 
 
'^■2.57^/3 
 
TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS 
 
 CHAELES ALEXANDER 
 
 GRAND -DUKE OF SAXE- WEIMAR 
 
 THE ILLUSTRIOUS PATRON OF DRAMATIC ART AND POETRY, 
 
 UNDER WHOSE GOVERNMENT AND WITH WHOSE GRACIOUS ASSISTANCE 
 
 THE EDITOR WAS ENABLED TO PROSECUTE 
 
 HIS SHAKESPEARE- STUDIES, 
 
 THIS REPRINT, 
 
 PROBABLY THE FIRST AND LAST OF THE KIND IN GERMANY, 
 
 IS MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, 
 
 WITH permission; 
 
 BY HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS's 
 MOST DEVOTED AND GRATEFUL SERVANT 
 
 TYCnO MOMMSEN. 
 
PREFACE OF THE EDITOR. 
 
 Ihe circumstances, under which the interesting tract 
 contained in this reprint has come to h'ght, are 
 as follows. I had already some years ago received in- 
 telligence that a few old English books of Shakespeare's 
 time were in the pubhc library of Zurich. Dr. J. 
 Horner, the Chief Librarian of the "Stadtbibhothek", 
 had the kindness to transmit them successively to 
 me: amongst them I found also the novel of 
 George Wilkins, and perceiving it to be identical with 
 that mentioned by Mr. CoHier in his Shakespeare, 
 Vol. VIII. p. 267—269., and struck with a great many 
 passages of surprising beauty, besides the fine narrative 
 style of the whole, I had a mind to republish it. But 
 before I set to work, I apphed to my most honoured 
 friend Mr. Colher to tell me whether it had been 
 already reprinted or not: for, many books being only 
 printed for private circulation, a foreigner, although 
 attentive to every thing Shakespearean at home and 
 abroad, may easily be mistaken, as to a novelty of 
 the kind. Mr. Collier was kind enough to inform 
 me, that there was only one perfect copy of it in Eng- 
 land, and that in the possession of a gentleman, who was 
 
 Preface A. 
 
II THE EDITOR'S 
 
 unwilling to allow it to be reprinted. I then thought 
 it my duty to give it instantly to the pubhc, and an 
 intelligent publisher allowing me the immediate use 
 of his printing-office, and afterwards offering to publish 
 the little book, Mr. Collier and myself abandoned the 
 plan, first adopted, of reprinting it at our own expence 
 as a private publication. 
 
 As to the origin of these books and their turning 
 up in Switzerland, Dr. Horner states to me, that they 
 were, nine in number, first bound together in one 
 volume, which had formerly belonged to the Swiss po- 
 et Martin Usteri (b. at Zurich in 174 J, d. there, 
 J 827.), the author of the once most popular Ana- 
 creontic : 
 
 Freut Euch des Lebens, 
 Weil noch das Lampchen gluht; 
 Pfliicket die Rosen, 
 Eh sie verbluht. 
 
 at whose auction Dr. Horner bought them for the 
 "Stadtbibhothek" for the moderate price of six shill- 
 ings. They are: 
 
 1 . A geographical and anthological description 
 of all the Empires etc. of the Globe. 4o. London. 
 1607. 
 
 2. B. lonson: His Volpone etc. 4°. s. 1. Printed 
 for Thomas Thorppe. 1607. 
 
 3. A pleasant conceited comedy, wherein a 
 man may choose a good wife from a bad. 4". 
 Lond. 1608. 
 
 4. The insatiate countesse. A tragedie. 4°. 
 London. 1613. cf. Coll. Hist, of E. D. P. I. 356. 
 
PREFACE. Ill 
 
 5. Ge. Hakewiil. The ancient ecclesiasticall 
 practise of confirmation. 4o. London 1613. 
 
 6. The first and second Part of the trouble- 
 some Raigne of lohn King of England .... 
 Written by W. Sh. 4". Lond. by Valentine 
 Simmes. for lohn Helme . . . . 1611. 
 
 7. Shakespeare's Hamlet. 4°. London. 1611. 
 Smethwicke. 
 
 8. (Shakespeare's) Romeo & Juliet. 4^. Lond. 
 1609. Smethwicke. 
 
 9. (Ge. Wilkins) The Painfull etc. 4«. Lond. 
 1608. 
 
 All these books are well preserved, including the 
 present tract (although a httle worm-eaten in the upper 
 margin, which impairs the head-hne), and the first of 
 them bears the inscription: Ex libris loh. Rodolphi 
 Hessii Tigurini. Constat Londini. 16 . . The last figures 
 were cut off by the binder, on separating and re- 
 binding the pieces, but Dr. Horner remembers the 
 date to have been either 1614 or 1618. This Johann 
 Rudolph Hess (probably the same that was Director 
 of the Arsenal (Zeughaus) and Member of the Great 
 Council) was born in 1588 and died in 1655^ he may, 
 as was customary with young gentlemen in easy cir- 
 cumstances, have gone to England about 1614, to 
 complete his education, and have brought home some 
 of the plays which he saw acted at the London thea- 
 tres, and which he hked best. 
 
 Respecting the importance of the tract, we 
 refer our readers to what Mr. Collier, (to whom 
 we are indebted for the first indication of this 
 
IV THE EDITOR'S 
 
 novel in 1839, as also for its first application to 
 the mutilated drama of Pericles as it has come down 
 to us under the name of Shakespeare), says of it in 
 his Work entitled Shakespeare's Library, 1841 vol, I., 
 in the Preface to Twine's Novel p. II 5 and in his 
 Edition of Shakespeare, vol. VIII. p. 267 — 269. 
 
 The same eminent critic then avails himself, in 
 about a dozen passages, of the important aid the novel 
 affords for the text of the play. We cannot nor will 
 enter into every detail of the question, but will not 
 omit to point out some passages in the beginning of 
 the novel, which have struck us as conveying some 
 explanation of the corresponding ones in the play. 
 
 Act I. Scene I. That the King throws down the 
 Riddle from his throne, and that Pericles stoops to 
 read it, was certainly conformable to the representa- 
 tion of the play at the Globe. 
 
 ibid. The words of the unhappy daughter of 
 Antiochus, as they read in the first edition of 1609 ^ 
 
 ' I avail myself of the Hamburg copy, for the use of which I am 
 indebted to the kindness of Professor Petersen, Director of the Pubhc Li- 
 brary there. I take the opportunity to state that it agrees not with 
 Malone's copy, but with the others. It has, Coll. Sh. Vlil. p. 275. twice 
 sayd (not say" (I) \ 281''. How dares the planets \ 282^ feares \ 
 290^ And hid intent to murder him; \ 3193. Nature awakes a 
 warme breath out of her; \ 323". Etien ripe for mariuge sight: this 
 Maide \ 326*. why doe you weepe alone? \ 347'. with feruor hyes \ . 
 
 This copy of the Pericles, 1609, belongs to a large volume, 
 marked on the back "Anglicana Varia", which besides "Pericles" 
 contains one black-letter tract : 
 
 THE MOST PLESANT HISTORIE OF BLANCHARDINE SONNE etc. 
 
 . .. 1597. (The Name of the translator: Tho. Pope Goodwine 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 the only one that has any claims at all to be consi- 
 dered authentic: 
 
 Of all sayd yet, mayst thou prooue prosperous: 
 
 Of all sayd yet, I wish thee happinesse. 
 which have been altered by several commentators, 
 and most unhappily rendered by Tieck: 
 
 Was du gesagt, sei dir zum Gluck bescheert, 
 Was du gesagt, das wiinseh' ich dir zum Heil. 
 
 suggesting ambiguity in the author, on account of his 
 own uncertainty about the meaning: — these words 
 are, in accordance with the judgment of Mr. Collier, 
 supported as uncorrupted by the words of our novel: 
 
 Gent., is subscribed to the dedicalion; whether the same with 
 Thomas Pope, the celebrated actor, who belonged to Shake- 
 speare's company and headed the list of the Blackfriars players 
 in 1596, I know not. Cf. Coll. Hist, of E. D. P. I, 298. Ill, 433.) 
 and twelve plays by Tho Heywood, Chapman etc. dated all of them 
 between 1606 and 1609, eleven of which are sufficiently known 
 (though probably not very common either), whereas the remaining 
 one (Nr. 11) seems to be hitherto unknown in England: 
 
 THE I TRAGICALL | History of the horrible | Life and death 
 I OF I DOCTOR FAVSTVS. | Written by Ch. Marl. | Imprinted 
 at London by G. E. for loAn \ Wright and are to be sold 
 at I Christ-church gate | 1609. | 
 
 Black letter. 24 leaves; the last being a fly-leaf. The type 
 is the very same with that of "The Painfull Aduentures of 
 Pericles". The copy is quite complete. 
 At least the learned and sagacious Editor of Marlowe (in 1850), 
 the Rev. Alex. Dyce, does not appear to have known of any edition of 
 „Faustus" between 1604 and 1616. cf. Vol. 1. p. XVII. and H. p. 3. 
 87. It is the more curious, as the copies of 1604. and 1616. 
 differ very materially; the Hamburg copy agrees almost exactly with 
 the former. P. 5. (ed. Dyce) it has daunt; p. 6, inore; p. 7. 
 the Oeconomy no and wouldst tnan etc, 
 
VI THE EDITOR'S 
 
 Of all her eyes had ever yet beheld etc. (17, 3.) and 
 are, moreover, explained, as to the whole situation. 
 It is an outbreak of natural feeling in the bosom of 
 the unhappy victim, very fine, and most tragical, truly 
 Shakespearean. It may seem more questionable 
 whether the words (16, 34): 
 
 Desire flew in a robe of glowing blushes 
 Into her cheeks 
 
 are due to the "ambitious style" of Wilkins, or to 
 some lost portion of the dialogue spoken aside by her 
 jealous father. I think that most readers of "Pericles" 
 will grant, that, if it be Shakespeare's, it must have 
 come down to us in a very imperfect state. 
 
 In the Riddle proposed to the Prince, the last 
 fine but one reads according to all the earlier edi- 
 tions (from that of 1609 to that of 1685: p. 194.) 
 as well as the modern ones: 
 
 How they may be, and yet in two, 
 which was by Tieck more intelligibly translated: 
 
 Wie das geschieht, da zwei wir sind, 
 and thus our novel has it (16, 25.): 
 
 How this may be, and yet in two, 
 which seems to be preferable. 
 
 A few lines before the corruption of the origin- 
 al text: 
 
 I waite the sharpest blow (Ant'wchus) 
 Scorning adiiice ; read the conclusion then: 
 
 is confirmed as such by our novel (16, 14), which 
 makes the king throw down the riddle, 
 
 ^"■bidding him . ... to reade and die.'' 
 
PREFACE. VII 
 
 The conformity of the novel with the play being 
 sometimes almost literal, many other instances might 
 be brought forward of new and very plausible read- 
 ings (e. g. to read III, 2. '■'■from Tyre" instead of 
 "/•or Tyre" Coll. Sh. VIII, 314, 23 5 Wilk. 6, 20. and 
 46, 14.), of conjectures supported (e. g. ib. Ill, 3. 
 Coll. VIII. p. 321. not. 5. Wilk. 52, 34. to read iin- 
 cissar'd and hair instead of unsisterd and heir) 
 or confuted. But it is not our business here to an- 
 ticipate the observations of future editors of "Peri- 
 cles" j we wish only to direct the attention of our 
 Shakespeareans to this curious novel, and to leave 
 it to abler hands to make full use of it. 
 
 In fact the whole seems to have been worked 
 up both from Shakespeare's play and the novel of 
 Apollonius Tyiius, as it was translated by Lawrence 
 Twine, which, together with Gower's version from 
 Gotfridus Viterbiensis, is known to have been the 
 source of Shakespeare, and was as such reprinted 
 by Mr. Collier in his "Shakespeare's Library", Vol. I. 
 p. 183 — 257. On a careful comparison it will appear, 
 that the coincidences between Twine and Wilkins 
 are too numerous and too literal to be ascribed to 
 mere chance. The very title and head-line of our 
 novel was taken from Twine, who inscribed it: The 
 Patterne of the painefull Aduentures; only Wilkins 
 had "J Patterne etc.^ but, by inadvertency, he seems 
 to have left ''The" in the first head-line (p. 12). Any 
 direct dependance of Wilkins on Gower is not 
 apparent. 
 
 On the other hand, we must confess, that our 
 
VIII THE EDITOR'S 
 
 novel is not only well written, and, for the easy flow 
 of the narrative, tastes of Herodotean sweetness (as 
 a friend of mine judiciously observed), but that it 
 has also some passages, which, by their force of argu- 
 ment, by their descriptive vivacity or felicity of imagery 
 and expression, seem vastly superior to the powers of 
 any George Wilkins, and are, nevertheless, sought in vain 
 in other sources, or in the Drama such as we possess-it. 
 It must not, however, be overlooked, that Wilkins 
 was a poet, and that we may suppose him to have 
 copied the style of Shakespeare. Of his person we know 
 little or nothing 5 at least G. Langbaine ^ only says of 
 him, that he was "an author that liv'd in the reign 
 of king Charles I. (we should rather say that he 
 wrote under King James I.), who was the writer of a 
 single comedy, besides that in which he joined with 
 Day and Rowley: The Travels of Three English Bro- 
 thers'' His works are three in number: 
 
 1) The I Miseries of Inforst | Manage | . As it 
 is now playd by his Maiesties | Seruants. | Qui 
 Alios, (seipsum) docet. By George Wi.lkins. | (the 
 Arms of Geneva with the Legend POST TENE- 
 BRAS LUX) London | Printed for George Vincent 
 and are to be sold at his shop in | Woodstreet. 
 1607. I 4«. 36 leaves. 
 
 It was reprinted in 161!. J 629. 1637. and has 
 been inserted in Vol. V. of Dodsley's Collection 
 p. 1 — 98 (a. 1825.) It is written in prose. 
 
 1 An Account of the English Dramatick Poets. Oxford. 1691. 
 p. 512, 
 
PREFACE. ]X 
 
 2) (Jointly with John Day and Wm. Rowley.) 
 The Travels of the Three English Brothers, Sir 
 Thomas, Sir Anthony, and Sir Robert Shirley, 
 an Historical Play. 4». J 607. 
 
 3) Three Miseries ofBarbary — Plague, Famine, 
 Ciuill Warre: with a relation of the death of 
 Mahomet the late Emperour, and a brief report 
 of the new present wars between tbe three bro- 
 thers. Printed by W. J. for Henry Gosson, and 
 are to be solde in Paternoster Rowe, at the signe 
 of the Sunne. 4». s. 1. & a. (The name of 
 Geo. Wilkins is subscribed to the Dedication.) 
 
 Of '■'■The Miseries" we agree with Mr. Rapp, i that the 
 style strongly rivals Shakespeare, and that we are every- 
 where reminded of the ludicrous scenes in Henry IV. As to ^ 
 the tract last mentioned (which 1 have not seen), it 
 "is written in an ambitious style, and the descrip- 
 tions are often striking, but there is nothing but the 
 similarity of the name to connect it with The Miseries 
 of Inforced Marriage.'' ^ To the uncommon rarity of 
 "The Painfull Aduentures of Pericles" it must be ascrib- 
 ed, that the author's name, as connected with Shake- 
 speare's Pericles, seems to have remained unknown hi- 
 therto. Being one of the minor dramatists of the time he 
 was most probably employed by a bookseller, to adapt 
 the incidents of the new and favourite play for the read- 
 ing public, and what had been most unsuccessfully 
 
 * Studien aber das englische Theater in Herrigs Archiv fur 
 das Studium der neueren Sprachen: XVIII. p. 234, (1855,) 
 ' Dodsley's Collection V. p. 3. 
 
X THE EDITOR'S 
 
 attempted in verse with earlier plays, as with Romeo 
 & JuHet in 1597 and with Hamlet in 1603, was here, 
 perhaps for the first and last time, attempted in prose 
 in 1608. Unhappily, the first edition of the play 
 immediately following in 1609. (as that of Romeo 
 and Juhet in 1599., and that of Hamlet in 1604.) 
 seems to have been, though in another way, yet 
 equally piratical and equally imperfect, and thus we 
 must perhaps for ever renounce the hope of forming 
 a correct opinion of what is very likely to have been 
 a masterpiece. If the Editors of the first Foho in 
 1623 had no manuscript of the poet's (which in many 
 cases they had not), this condition of the printed text 
 was a sufficient reason for omitting it from the col- 
 lection. We, in our Epigonic days, may carefully 
 gather the remnants, 
 
 Wie ■wir in einen engen Krug 
 
 Die Asche des Geliebten sammeln, 
 but, if taken singly and out of its proper connexion, 
 we must, of course, often remain uncertain what 
 are sparks of that immortal fire which animated the 
 greatest of modern poets, or what may be due to 
 the ambitious pen of an imitator, who was by no 
 means wanting in ability. ^ 
 
 * He calls his novel "an infant of /lis brain," and seems to 
 inlimate that he has "put Ais wit in print" : hut we can hardly 
 believe "the ragged philosopher'' to have been even so much as a 
 cooperalor with Shakespeare. Wilkins does not with the slightest flourish 
 of his pen hint at our poet, though speaking wilh raucli praise of the per- 
 formance "by the King's Majesty's Players," and would make it 
 appear as if nobody were concerned in the authorship but old 
 
PREFACE. XI 
 
 If we take a general view of the question, our 
 novel is certainly of peculiar interest, forming one of 
 the last and youngest links in the long chain of 
 different shapes and revisions of the old fabulous 
 story of King ApoUonius of Tyre. It cannot be my 
 intention to enter into the detail of this literary 
 Question, widely diffused through many different 
 nations and centuries, and very complicated. I refer 
 the English readers to Douce ^ and the German to 
 Grasse ^. However, I may be allowed to take the 
 opportunity of stating that, besides the Anglosaxon 
 version, edited by Mr. Thorpe in 1834, the oldest 
 forms that we know of hitherto, are written in Latin, 
 and three in number: 
 
 1) Historia Apollonii Tyrii, edited first about 1470. 
 
 Gower, though he was only introduced by the dramatist in the 
 quaUty of "the Presenter." 
 
 As the query on the supposed cooperation of olher poets in 
 the play of "Pericles'", so that on the existence of an earlier drama, 
 founded on the same story, seems not to receive any light through 
 the novel of Wilkins. But even if no traces of such an earlier play 
 were discovered, we should think it "highly improbahle that a story 
 "so interesling and so popular" — we may call it that of the me- 
 diaeval Ulysses — "should have remained unadapted to the English 
 "stage until 1609", which are the words, Mr. Collier (Hist, of E. D. 
 P. II. 416) applies very justly to Romeo & Juliet; and we may remind 
 our readers that a play under the title of "The Painful Pilgrimage" 
 was acted before Queen Elizabeth in ISG'/g; nothing of which, 
 however, is known, but that we may suppose it to have been no tragedy, 
 but "a play", which would exactly tally with "Pericles", (ib. I. 194 ff.) 
 * Illustrations p. 398 ff. (ed. of 1839) = II. p. 135 IF. (ed.;of 1807) 
 '-Literargeschichle II. 3, 1. p. 257—260, (1842.) 
 
XII THE EDITOR'S 
 
 s. 1. & a. in 80. i and then by Mark Welser from an 
 Augsburg MS., in 1595 j repeated in his works 1682 
 p. 681 — 7045 last edited by M. Lapaume, 1856, in 
 the Scriptores Erotici^ Paris. Didot, from a MS. of 
 the XlVth. cent. ^ 
 
 2) Chapter the 153rd of the Gesta Romanorum. 
 On a comparison of the text of Weiser's Apollonius 
 with A. Keller's Edition of the Gesta Rom. (1842), it 
 appeared evident to me, that the additions of the G. 
 R. were comparatively much more barbarous, as to 
 the language, and that some details of incident and 
 punctuation are also greatly worse in the G. R. and 
 read as if they were corrupted from, and interpolated 
 into, the text of Weiser's Apollonius j which novel 
 was, by him, assigned to the 5th century p. Chr. ^ 
 
 1 Described by Wolf in Wiener Jahrb. 1831. Vol. LVI. p. 255. 
 
 ^ There seem to exist about a dozen MSS. of this Latin 
 Apollonius in England, some in Italy and France, seven at Vienna 
 (some registered as of the XII. cent.), two at Breslau, three at Mu- 
 nich etc.; another on parchment is repeatedly quoted by Gasp. Barlh 
 in his Adversaria 1624, as extant in the Academical library of 
 Basle, but it seems not lo be the same that was made use of by 
 Welser. As for the latter, though in the 16th. century belonging 
 to the Augsburg convent of St. Ulric and St. Afra, it is not now 
 to be found in the Royal Library at Munich (where most of 
 the MSS. of the same convent arc at present) but must have wandered, 
 with some other MSS. of St. Ulric and St. Afra, to Switzerland. In 
 the MS. Catalogue of the Bibliolheca monasterii 8. UcUilrki cf- S. 
 Afrae, it is entered thus : Historic! et miseria Apollonii untlqidnHlmu . 
 MS. in membruna, qiiam ex nostra Libliotheca edidit Velserus in 4 
 Venetiis impressu. 
 
 ^ While these sheets are going through the press, Prof. M. 
 Haupt of Berlin University, states in a letter lo the Editor, that he 
 
PREFACE. Xm 
 
 3) Part XI. of Godfrey of Viterbo's Panlheon: 
 Pistorius: Scriptt. Germ. II. p. 242—252. (1584): 
 composed in Leonine hexameters, about 1186. God- 
 frey was Chaplain to the first Suabian Emperors, and 
 dedicated his work to Pope Urban HI. who reigned 
 1185—1187.1 
 
 It is only conjectured from some particulars of 
 the language that the oldest Latin form was a trans- 
 lation from the Greek. This supposition, which may 
 very possibly be wrong in itself, has engendered 
 several slight mistakes of even good scholars. 
 
 I) That of Warton (1781) has already been 
 pointed out by Douce (1807)^2 it has again been 
 committed, in 1850, by Prof. Ettmiiller, ^ who quotes 
 amongst the Anglo-Saxon prose writings: 
 
 knows about one hundred MSS. of the Latin Apollonius, the ol- 
 dest of which is a Florentine Codex of the IXlh or Xth century; 
 adding that his researches enable him to fix precisely the time of 
 the Latin Romance. We are sure to get it soon edited by this 
 eminent critic in the Transactions of the Royal Academy. 
 
 ^ Which form of the Latin novel Vincentius Bellovacensis (:ibout 
 1264) inserted in or rather epitomized for his Speculum Historiale, 
 one of the first Cyclopaedias compiled during the middle ages, I 
 cannot make out, as the large Edition of Vincentius in two Folio- 
 Volumes printed about 1460 (which alone I can make use of), though 
 stating in the Index rather indefinitely Historia Apollonii Tyrii in fine 
 libri quarli, appears to have no such story neither in the fourth nor 
 in any other book of the text. In a Bodleian MS. (Catal. MSS. 
 Angl. n. 2435) we find botii Vincentii Speculum Hisloriule and the 
 Narratio de Apollonio Tyrio, together with other fabulous stories. 
 
 2 niustr. p. 401. 
 
 ' Anglosaxonum Poelae etc. Praef. p. XXI. 
 
XIV THE EDITOR'S 
 
 Vita Apollonii Tyrii, a Philostrato composita inter- 
 preLe ignoto. 
 confounding the anonymous Romance of Apollonius 
 Tyrius, not known but to be written in Latin, with 
 Philostratus' Life of Apollonius Tyanensis, composed 
 in Greek, at the request of the Empress Julia 
 (217 p. Ch.) 
 
 2) My fellow-countryman Jonsius (1659) ^ speaks 
 of the Stoic Apollonius of Tyre, who about 75. a. 
 Ch. made up a list of his brother philosophers and 
 of their writings, which is lost for aught we know 3 
 and thinks it exists in the Oxford and Paris libraries, 
 misconceiving what Vossius says about the fabulous 
 story of our King Apollonius of Tyre. He is con- 
 futed by the learned Fabricius (1705) Bibl. Gr. vol. 111. 
 pag. 539 ed. Harl. 
 
 3) As to the supposed Greek original, the trans- 
 lation of the Latin text into modern Greek verse, * 
 completed in January 1500 in the island of Crete, 
 has led some writers into error. First Welser him- 
 self, the second and long thought first editor of the 
 Latin Romance, and the inventor of the theory of its 
 being originally written in Greek, in 1595^ last M. 
 Lapaume, the most recent editor, in 1856. The for- 
 mer says that he finds "Apollonii de Tyro Historia" 
 mentioned in the Catalogue of the Imperial Library 
 at Vienna, but this, if relating to Greek MSS., is most 
 probably a mistake for a MS. of the said modern 
 
 ' De Scriploribus Historic Philosophicae lib. II. cap. XVIII. 
 ' cf. Douce lUiistr. p. 400. 
 
PREFACE. XV 
 
 Greek Apollonius, mentioned by Lambecius Bibl. 
 Vindob. vol. V. pag. 548. As to the latter, although 
 Meursius, Barth, Vossius, and whoever following them 
 had spoken of this modern Greek version, of which 
 there exist no less than five editions, and which is 
 mentioned in every bibhographical work and every 
 larger Encyclopaedia: M. Lapaume declares it to be 
 of great antiquity, never printed, and finally assures 
 us that it is lost 5 whereas it is very young, often 
 printed, and not lost. 
 
 4) It would be at least as pardonable to believe 
 the questionable Greek original to exist in "Apollonii 
 historiae mirabiles" or 'AnoXXcaviov CdTOQiat d'aviia6im, 
 as they are commonly registered or inscribed, e. g. 
 in Cod. Palat. 398 at Heidelberg. This, however, is 
 an Anthology of miraculous anecdotes, thought by 
 Meursius to be identical with the "Historia Commen- 
 titia' or n:£Ql xccv£il}£v6^iiv')]g idroQiag, put by Suidas 
 among the works of Apollonius Dyscolos or Alex- 
 andrinus Minor, who came to Rome under Mark Anto- 
 nine. It was edited as such by Meursius in 1620. 4". 
 
 As little therefore as are the claims of our 
 Pericles, the Tyrian hero of the old romance, to be 
 akin to him, who, in days of more glorious antiquity, 
 
 quite as illegitimate, we fear, is the title of his Alter 
 Ego Apollonius ^ to being a relation of either the 
 
 1 The reason of this name being converted into that of the 
 Athenian statesman is 1 think (with Douce) well accounted for by 
 Steevens. 
 
XVI THE EDITOR'S 
 
 wonderful Magician of Tyana, or the Stoic philosopher, 
 or the learned Grammarian; nay we think, that for 
 every thread of his Greek pallium he is only indebt- 
 ed to the benevolent care of modern antiquaries. 
 
 We have, then, only to deal with Latin originals 
 of the romance, the Greek ones being founded on 
 mere error or speculation. Although we must refrain 
 from settling the intricate question about the date 
 and language of the oldest Latin form and its relation 
 to the Riddles of Symposius and the old Anglo-Saxon 
 version: a far more skilful and experienced hand being 
 moreover engaged in the same researches 5 we will 
 not omit to contribute our share on the occasion, a 
 MS. having by accident fallen into our hands which 
 seems to purport something new. 
 
 Marina or rather Tharsia, as she is called in 
 the old legend, proposes some Riddles to her father, 
 bowed down under affliction from his losses. They 
 are in the Latin texts hitherto known both of Welser 
 and the Gesta Romanorum, — Godfrey having no 
 riddles at all — but three in number, namely : The 
 Fish in the Sea, the Ship, and the Bath 5 corresponding 
 to the ilth, 13th and 87lh of Symposii Aenigmata. 
 In a fragmentary Tegernsee MS., however, cer- 
 tainly not younger than the 10th century 1 and pro- 
 bably written shortly after 900 p. Ch., we find this 
 
 ^ Five small leaves of thin parchment, very well wrilten (the 
 "ductus" agrees most minutely with the fac-simile given in Catal. 
 of the MSS. of the Brit. Mus. PI. II. of Cod. Aiund. 241. fol. 77. b. 
 Velust.), and almost without any abbreviations; they seem to have 
 
MEPACE. XVn 
 
 passage enlarged by four other Problems of the kind 
 on the Sponge, the Ball, the Looking-Glass, and the 
 Stairs, which Tharsia proposing to ApoUonius, he re- 
 solves them, alluding in his second answer to his 
 skill at ball shown in Pentapohs. ^ They answer, — 
 though with very material and partly very plausible 
 variations of the text — to Nr. 62, 59. 68. and 77. 
 of Symposius. 
 
 The same four additional Riddles are contained 
 in another MS. Norimb. ^ and even augmented by a 
 fifth on the Reed = Sympos. 2., inserted between 
 the first and the second, and by a sixth on the Four 
 Wheels = Sympos. 76., interposed between the eighth 
 and the ninth: for thus they make up nine on the 
 whole. 
 
 Both these MSS. (and there will surely exist 
 more of this species ^) agree, on an average, with 
 
 belonged lo the celebrated abbey of T«gernsee and to bave served 
 for the cover of a MS. of the 15th cent. Now at Munich, where 
 the late and much lamented Mr. Schmellcr bought them, about 1828, 
 at Docen's sale. 
 
 * Hanc ego in Pentapoli hahd ducem. 
 
 2 Monac. Cod. Lat. 215. (fol. 194a. — 205a.) a large Volume 
 of miscellaneous contents, part of which are, about 1467, written by the 
 first (or second) owner, Hartmann Schedel M. D. of Nilrnberg a 
 learned man and great traveler. Written though very legibly Ihrough- 
 out, yet, in this and other portions not penned by Schedel, himself, 
 disftgured with the grossest blunders by an ignorant scribe ; the date 
 of 1462. is affixed to the Novel, which in the Inftex is called: 
 Hisloria Antiochi et Apollinaris (sic). 
 
 3 The Paris MS. made use of by M. Lapaume belongs lo tiie 
 same class. Cf. Ibis Preface p. XXIII. not. 3. 
 
 Preface B. 
 
XVIli THE EDITOR'S 
 
 each other, and differ so much from the texts of either 
 Welser or the Gesta, and generally not for the worse 
 (though not devoid of peculiar Graecisms, ^ and having 
 deus throughout, not du), that we cannot but suppose 
 this text to be one of the oldest, if not the oldest 
 form of the Latin romance, unprinted hitherto, if we 
 except that lately published by M. Lapaume, though 
 it would indeed be very difficult to form a correct 
 judgment of it from his edition. ^ 
 
 This is fully borne out by a collation of that 
 single leaf of the Tegernsee MS., which contains a 
 passage not omitted in the Anglo-Saxon version, with 
 the latter 5 for the other four happen to fall within 
 the large gap of the unique MS. which has preserved 
 that precious relic. This coincidence of the supposed 
 oldest MSS. with the oldest Version will best appear 
 from the following confrontation : 
 
 * The reading Tacel sub sanio nuiiis in tenebris instead of 
 what Wels. Nor. Par. and even Gotfr. Viterb. read sub sentinel (G. 
 R. inferius) is, if corrupted from 6avig the deck, very remarkable. 
 
 ^ As to the Riddles, M. Lapaume's edition has ten of them : 
 1. the Fish in the Sea, 2. the Reed, 3. the Ship, 4. the Rath, 5. 
 the Anchor = Sympos. 98., 6. the Sponge, 7. the Rail, 8. the 
 Looking Glass, 9. the Four Wheels, 10. the Stairs. — Though the 
 Tegernsee MS. must have comprised more than five riddles and may 
 have included that on "the Reed" (the leaf which could have 
 had the three first numbers being wanting), it is not likely to have 
 had "the Anchor". For the leaf which we possess has the Rath, 
 the Sponge, the Rail, the Looking^Glass, and the Stairs; and "the 
 Anchor" is likewise not in the Nilrnberg MS. Seven riddles also 
 are contained in the first edition: cf. Wien. Jabrb. LVl. 256. Of 
 course, such a passage was very liable to interpolation. 
 
PREFACE. XIX 
 
 Anglo-Sax. Vers. MSS. Teg. (Nor. Welser (^ Gent. 
 
 Paris.) * Ho7n.) * 
 
 Dha smercode se cyng Quos ut uidit rex Quos intuens Rex 
 
 and heom to beseah subridens ait- ait: 
 and thus cwsedh. 
 
 And se cyngc nam Rex accepit codicel- Rex accepit codicel- 
 
 tha gewrita and ge- los. & anulo suo si- los & legif, signa- 
 
 inseglode hi mid his gnavit. & dal apollo- vitque & dedit Apol- 
 
 ringe and sealde a- nio dicens" lonio dicens: 
 polionio thus cwe- 
 dhende. 
 
 Dha ndm apollonius ApoUonius acceptis Apollonius acceptis 
 
 tha gewrita and code codicellis' petit do- codicellis introivit cu- 
 
 to dhare cynelican mum regiam. Intro- biculum. * 
 
 healle. iuit cubiculum- 
 
 Dhcet mseden n^m Puella accepit & le- Puella resignavit co- 
 
 and rjedde. git dicellos, et legit' 
 
 Aefter thisum word- Haec dicens insf ante * Haec dicens rescri- 
 
 um heo mid modes amoris audatia sui. psit et signavit codi- 
 
 ^ The varialions of either the Nor. and Paris MSS. from that 
 of Tegernsee, or of the Gesla from Welser, are, on the whole, of 
 less importance. Some of them are stated in the following notes. 
 
 ^ The Gesta give it: Apollonius recepit scripturas et puellae 
 portavit. In the foregoing passage G. R. read likewise scripluram 
 instead of codicellos. 
 
 ' The same have: Puella codices aperuit, et legit — rendering, 
 as before, the meaning of Welser's text in a language somewhat 
 different and not unfrequently somewhat more barbarous. 
 
 ^ Here the Nor. and Par. MSS. instead of instanle read lanla 
 and lanti, and both omit sui. In which the Teg. MS. ajipears to lie 
 riglil; but I must not forget to point out another passage, in whicli 
 
XX 
 
 THE EDITOR'S 
 
 Anglo-Sax. Vers. MSS. Teg. (Nor. Welser (Sr Gesl. 
 
 Paris.) Rom.) 
 
 dnrEedncsseawrAtodh- scripsit. & signato[s] cellos, tradiditque 
 
 er gewrit and thset codicellos' apoUonio ApoUonio, ut eos 
 
 ge-inseglode and tradidif Pert[u]lit regi deferret. 
 
 sealde apoUonio. A- apollonius in foro. * 
 
 pollonius hit tha tit & tradidit regi- 
 baer on dha streete and 
 sealde tham cynge. 
 
 Dhu goda cynge and Bone rex & pater ^ Rex et pater optime, 
 niin se leofesta feeder 
 
 This result is confirmed by the language of the 
 Tegernsee MS., which is considerably purer than that 
 of Welser's text: e. g. eius instead of the incorrect 
 suam: Vels. Op. p. 688 Hn. 27 j or Magister, non tibi 
 dolet quod ego nubo ? instead of Magister Apolloni, ita 
 non te dolet, quod ego alii nubam^ ib. 689, I5 the 
 succinct answer: Si amares, doleres instead of what 
 is much more languid : Magister, magister, si me ama- 
 res., doleres: ib. 3; sextertios several times instead of 
 
 Nor. & Par. coincide most strikingly with tiie Old A. S. Version 
 
 and which is missing in the Teg. as well as in Welser and 
 the Gesta : 
 
 AS. V. Nor. Ed. Paris, 
 
 ac heo ne funde na Et nomen illius quem Sed non elegit (?) ejus 
 
 thone naman tharon amabat non legit. quem volebat. 
 llie heo wolde. 
 
 ' Nor. and Par. read forum. 
 
 ^ Here ends the first leaf of the Tegernsee MS. 
 
PREFACE. XXI 
 
 the barbarous sextertias over and over again repeated 
 in Welser's MS: ib. 690 j the Indicative Mood deam- 
 bulahat instead of the blundering Conjunctive in the 
 passage in Welser's MS. : 
 
 Tertia vero die unda maris ejecit loculum ad littus Eplie- 
 sioriim non longe a praedio ciijusdam medici Cerimonis 
 nomine, qui cum discipulis suis eadem die in littore 
 
 umbularet. 
 
 ib. 09 1 ; and vice versa Uideamus quid desideret do- 
 lor instead of the blundering Indicative perqinramus, 
 quid desiderat out mandat dolor : ib. j sub ccipite 
 positam instead of the barbarous subtus caput posi- 
 tam etc. Also the spelling of the Tegernsee MS. is 
 much more ancient, e, g. petit (petiit)^ eiciunt^ intro- 
 isti, fabros naualis (navales)^ omnis (omnes) etc. 
 
 Then, with respect to the long series of subse- 
 quent versions, we should think to have at least four 
 Latin originals, viz.: 
 
 A. Three in prose : 
 
 1) That in the said and other MSS. 
 
 2) Welser's text. 
 
 3) That in the Gesta Romanorum ch. the J 5 3rd. 
 
 B. One in verse: 
 
 4) Part XI. of Godfrey of Viterbo's Pantheon. 
 
 To return to the English translations, that of 
 Lawrence Twine is, although indirectly, apparently 
 more dependant on either Welser or the Gesta than 
 on the above mentioned MSS. One instance may 
 suffice. The third (or fourth) Riddle (The Bath) is 
 
XXII THE EDITOR'S 
 
 the only one not consisting of a triplet; the fourth 
 line being an awkward and almost unintelligible ad- 
 dition. Twine has it as follows: 
 
 There is an house through which the fire 
 
 doth passe, and doth no harme: 
 Therein is heat, which none may moove : 
 
 from thence, it is so warme: 
 A naked house, and in that house 
 
 guests naked doe desire 
 To dwell, from whence if boards you draw, 
 
 then fall you in the- fire. 
 
 which agrees with Welser's text: 
 
 Per tolas aedes innoxius introit ignis. 
 Est calor in medio magnus, quem nemo removit: 
 Non est nuda domus, nudus sed convenit hospes, 
 Si luctum poneres {Vels. ponas), insons intrares {Vels. intrabis) 
 
 in ignes. 
 
 and with that of the Gesta, although it be much more 
 corrupt and very bad verse: 
 
 Per rotas et aedes innoxius ille pertransit. 
 Est calor in medio magnus, quem nemo removit; 
 Non est nuda domus, nudus sed convenit hospes; 
 Si luctum poneres, inmcens intrares in ignes. 
 
 but by no means with the MSS. of Symposius, ^ which 
 give it without any fourth line: 
 
 Per totas aedes innoxius introit ignis: 
 
 Est calor in medio magnus, quem nemo uerelur. 
 
 Non est nuda domus, sed nudus conuenit hospes. 
 
 nor with our Ntirnberg MS. ^ which, though penned 
 
 ' Wernsdorf, Poet. Lat. Min. VI. p. 553. 
 * The fragments of the Tegernsee MS. do not comprehend this 
 passage. 
 
PREFACE. XXIII 
 
 by an ignorant scribe, at once decides on the question- 
 able line: 
 
 per tolas sedes * innoxius irruit ignis 
 
 flammis liinc inde ^ 
 
 nee domus nudusque hospes 
 
 Apollonius ait: Ego si luctus deponerein, iniiocens intrarem in ignem 
 cum intrarem balneum et hinc inde flumne per ' 
 
 This, though very corrupt, shows that, what the 
 other texts made part of Tharsia's riddle, was, in 
 fact, part of Apollonius' answer, which tallies ex- 
 actly with the genial turn of the other answers. The 
 Gesta, therefore, and Welser's MS.^ having only (very 
 abruptly) after the four lines above mentioned : 
 Apollonius ait: intrarem balneum ubi hinc inde flam- 
 mae per tabulas suryunt^ by so striking an instance 
 of coinciding corruption, evidently show, that they 
 belong to one and the same class of corrupt texts, 
 from which (and not from some genuine Greek orig- 
 inal as Belleforest would make us believe) also the 
 French and Enghsh translations were derived; and 
 that the better text, which is more likely to be the 
 true original, seems to be the Latin one contained 
 in the Tegernseensis and other MSS. of the same 
 class. 
 
 But, to please those of our readers who "know 
 
 * Two MSS. of Symposius concur in this blunder with Nor. 
 
 ^ The omilted words are nonsensical: circumdata fl. 
 
 h. i. vallata n. nostra vnda d. n. conruit h. A per tulium silent. 
 
 ' Nearly the same reading was published by Mannert in 1823, 
 from two Vienna MSS. of the 14lh. cent, in Wien. Jahrb. Anzeige 
 Blalt, p. 62. but without either comparing the text of Symposius 
 or applying to the English translations. 
 
XXIV THE EDITOR'S 
 
 little Latin and less Greek" and are not the worse for 
 that, I hope, let us drop the subject, fully persuaded 
 that a new edition of the Latin ApoUonius, which we 
 expect from the hand of an eminent critic, will state 
 all the probabilities at their just value. 
 
 Having announced some of the literary curiosi- 
 ties relative to Shakespeare and his contemporaries, 
 which are to be found in Germany, 1 must not forget 
 the copy of the 1609 edition of Shakespeare's Son- 
 nets, which I discovered some weeks ago in the 
 Bentinck Library at Varel near Oldenburg. As two 
 of the best English scholars are at variance with 
 each other about the rarity of this edition as to its 
 title-page, I insert a fac-simile of it. The copy 
 is complete and in very good condition. 
 
 As for Wilkins' novel, I am responsible for the 
 accuracy of the reprint. Only with regard to the 
 type, I must state that the body of the tract is prin- 
 ted in black-letter, and the names of men, and con- 
 tents of the chapters in Roman type, those of towns 
 and countries and the foreign quotations in Italics. 
 This we have inverted in our reprint. Every thing 
 else has been reprinted as exactly as possible, page 
 for page and line for linej only the numeration of 
 both, included in brackets, being added by the Editor. 
 The original tract consists of forty leaves. 
 
 Notwithstanding the small size of this publica- 
 tion, I am bound to acknowledge the material aid of 
 several eminent Public Librarians, who have, through 
 
PREFACE. XXV 
 
 their advice and the Hterary treasures at their com- 
 mand, most readily assisted me in my Shakespeare- 
 researches in the course of the latter years. Besides 
 those gentlemen already mentioned I name Dr. Pertz, 
 Principal Librarian of the Roy. Libr. of Berlin; Prof 
 Hockh of Gottingen; and my kind friends Dr. Merzdorf 
 Librarian, and Dr. Leverkus Keeper of the Archi- 
 ves, at Oldenburg j Prof Halm at Munich, Prof. 
 Preller at Weimar, Mr. C. H. Monicke at Leipzig 5 
 and, most of all, Mr. Collier, to vv^hose Introduction 
 vi^e must now refer the reader for more and better 
 information. 
 
 Oldenburg, 29. March 1857. 
 
 TYCHO MOMMSEN. 
 

 
 SHAKE-SPEARES 
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 Neuer before Imprinced. 
 
 AT London 
 By ^. E/ci for Tl T, and are 
 
 to be foJde by /ohx)ffrigbt,6we\\in^ 
 at Chrift Church gate. 
 1 6op, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 it is impossible to value too highly the tract of 
 which an exact reprint is contained in the following 
 sheets. The original is most probably the only 
 complete copy in existence: I have a fragment of it, 
 which 1 obtained about ten years ago 5 but it has 
 neither beginning nor end: another exemplar, hitherto 
 deemed perfect, containing both the title-page and 
 the termination, is in the hands of a private English 
 gentleman, who bought it at the cost of more than 
 L. 20 at the sale of Heber's Library in J 834. Here 
 the Dedication "to the right worshipful and tnost 
 worthy Gentleman, Master Henry Ferrnor" is wanting; 
 and when I wrote upon the subject of its intimate 
 connexion with Shakespeare's "Pericles,"' about eighteen 
 years ago, I was entirely ignorant of the important 
 fact, that the production was the authorship of Ge- 
 orge Wilkins, a dramatist of considerable distinction, 
 whose play, called "The Miseries of enforced Marriage"- 
 was so popular, that it went through four editions 
 between 1607, when it was first published, and 16.i7, 
 when the last old impression made its appearance. 
 I did not become acquainted with the circumstance 
 
XXVIII Mr. COLLIER'S 
 
 that Wilkins was the writer of the ensuing novel, 
 until after 1 had sent the following communication to 
 the 'Athenaeum" which I here beg leave to subjoin, 
 as part of my Introduction. 
 
 "The readers of the Athenaeum may like to hear 
 something more regarding a tract, with which my 
 name was connected, in a paragraph in the Athe- 
 naeum of February 7. It was correctly stated that 
 I formerly printed fifty copies of a small publication 
 devoted principally to an account of that tract, which 
 is certainly, on every ground, the most curious that 
 has fallen under my observation in the course of my 
 life: it is unique in its character, and until recently 
 I never heard of more than one other perfect copy 
 of it, independently of a considerable fragment in 
 my own hands. It now turns out that there is a 
 third perfect copy in a Swiss library, which had once 
 belonged to a foreigner who visited London about the 
 time of Shakespeare's death. 1 may add, that it is 
 now being reprinted in Germany, and that it well 
 deserves the distinction. 
 
 "It is a narrative founded upon Shakespeare's 
 "Pericles," which was first acted in 1607 or 1608. 
 Various novels are known of which Shakespeare a- 
 vailed himself in other plays, such as "The Winter's 
 Tale," "As You Like It," &c. j but the production 1 
 am now speaking of differs from all others in this 
 respect — that, instead of having had a drama found- 
 ed upon it, it was itself founded upon a drama, and 
 that drama "Pericles." 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXIX 
 
 "It is now, I believe, generally admitted that, 
 when a play was unusually popular, it was the habit 
 of certain booksellers, in the time of Shakespeare, to 
 employ shorthand writers to take down, in the the- 
 atre, as much of the dialogue as they could, and to 
 pubhsh the transcribed notes as the play itself Such, 
 we may be sure, was the case with "Hamlet" and 
 "Romeo and Juliet," to which the excellent letter of 
 Prof Mommsen, in the Athenaeum of February 7, se- 
 parately apphes. Why the same course was not pur- 
 sued in the case of "Pericles" does not appear. 
 Perhaps in 1607 or 1608 the trick was becoming 
 somewhat stale, and the bookseller thought that he 
 could make a better thing of a publication in a nar- 
 rative form, but distinctly stated on the title-page to 
 be derived from a play then daily represented with 
 great applause. Hence the tract I am now directing 
 attention to, which is called, and I quote the terms 
 literally, "The painfull Adventures of Pericles Prince 
 of Tyre. Being the true History of the Play of Pe- 
 I'icles, at it was lately presented by the worthy and 
 ancient Poet John Gower. At London. Printed by 
 T. P. for Nat. Butter. 1608." It is in quarto, and 
 consists of forty leaves, including the title-page, in 
 the centre of which there is a woodcut of John Gower, 
 with a staff in one hand and a bunch of bays in 
 the other; while before him, upon a table, lies a 
 book, which we may suppose to be a copy of his 
 "Confessio Amantis," containing, as is well known, 
 a version of the story of "Pericles," under the name 
 of ApoUonius of Tyre. His dress, as represented in the 
 
XXX Mr. COLLIER'S 
 
 woodcut, merits notice, inasmuch as it is, in all pro- 
 bability, such as the actor wore who played the part 
 of Gower, and who spoke the Prologue and interlo- 
 cutions in Shakespeare's ''Pericles." It is merely a 
 sort of gown, very plain, opening in front, and reach- 
 ing just below the knee. In my fifty copies of the 
 small publication relating to this subject, 1 gave a 
 fac-simile. of this interesting dramatic relic. 
 
 "Now, to speak a little more particularly of the 
 contents of this literary rarity. It professes, as we 
 have seen by the title-page, to give the "history of 
 the Play of Pericles" as it had been recently acted 
 on the stage; and, at the end of "the Argument" 
 prefixed, the reader is entreated to receive the novel 
 "in the same manner" as the play had been received 
 when "by the King's Majesties Players it was excel- 
 lently presented." The King's Majesty's Players of 
 course consisted of the company to which Shakespeare 
 had been always attached, which performed in the 
 summer at the Globe on the Bankside, and in the 
 winter at the Blackfriars. 
 
 "It has always been lamented that in so few old 
 dramas hsts of characters are supplied; but here they 
 are furnished as the accompaniment to a mere nar- 
 ration ; and, since the names almost entirely accord 
 with those found in Shakespeare's "Pericles," though 
 not prefixed to it, it is needless to insert them here. 
 The divisions of the story do not follow the five acts 
 of the play, for the tract is composed of eleven 
 chapters, which include all the incidents, nearly in 
 the course in which they are employed by Shakespeare. 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXXI 
 
 "1 am anxious in what follows, and with as much 
 brevity as possible, to establish two points: — 1, That 
 the novel before us very much adopts the language 
 of the play 5 2, That it not unfrequently supplies por- 
 tions of the play, as it was acted in 1607 or J 608, 
 which have not come down to us in any of the print- 
 ed copies of "Pericles." The last is infinitely the 
 more important, because we may thereby recover, 
 pro tanto^ a lost portion of the language of Shake- 
 speare. I proceed to prove, in the first place, that 
 the novel and the play are, in some sort, identical. 
 
 "In the novel, when Pericles, undeterred by the 
 warning of Antiochus, insists upon attempting the so- 
 lution of the enigma, it is said, — 
 
 "But Pericles, armed with these noble armours, Faithfulness 
 and Courage, and making himself fit for death, if death proved 
 fit for him, rephed, that he was come now to meet death willingly." 
 
 In the play, Pericles tells Antiochus, — 
 
 "Like a bold champion I assume the lists, 
 
 Nor ask advice of any other thought. 
 
 But faithfulness and courage." — (Act I, sc. 1.) 
 
 "The following is the account Pericles gives of him- 
 self — in the third person — in the novel: 
 
 "A gentleman of Tyre, his name Pericles, his education 
 been in arts and arms, who, looking for adventures in the world, 
 was, by the rough and unconstanl seas, most unfortunately be- 
 reft both of ships and men, and, after shipwreck, thrown upon 
 that shore." 
 
 How does this passage appear in the play? It runs 
 thus in Shakespeare's verse: — 
 
 "A gentleman of Tyre (my name Pericles, 
 My education been in arts and arms). 
 
XXXll Mr. COLLIER'S 
 
 Who, looking for adventures in the world, 
 Was, by the rough seas, reft of ships and men, 
 And, after shipwreck, driven upon this shore. 
 
 (Act 2, sc. 3.) 
 
 "I shall pursue this point no farther (though it would 
 be easy to multiply proofs), but proceed to the se- 
 cond point, in order to show, as 1 think, beyond con- 
 tradiction, that the novel under consideration contains 
 passages which must have been written by Shake- 
 speare, but which have not come down to us in the 
 play of "Pericles", as printed in quarto in 1609, J 619, 
 and 1630, or in folio in 1664 or 1685. This part 
 of my undertaking is not so easy, because the evid- 
 ence must necessarily be of a negative character: 
 1 have to adduce passages that are hke Shakespeare, 
 but that have never yet been imputed to him. In 
 Act 2, sc. 5, of the play, we meet with these lines, 
 put into the mouth of Pericles: — 
 
 "I came unto your court for honour's cause. 
 
 And not to he a rebel to her state; 
 
 And he that otherwise accounts of me. 
 
 This sword shall prove he's honour's enemy." 
 
 How does this passage, addressed to Antiochus, ap- 
 pear in the novel founded upon the play? Thus: 
 
 "That were it any in liis court, except himself, durst call 
 him traitor, even in his bosom he would write the lie, affirming 
 that he came into his court in search of honour, and not to be 
 a rebel to his state. His Mood was yet untainted, but with Uie 
 heat got by the wrong the king had offered him, and that lie 
 boldly durst and did defy himself, his subjects, and the proudest 
 danger, that either tyranny or treason could inflict upon him." 
 
 "■Therefore, for the passage from "His blood was 
 yet untainted" to the end of the paragraph, there is 
 
[NTRODUCTION. XXXI II 
 
 no parellel in the play 5 and, omitting only a few un- 
 important particles, it will be seen in an instant how 
 easily it may be put into blank-verse. Read it thus: — 
 "His blood was yet untainted, but with heat 
 Got by the wrong the king had offer'd him; 
 And that he boldly durst and did defy him, 
 His subjects, and the proudest danger, that 
 Or tyranny or treason could inflict." 
 
 Would the above have run so readily into blank- 
 verse if it had not, in fact, been so originally written, 
 and recited by the actor when "Pericles" was first 
 performed? 
 
 "Act 3, sc. I, of the play, as printed, relates mainly 
 to the birth of Marina at sea during a storm, — ■ and in 
 the prose novel Pericles thus addresses the infant: — 
 
 "Foot inch of nature ! thou art as rudely welcome 
 
 to the world, as ever princess' babe was, and hast as chiding a 
 nativity as Are, air, earth and water can afford thee." 
 
 "In the play, as printed, we find no corresponding 
 commencement of the apostrophe, "Poor inch of na- 
 ture! ' which must have come from Shakespeare's pen 
 
 — no mere hackney scribe could have invented it, 
 
 — but we meet with the following lines, in other 
 
 respects nearly identical with what we have above 
 
 quoted : — 
 
 "For thou'rt the ruddiest welcome to this world 
 That e'er was prince's child. Happy what follows I 
 Thou hast as chiding a nativity, 
 As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make." 
 
 "Here, "Poor inch of nature!"' is all that is wanting, 
 but, that away, how much of the characteristic beau- 
 ty of the passage is lost! In Act iv. we have the 
 
 Preface C. 
 
XXXIV Mr. COLLIER'S 
 
 famous scene in the brothel, where Marina reforms 
 Lysimachiis and thus addresses him: — 
 
 "Do you know this house to be a place of such resort, and 
 will you come into it? I hear say, you are of honourable parts, 
 and are the Governor of this place." 
 
 This is all she is made to utter in the play at this 
 time, with the exception of the subsequent lines, which 
 come after a short speech of persevering importunity 
 by Lysimachus: 
 
 "If you were born to honour, show it now: 
 If put upon you, make the judgment good. 
 That thought you worthy of it." 
 
 "Instead of these two passages we read as follows 
 ip the prose narrative : — 
 
 "If as you say, my lord, you are the governor, let not your 
 authority, which should teach you to rule others, be the means 
 to make you misgovern yourself. If the eminence of your place 
 came unto you by descent, and the royalty of your blood, let 
 not your life prove your birth a bastard : if it were thrown upon 
 you by opinion, make good that opinion was the cause to make 
 you great. What reason is there in your justice, who hath power 
 over all, to undo any? If you take from me mine honour, you 
 are hke him that makes a gap into forbidden ground, after whom 
 too many enter, and you are guilty of all their evils. My life is yet 
 unspotted, my chastity unstained in thought: then, if your violence 
 deface this building, the workmanship of heaven, made up for 
 good, and not to be the exercise of sin's intemperance, you do 
 kill your own honour, abuse your own justice, and impoverish me." 
 
 "If these thoughts and this language be not the 
 thoughts and the language of Shakespeare, I am much 
 mistaken, and have read him to little purpose. I 
 might add much more, and furnish many other quo- 
 
INTRODUCTION. XXXV 
 
 tations to the same effect, but I hope soon to receive 
 a few copies of the whole of the tract from Ger- 
 many, in a reprinted shape, and then such as think 
 with me, as regards the preceding extracts, will be 
 able to gratify themselves to the full. I have here 
 necessarily adverted to some points that 1 have 
 touched elsewhere 5 but I dare say that few of the 
 readers of the Athenaeum have seen my remarks." 
 
 I should have been happy to have said a great 
 deal more upon the subject, had I been aware, at 
 an earlier period, that some prefatory matter was 
 expected from me by my accomplished friend 
 the Editor of the present Reprint, so well known in 
 Germany for his intimate and critical acquaintance 
 with English dramatic literature. In the ensuing tract 
 we have distinct evidence that Wilkins attended the 
 public performance of Shakespeare's "•Pericles'' for 
 the purpose of taking notes of the drama as it was 
 delivered from the mouths of the Actors 5 and being 
 himself a poet of reputation and genius, he afterwards 
 put his memoranda into a narrative which was publish- 
 ed by one of the most celebrated booksellers of the day. 
 It is this novel, so compounded and composed, that 
 is now, after the lapse of nearly two centuries and 
 a half, most accurately reprinted; and it is my firm 
 conviction that it supplies many passages, written 
 by Shakespeare and recited by the performers, which 
 were garbled, mangled, or omitted in the printed 
 Play of "Pericles," as it has come down to us in the 
 quartos of 1609, 1619 and 1630, and in the folios of 
 
XXXVI Mr. COLLIER'S INTRODUCTION. 
 
 1664 and 1685. May not the same course have 
 been pursued with some of the greater works of 
 Shakespeare, with his "Hamlet," "Macbeth," "Lear," 
 "Tempest" or "Othello"? 
 
 J. PAYNE COLLIER. 
 
THE 
 
 Painfull Aduentures 
 
 oiTericles Prince of 
 
 Tyre. 
 
 'Being 
 
 The irueHiRoryof the Play oiPericUsy as it was 
 lately prefented by the worthy andan- 
 cicnc Poet hhn Cower. 
 
 At Lo nd on 
 
 Trintedh T- ?Jor Nat:Butter, 
 
 / tf o /. 
 
[3] 
 
 iiiiiiillii 
 
 
 i^^^S 
 
 To The Right Woe- 
 
 shipfull and most woorthy Gentle- 
 man Maister Henry Fermor, one of 
 
 his Maiesties Justices of Peace foi^ the Countie 
 
 of Middlesex^ health and eternall PI 
 
 happinesse. 
 
 ^^^^^^^ Ight woorthy Sir, Opinion, that 
 P" in these daies wil make wise men 
 ^ fooles, and the most fooles (with 
 ^ aUttle helpe of their owne arro-[lO] 
 p> gancie) seeme wise, hath made 
 p' me euer feare to throw my selfe 
 ^ vpon the racke of Censure, the 
 ^^^^^IpM which euerie man in this latter 
 Age doth, who is so oiier hardie (o put his witte in [18] 
 print. I see Sir, that a gooiJ coate with rich trappings 
 gets a gay Asse, enlraunce in at a great Gate (and with- 
 in a may stalke freely) when a ragged philosopher with 
 more witte shall be shutte foorth of doores: notwith- 
 standing this 1 know Sir, that Vertue wants no bases [20] "^ 
 to vpholde her, but her owne kinne. In which cer- 
 taine assuraunce, and knowing that your woorthie 
 Selfe, are of (hat neere alliaunce to the noble house of 
 Goodnesse, that you growe"1jut of one stalke. A poore 
 infant of my braine comes naked vnto you, without o-[25] 
 
 a ther 
 
 [1] 
 
 iRi 
 
[4] The Epistle. 
 
 ther clothing than my loue, and craues your hospita- 
 litie. If you take this to refuge, her father dooth pro- 
 mise, that with more labored houres he can inheigh- 
 ' ten your Name and Memorie, and therein shall ap- 
 [8] peere he will not die in'gratefuU. Yet thus much hee 
 dares say, in the behalfe of this, somewhat it contai- 
 neth that may inuite the choicest eie to reade, nothing 
 heere is sure may breede displeasure to anie. So lea- 
 ning your spare houres to the recreation thereof, and 
 [10] my boldenesse now submitting it selfe to your cen- 
 sure, not willing to make a ^^at waie to a little house, 
 I rest 
 
 Most desirous to be held 
 all yours, 
 
 George Wilkins. 
 
The Argument of the whole 
 Historie. 
 
 [5J 
 
 Nliochus the Great, who was the first foun- 
 
 Ader of Antioch, the most famous Cilty in all 
 Syria, hauing one onclie daughter, in the [5] 
 prime and glory of her youth, fell in most 
 vnnaturall loue with her; and what by the 
 power of his perswasions, and feare of his 
 tyranny, he so preuailed with her yeelding heart, that he be- 
 came maister of his desires ; which to continue to himself, his [10] 
 daughter, being for her beauty desired in marriage of many 
 great princes, he made this law. That whoso presumed to de- 
 sire her in marriage, and could not vnfold the meaning of his 
 questions, for that attempt should loose his life. Fearelesse of 
 this Lawe, many Princes adiientured, and in their rashnesse [IS] 
 perished: amongst the number PERICLES the Prince of 
 Tyre, and neighbour to this tyrant King Antiochus , was the 
 last who vnderlooke to resolue this Riddle, which he accor- 
 dingly, through his great wisedorae, performed: and finding 
 both the subtiltie and sinne of the Tyrant, for his ovvne safetie [20] 
 fled secretly from Anliuch backe to Tyre, and there acquain- 
 ted Helycanus a graue Counsellour of his with the procee- 
 dings, as also wilh his present feare what might succeed, from 
 whose counsell he tooke aduise, for a space to leaue his king- 
 dome, and betake himselfe to trauell ; to which yeelding, Pe- [28] 
 rides puts to sea, ariues at Tharsus, which he finds (thorow the 
 dearth of corne) in much distresse : he there relieues Cleon and 
 Dyonysa with their distressed City, wilh the prouision which 
 he brought of purpose; but by his good Counsellour Hely- 
 canus hearing newes of Antiochus death , he intends for Tyre, [30] 
 puts againe to Sea, suffers shipwracke, his shippes and men 
 
 A 2 all 
 
[6] The Argument, 
 
 all lost, till (as it were) Fortune lyred with his mis-happes, he 
 is ihrowne vpon the shoare, releeued by certaine poore Fi- 
 shermen, and by an Armour of his which they by chaunce 
 dragged vp in their neltes, his mis-fortunes being a little re- 
 [8] paired, Pericles arriues at the Court of good Symonides King 
 of PentupoUs, where through his noblenesse both in Arraes 
 and Arts, he winnes the loue of faire Thaysa the kings daugh- 
 ter, and by her fathers consent marries her. 
 
 In this absence of his, and, for which absence the Tyriam 
 [10] ills subiects muteny, would elect Helycanus (whome Pericles 
 ordained his substitute in his absence) their King, which pas- 
 sion of theirs Helycanus by his graue perswasions subdewed, 
 and wonne them to goe in quest of their lost Prince Pericles: 
 In this search he is found, and with his wife Thaysa, who is 
 [IS] now with childe, and Lycorida her Nurse; hauing taken leaue. 
 of his kingly Father, puts againe for Tyre, but with the ter- 
 rour of a tempest at Sea, his Quecne falles in trauell, is deli- 
 uered of a daughter, whome he names Marina, in which 
 childe-birlh his Queene dies, she is throwne ouer boorde, at 
 [20] departure of whome Pericles altereth his course from Tyre, 
 being a shorter cut, to his hoste Clean in Tharsus; hee there 
 leaues his yoong daughter to be fostered vp , vowing to him- 
 selfe a solitary & pensiue life for the losse of his Queene. 
 
 Thaysa thus supposed dead, and in the seas buried, is the 
 
 [23] next morning on the shore taken vp at Ephcsus by Cerimon a 
 
 most skilful! Physilion, who by his Arte practised vpon this 
 
 Queene, so preuailed, that after fiue houres inlraunced, she 
 
 is by his skill brought to able health againe, and by her owne 
 
 request, by him placed to hue a Votary in Dianaes Temple at 
 
 [ZQi\ Ephcsus. Marina Pericles sea-borne daughter, is by this gro- 
 
 wen to discrecle yeares, she is enuied of Dyonysa Cleans wife, 
 
 her foster mother, for that Marinaes perfection excecdeth a 
 
 daughter of hers, Marina by this enuy of hers should haue 
 
 beene murlhered, but being rescued by certaine Pyrates, is 
 
 [3H] as it were reserued to a greater mishap, for by them she is ca- 
 
 ried to Metelyne, sold to the deuils broker a bawd, to haue bin 
 
 trained 
 
The Argument. [7] 
 
 trained vp in that infection, shee is courted of mony, and how 
 wonderfully she ^reserues her chastitie. 
 
 Pericles rcturnes from Tj/re toward Tharsus, to visile the 
 hospitahle Clean, Dyonysa, and his yoong daughter Marina, 
 where by Dyoiiysaes dissembling teares, and a Toombe that [5] 
 was erected for her, Pericles is brought to beleeue, that his 
 Marina lies there buryed, and that shee died of her naturall 
 death, for whose losse bee teares his haire, Ihrowes off his 
 garments, forsweares the societie of men, or any other com- 
 fort. In which passion for many monelhs continuing, hee at [10] 
 last arriues at Melelyne, when being scene and pittied by Ly- 
 simachus the Gouernour, his daughter (though of him vn- 
 knowen so) is by the Gouernour sent for, who by her excel- 
 lent skill in Song, and pleasantnesse in discourse, with rela- 
 ting the story of her owne mishap, shee so winnes againe her [15] 
 fathers lost sences, that hee knowes her for his childe, shee 
 him for her father; in which ouer-ioy, as if his sences were 
 nowe all confounded, Pericles falles asleepe, where in a 
 dreame he is by Diana warned to goe to Ephesus, and there 
 to make his sacrifice. Pericles obayes, and there comes to the [20] 
 knowledge of Thaysa his wife , with their seuerall loyes 
 that they three so strangely diuided, are as strangely mette. 
 Lyshnachus the Gouernour marrieth Marina, and Pericles 
 leauing his mourning, causeth the bawde to be burned. Of 
 his reuenge to Cleon and Dyonysa, his rewarding of the Fi- [23] 
 shermen that releeued him, his iustice toward the Pyrals that 
 made sale of his daughter, his returne backe to his kingdome, 
 and of him and his wifes deaths. Onely intreating the Rea- v/ 
 der to receiue this Historie in the same maner as it was vnder 
 the habite of ancient Gower the famous English Poet, by the [30] 
 Kings Maiesties Players excellently presented. 
 
 A ? Tfi^ 
 
[81 
 
 The names of the Personages mentioned 
 in this Historie. 
 
 John Gower the Presenter. 
 
 Anliockus that built Antioch \ 
 [5] His daughter. 
 
 Pericles Prince of Tyre. 
 
 Thalyart a villaine. 
 
 Helycanus i Twoo graue 
 
 Eschines ) Counsellors. 
 [10] Cleon Gouernor of Tharsus. 
 
 Dyonysa his wife. 
 
 Two or three Fishermen. 
 
 Symonides king of Pentapolis ^ 
 
 Thaysa his daughter. 
 
 Fiue Princes. 
 
 Lycorida a Nurse. 
 
 Cerimon a Phisilion. 
 
 Marina Pericles daughter. 
 I A Murlherer. 
 ' Pirates. 
 , A Bawde. 
 
 A Lena. 
 
 A Pander. 
 
 Lysimachus Gouernour of 
 Meleline. 
 
 Diana Goddesse of chastitie. 
 
[9] 
 
[10] 
 
THE 
 
 Painfull Aduentdres 
 
 of PERICLES Prince 
 
 of Tyre. 
 
 The first Chapter. 
 
 [S] 
 
 lfl|||er£in Gower bcfrribes l)o«) Antiochus furnameb tl)c 
 tip ©reot rommittcli in«|l will) t)i0 huj)l)tcr, oiil> l)c- 
 l)cal>Ei> fud) 08 f«ei> t0 l)cr for mnrriogc, if ll)eij roulb not 
 refolue ^is qucftton, piadng tl)eir tieoka opoii tl)e top of 
 I)i3 Ca|llc flote, rol)Erfbi) to oftonJ|l) oil otijcrs tl)ot romtLio] 
 to attempt tt)e litte. 
 
 ^ He great and mighty Ring ;Jltttto- 
 ^ d)U5, who was as cruell in ty- 
 ^ rauny, as hee was powerful! in 
 p" possessions , seeking more to en- [13] 
 ^ rich himselfe by shewes, than to 
 J? renown his name by vertue, cau- 
 sed to be built the goodly Cittie of 
 :2lntiod) in S gin a, and called it af- 
 ter liis owne name, as the clijef- [20] 
 est seate of all his Dominions, and priucipall place of his 
 abode. This ;aitti0ii)ii)5 had increase by his Qu(5ene one 
 onely daughter, so excellent in beauty, as if Nature and 
 all Perfection had long studied to seeme onely absolute at 
 her birth. This Ladie growing to like ripenesse of age, as [23] 
 sh(5e had full endowment of outward ornaments, was re- 
 sorted 
 
 m 
 
 
 WW' 
 
 
 « 
 Jii 
 
 lii 
 
 mm 
 
 m 
 
 
 
[12] tl)f patitxnt 
 
 sorted vnto by many youthfull Princes, who desired her in 
 marriage, offering to make her loynture as noble in pos- 
 sessions, as sh6e by beauty was royall in her selfe. While 
 the King her father euermore requiring deliberation vpon 
 [5] whome rather than other to bestow this his so inestimable 
 a lewell, he beganne sodainely to haue an vnlavvfuU con- 
 cupiscence to growe in himselfe , which h6e augmented 
 with an outragious flame of cruelty sparlding in his hart, 
 and accompted her so worthy in the world, that sh6e was 
 
 [10] too worthy for any, but himselfe. Thus being wrapped 
 with this vnnaturall loue, he sustained such a conflict in 
 his thoughts , wherein Madnesse puts Modesty to flight, 
 giuing ouer his afTecJions to the vnlawfulnesse of his 
 will, rather then subdued them with the remembraunce 
 
 [18] of the euill h6e had then in practise, so that not long after 
 comming into his daughters Chamber, and commaun- 
 ding all that were n6ere at her attendance to depart, as if 
 he had had some carefull and fatherly busines, the necessi- 
 tie of whose import desired some priuate conference with 
 
 [20] her, he beganne to make motion of that vniust loue to her, 
 which euen Lust it selfe, had it not in a father b6ene so bra- 
 sed with impuclencie, would haue blusht but euen to haue 
 thought vpon. Much perswasion , though to little reason, he 
 vsed, as, that he was her falher, whome sh6e was bound 
 
 [25] to obey, he was a King that had power to commaund, he 
 
 was in loue, and his loue was resistlesse, and if resistlesse, 
 
 therefore pittilesse , either to youth , blood , or beauty : In 
 
 ' briefc, he was a tyrant and would execute his will. These 
 
 wordes thus vttered with that vehement passion which 
 
 [30] such sinnefull Loners fltte themselues vnto in such desires, 
 - and such immodest sillables were by him contracted^ toge- 
 ther, that my penne grubbes to recite them, and made the 
 schoole of his daughters thoughts, (wherein were neuer 
 taught such cuills) to wonder at the strangenesse , as vn- 
 
 [3S] derstanding them not, and at last, to demaund of her vn- 
 kingly father, what hee meant by this, when he forget- 
 ting 
 
of pnicles prince of Sgw. [i3] 
 
 thing the feare of heauen, loue to his childe, or reputation* 
 amongst men; though by her withstoode with prayers and 
 teares, (while the power of weakenesse could withstand) 
 throwing away all regard of his owne honesty, Me vnloo- 
 sed the knotte of her virginitie, and so left this w6eping[5] 
 braunch to wyther by the stocke that brought her foorth; so 
 fast came the wet from the sentinells of her ransackt cittie, 
 that it is improper to say they dropped and rayned downe 
 teares, but rather, that with great flouds they powred 
 out water. It is beyond imagination to thinke whether [lOj 
 her eyes had power to receiue her sorrowes brine so fast as 
 her heart did send it to them. In briefe, they were nowe 
 no more to be called eyes, for grie/es water had blinded 
 them : and for wordes, she had not one to vtter, for be- 
 twixt her hearts intent, and tongues vtterance, there lay [IS] 
 such a pjle of lamentable cogitations, that she had no lei- ^ 
 sure to make vp any of thera into wordes, till at the last, a 
 Nurse that attended her comming in, and finding her face 
 blubbered with teares , which sljee knew were strange 
 guests to the table of her beauty, first standing in_ amaze [20] 
 thereat, at last, by the care sh6e had in charge of her, be- 
 ing more inheartned ; Deare childe and Madam (quoth 
 sh6e) why sit you so sorrowfully? which question, getting 
 way betwixt griefe and her vtteraunce. Oh my beloued 
 Nurse , answered the Lady, euen now two noble names [25] 
 were lost within this Chamber, the name of both a Fa- 
 ther, and a Child. The meaning of which secret the Nurse 
 vnderstanding not, sh6e intreated her to be more plaine, 
 that by knowing the cause of her griefe, sh6e might vse 
 meanes to redresse it, or else, that her selfe in her owne [30] 
 wisedome would alay the violence of that tempest which 
 did wrong to so goodly a building. But sh6e loath to be the 
 bellowes of her owne shame, and blushing more to re- 
 hearse than her Father was to commit, sate sighing, and 
 continued silent, vntill Mtiod)U$^ not satisfied with the[3S] 
 fruite obtained by his former desire, returned, and like 
 " B him 
 
[14] 2t pottmw of t\}t patitffitU :^Mmtnxt& 
 
 him that by stealth hath filched a taste from foorth a goodly 
 Orchard , is not therewith contented , but eyther wait- 
 eth his opportunity to steale, till h6e be glutted with his 
 stealth, or so aduenturous, that h6e is taken, to his euer- 
 
 [5] lasting shame j so this 2ttttiad)US comming backe into the 
 Chamber, and finding his daughter as full of wette, as 
 winter is, commaunded the absence of the Nurse (which 
 sh6e accordingly obeying) he beganne to perswade her, that 
 actions past are not to be redeemed, that whats in secret 
 
 [10] done, is no sinne, since the concealement excuses it, that 
 euills are no euills, if not thought vpon, and that himselfe 
 her Father had that power to gag all mouthes from speak- 
 ing, if it were knowen. Besides her state, his greatnes, 
 his kingdome, her beauty, were ornaments enow to draw 
 
 [IS] the greatest Princes to ioyne with her in marriage, and 
 h6e would further it. So with these and such like perswa- 
 sions preuayling with his daughter, they long continued 
 in these foule and vniust imbracements, till at last, the 
 custome of sinne made it accompted no sinne. And while 
 
 [20] this wicked Father shewed the countenaunce of a louing 
 sire abroade in the eyes of his subiects, notwithstanding 
 at home he reioyceth to haue played the parte of a husband 
 with his owne childe, with false resemblaunce of marri- 
 age: and to the intent he might alwayes enioy her, he in- 
 
 [23] uenled a strange pollicie, to compel] away all suters from 
 desiring her in marriage, by propounding strange questi- 
 ons, the effect and true meaning whereof was thus pub- 
 lished in writing, il)|)0«a attcmptiti) attlr wfoluttl) ittf of 
 ma Ciucftion, fl)aU l)rtwe mg I)augl)tftr tn iBtfi;: fiut tBl)flf0 «t' 
 
 [30] tcmptctl) ttittr failcti), fljall loofc l)i« l)ealr. 
 
 Which will of bis, when Fame had blowne abroade, 
 and that by this his Lawe there was found a possibilitie 
 for the obtayning of this Lady, such was the singular re- 
 port of her surpassing beautie, that many Princes, and 
 
 [35] men of great Nobililie, to that purpose repaired thither, 
 who not b6eing able to explane his Riddle propounded, lost 
 
 their 
 
of |)mflf0 pxmce of Sgrc. [is] 
 
 their heades, which to the terrifying of others that should 
 attempt the like, were placed for open view on the toppe 
 of his Castle gate. 
 
 The second Chapter. 
 
 §m Pericles flrrJDJng ot Antioch, xifehth tl)e ^injjs Ollue- m '^ 
 
 f\m: Jlnl> I)0UJ Thalyart Antiochus S'tcUJarlr IDAS feiit 
 
 to nturtl)er l)im. 
 
 Hilest ;Jtnti0d)itS continued thus exercising 
 his tyranies on the Hues of seuerall prin- 
 ces, |)mfU« the Prince of %^tCj wonne[lO] 
 with the wonderfuU report of this Ladies 
 beauty , was (as other Princes before) 
 drawne to the vndertaking of this despa- 
 rale aduenture ; and approching n6ere ;Jtntt0cl) , where 
 there were no sooner newes that he was comming, but [13] 
 there was as great a preparation for the receiuing of him: 
 the Lords and P6eres in their richest ornaments to inter- 
 taine him , the people with their greedy and vnsatisfled 
 eyes to gaze vpon him; for in that part of the world there 
 was in those dayes no Prince so noble in Armes, or excel- PO] / 
 lent in Artes, and had so generall and deserued a report 
 by fame as pcndc$ Prince of ^gw. Which drew both 
 P6ere and People, with a ioyfull and fr6e desire to allow 
 him their imbracements , and to wish him happy successe, 
 requiring no other but such a happy Soueraigne to hope [23] 
 in : for so cunningly had Antiochus dealt in this incest 
 with his daughter, that it was yet vnsuspected of the n&e- 
 I'cst that attended him. With which solemnity and suffra- 
 ges, being brought into the presence of the tyrant, and by 
 him demaunded the cause of his arriuall at 2llttt0d): and [30] 
 being by the Prince answered , that it was in loue to his 
 daughter, and in hope to enioy her by resoluing of his que- 
 
 B 2 stion. 
 
[16J 21 pnttmtc 0f tlje ^jainefuU ^ttiutnturcs 
 
 stion. ;antt0d)U« then first beganne to perswade him from 
 the enterprise, and to discourage him from his procee- 
 dings, by shewing him the frighlfull heads of the former 
 ' Princes, placed vpon his Castle wall, and like to whome 
 [5] he must expect himselfe to be, if hke them (as it was most 
 hke) h6e failed in his attempt. But |)mclc» armed with 
 these noble armours, Faithfulnesse and Courage, and 
 ' making himselfe fllte for Death , if Death prooued fitte for 
 him, replyed. That he was come now to m6ete Death wil- 
 [10] lingly, if so were his misfortune, or to be made euer for- 
 tunate, by enioying so glorious a beauty as was inthrond 
 in his princely daughter, and was there now placed be- 
 ^ fore him : which the tyrant receiuing with an angry brow, 
 threw downe the Riddle, bidding him, since perswasi- 
 [15] ons could not alter him, to reade and die, being in him- 
 selfe confident the mysterie thereof was not to be vnfolded: 
 which the Prince taking vp, read aloude, the purpose of 
 which was in these wordes: 
 
 J am n0 uipcr, get 3 fcctre 
 [20] ©n motljtrs flcf|), tl^nt XiiXi mc brcclrc; 
 
 ,3 fmigljt a IjuebitnJr, in u)l)id) labour 
 J( foxnxO tljat ktnlincffc from a fatljcr: 
 iter's £atl)ct^ Soitnc, ana ^usbanti milDc, 
 3 MoH)CV^ itJifc, ant» get |)i$ €})\llBe: 
 [23] i^oiu tl)ts maj) b«, anii g£t in troo, 
 
 M gou mill Ituc, rcfoluc it gou. 
 
 Which secret, whilest Prince l^triclcs; was reading, 
 5tntiod)U« daughter, whether it were, that sh6e now lo- 
 thed that vnnecessary custome in which sh6e had so long 
 [30] continued , or that her owne affection taught her to be in 
 loue with his perfections, our storie leaues vnmcnlioned:ll 
 but this for certaine, all the time that the Prince was 
 studying with what truelh to vnfolde this darke (Itni^ma, 
 Desire flew in a robe of glowing blushes into her ch6ekes, 
 
 and 
 
of pexxcii& prina of Sjjw. [17] 
 
 and loue inforced her to deliuer thus much from hir owne 
 tongue, that he was sole soueraigne of all her wishes, and 
 he the gentleman (of all her eies had euer yet hehckle) to 
 whome sh6e wished a thriuing happinesse. By which 
 time the Prince hauing fully considered vpon what he had [S] 
 read, and found the meaning, both of the secret, and 
 their abhominable sinnes, 2lnti0d)«» rising vp, deman- 
 ded the solution of his Question, or to attend the sentence 
 of his death. But the gentle Prince wisely foreknowing, 
 that it is as dangerous to play with tyrants euills, as the [lO] 
 Fhe to sport with the Candles flame, rather s6emed to 
 dissemble what he knew, than to discouer his insight to 
 2lntioxl)WS knowledge, yet so circumspectly, that 2lntiO' 
 d)US suspected , or at least , his owne knowen guilt made 
 him so suspect, that hee had found the meaning of his foule [15] 
 desire, and their more foule actions ; /^and seeming (as it 
 were) then to pitty him whom now in soule he hated, and 
 that he rather required his future happinesse, than any 
 blemish to his present fortunes, he tolde him, that for the 
 honour of his name, the noblenesse of his woorth, nay his [20] 
 owne dcere and present loue to him (were it not against 
 the dignity and state of his owne loue) in his tender and 
 princely disposition, he could from the whole world select 
 him as a choice husband for his daughter, since hee found 
 him so farre wide from reuealing of the secret; yet thus [25] 
 farre bee should perceiue his loue should extend towardes 
 him, which before time had not beene scene to stretch it 
 selfe to any of those decaied princes, "of whose falls, his eics ' 
 were carefull witnesses, that for forty dayes he gaue him 
 onely longer respite , if by which time (and with aU the [30] 
 indeuours, counsell and aduise h6e could vse) he can flnde 
 out what was yet concealed from him, it should be eui- 
 dcnt how gladly he would reioyce to ioy in such a sonnc, 
 rather than haue cause of soitow by his vntimely ruinc : 
 And in the meane time, in his owne Court, by the roy- [35] 
 altie of his entertainment h6e should perceiue his welcom. 
 
 B 3 With 
 
[18] 21 pottmif nf tl)c :pamffuU Sltnirnturcs 
 
 With which, and olher such like gratulations their pre- 
 sences being diuided, 2ltttiorl)li« betooke himseife to his 
 Chamber , and princely |)mcUs to diligent consultations 
 of his present estate, where when bee had a while conside- 
 [5] red with himseife, that what be had found, was true, and 
 this substantially was the true meaning of bis Riddle, h6e 
 was become both father, sonne, and husband by his vn- 
 comely and abhorred actions with his owne child, and sh6e 
 
 V a deuourer of her mothers flesh, by the vnlawful couplings 
 [10] with her owne father,»^and the defiling of her mothers bed, 
 
 and that this curtesie of ;atttiod3iiSi toward him, was but 
 his hypocrisie, to haue his sinne concealed, till he found fit 
 occasion to take fit reuenge (by the instrumets of tyrants,) 
 poyson , treason , or by any meanes , he resolued himseife 
 
 [15] with all expedition, (the next darknesse being bis best con- 
 ductor,) to flie backe to Cgrt, which be effecting, and Zn^ 
 tto4)U$ being now priuate in his lodging, and ruminating 
 with himseife, that |Jjncl£Si had found out the secret of his 
 euill, which h6e in more secret had committed; and know- 
 
 [20]ing, that he had now power to ripjiim open to the world, & 
 make his name so odious, that as now heauen did, so 
 at the knowledge thereof all good men would contemne 
 him. > And in this study, not knowing how otherwise to 
 helpe himseife from this reproofe, he hastily calleth for one 
 
 [28] 'Cijalgart^ ~vvho was Steward of his bousholde, and in 
 many things before had receiued the imbracement of his 
 minde; this Cljalgart, (as ptticlta fore-thought,) b6e pre- 
 sently bribde with gold , and furthered with poyson , to be 
 
 V this harmles gentlemans_ executioner. To which purpose, 
 [30] as h6e was about to receiue his othe, there came hastijy 
 
 a Messenger that brought him newes, the ^Djjrtiin shippes 
 were that night departed his harbor, and that by intelli- 
 gence h(5e had learned the Prince also was fled for ^grc: 
 at whose escape 2llttiod)XlS storming, but not desisting from 
 33] his former practise, h6e commaunded his murlhering mi- 
 nister iEljalgat't, to dispatch his best performance after him, 
 
 some- 
 
of |)fnclfs ptince of Sgrc. [19] 
 
 sometime perswading him , at others threatning him , in 
 'Cjjrc to s6e him, in 'Egrc to kil him, or back to :H.ntiod) neuer 
 to returne, which villainous mind of his as ready to y6eld, 
 as the tyrant was to commaund. EljaUttVt in all secresie is 
 sbipt from 2tnttod), while JiJtricks in this interim is arri- [5] 
 ued at ^JJl'c, where, knowing what was past, and fearing 
 what might succeed, not to himself, but for the care he hadof 
 his subiects, remembring his power, too weake if occasion 
 were offred, to contend with the grealnes of ;2lnti0d)il$ : he 
 was so troubled in mind, that no aduise of counsell could [10] 
 perswade him, no dehghts of the eye content him, neither 
 any pl^a^e whatsoeuer comfort him, but still taking to 
 heart, that should 2lnti0d)US make warre vpon him, as 
 fearing lest he should speake his shame, which he intended 
 not to reueale , his misfortune should be the rujne of his [13] 
 harmelesse people. 
 
 In this sorrowe consisting, one ^filgcanws a graue and 
 wise Counsellor of his (as a good Prince is euer knowne 
 by his prudent Counsell) as much gr6eued in mind for his 
 Princes distemperature , as his Prince was troubled [20] 
 with the feare of his subiects mishap, came hastily into the 
 chamber to him , and finding him so distasting mirth , that 
 he abandoned all familiar society, he boldely beganne to 
 reprooue him, and not sparingly tolde him, he did not well 
 so to abuse himselfe, to waste his body there with pyning [23] 
 sorrow, vpon whose safety depended the lines and prospe- 
 rity of a whole kingdome, that it was ill in him to doe it, 
 and no lesse in his counsell to suffer him, without contra- 
 dicting it. /^' At which, although the Prince, bent Jiis brow 
 steamely against him, he left not to go forward, but plain- [30] 
 Jy,_tolde him, it was as fit for him being a Prince to heare 
 of his ow'ne erronr, as it was lawfull for his authority to 
 commaund, that while he lined so shut vp, so vnseene, so 
 carelesse of his goucrnment, order might be disorder for all 
 him, and what detriment soeuer his subiects should re- [33] 
 ceiue by this his neglect, it were iniustice to be required at 
 
 his 
 
[20] 21 pattcntf of tljf pttiitffitU 3ltiuentuvfSi 
 
 his hands, which chicling of this good olde Lord, the gentle 
 Prince curteously receiuing , tooke him into his armes, 
 -^ thankt him that he was no flatterer , and commaunding 
 him to seat himselfe by him, he from poynt to poynt related 
 [5] to him all the o ccurrent s past, and that his present sorrow 
 was for the feare he had of ;Jlitttad)iis tyranny, his present 
 studies were for the good of his subiects, his present care 
 was for the continuing safety of his kingdome, of which 
 himselfe was a member, Avhich for slacknesse chide him: 
 
 [loj which vprightnes of this Prince calling feax.es into the 
 olde mans ekss, and compelling his kn6es to the earth, he 
 humbly asked his pardon, confirming that what he had 
 spoke, sprung from the power of his dutie, and grew not 
 from the nature of disobedience. When |Jctriflc$ no longer 
 
 [is'] suffring such honored aged knees to stoope to his youth, lif- 
 ting him vp, desired of him that his counsell now would 
 teach him how to auoide that danger, which his feare gaue 
 him cause to mistrust: which in this manner was by the 
 good i^clicanus aduised, and by princely pcticUs yielded 
 
 [20] vuto. That he should forthwith betake himselfe to traucl, 
 
 keeping his intent whither, as [jriuatc from his subiects, as 
 
 his iourney was suddaine, that vpon his trust he should 
 
 leaue the gouernment , grounding which counsel vpon this 
 
 ,/ principle. Absence abates that edge that Presence whets. 
 
 [2b] In breefe, ^UcricUs knew ^tlifctnujs trusty, and consented : so 
 with store of corne and all necessaries fit for a kingly voy- 
 age, he in secret hath shipt himselfe from lEgvc ^clgtniuis 
 is protector of the kingdome in his absence : and our Story 
 now hath brought vs to the landing of ®l}aUai't, with a bo- 
 
 [30] dy fraught as full of treason against |Jcrirlcs, as his mai- 
 ster 2lnticrd)US was of tyranny, who no sooner a shore, but 
 V he had his eares fild with the geiierall lamentation of the 
 Ejjrtan people, the aged sighed, the youth wept, all mour- 
 ned, helping one anolher how to make vp sorrow to the 
 
 [33] highest_Jieape, as if with the absence of their Prince they 
 had lost tTieir Prince, and with his losse they had present 
 
 feeling 
 
of fenclee pxincc nf Z^xc. [21] 
 
 fueling of a succeeding ouerthrow, which the vilaine vnder- 
 standing, and finding himselfe, both bereft of his purpose, 
 and his maister of his intent, he, as traitors do, stole backe 
 to :antt0d) resoluing 2lntiOfl)u« of what he knew: by which 
 time, the clamors of the multitude being for a time pacified [8] 
 by the vvisedome of ^clicaims, and the peace of the common 
 wealth by his prudence defended , our princely ^cricks 
 with spread sailes, faire winds, and full successe, is now 
 arriued at '€\)atfas. 
 
 The third Chapter. no, 
 
 |ouj Pericles arriutng nt Tharsus rclffufb tl)c Cittie, ol- 
 inost f«mJ|l)fD for luont of fook, anli Ijonj Helycanus fcnt 
 Ijim ujorji of ii)l)at i|al> liappencli at Tyi-e, m\{f l)J8 kpar- 
 
 turc from Tharsus. 
 
 Rince ^pcriclts by the aduise of his good [15] 
 
 P Counsellor ^cUcaitti$, hauing left Cgte, 
 
 and intended his whole course for IJDIjaC' 
 f«S, of which City lord Clcon was gouer- 
 nor, who at this instance with jElgnitgfa 
 his wife, were relating the present misc- [20] 
 ries wherein themselues and their Citty %\)atfu$ consisted: 
 the ground of which forced lamentation was, to s6e the 
 power of change, that this their City, who not two sum- 
 mers yomiger, did so excell in pompe, and bore a state, 
 whom all hir neighbors enuied for her greafnes, to whom [23] 
 strangers resorted, as to the schoole of variety, where they 
 might best enrich their vnderstandings with experience, 
 whose houses were like so many Courts for Kings, rather 
 than sleeping places for subiecis, whose people were curi- 
 ous in their diet, rich in attire, enuious in lookes, where [301 
 was plenty in aboundance, pride in fulnesse, nothing in 
 scarcenesse, but Charitie and Loue, the dignitie of whose 
 
 C pallats 
 
[22] 21 pottfrne of tljc pntnefuU Jltmcnturfs 
 
 pallats the whole riches of Nature could hardly satisfle, the 
 ornaments of whose attire Art it selfe with all inuention 
 could not content, are now so altered, that in steade of 
 -j' dowlny beds, they make their pillowes on boords , in stead 
 [5] of full furnished tables, hunger calles now out for so much 
 bread, as may but satisfle life: sacke-cloth is now their 
 wearing instead of silke, teares instead of inticing glaun- 
 - ces, are now the acquaintance of their eyes, in briefe, riot 
 hath h6ere lost all her dominion, and now is no excesse, but 
 [lO]jwhats in sorrow, h6ere standes one weeping, and there 
 V lies another dying, so sharpe arc hungers teeth, and so ra- 
 • uenous the deuouring mouth of famine, that all pittie is 
 exiled betw6ene the husband and the wife, nay all tender- 
 nesse betw6ene the mother and the children, faintnesse 
 [IS] hath now got that emperie ouer strength , there is none so 
 I whole to rel6eue the sicke, neither haue the liiiing sufflcie- 
 encie to giue buriall to the dead. Thus while this Clcoit 
 Lord Gouernour of ®l)at'fus, and Ugougfd his Lady,*^vitli' 
 interchanging wordes were describing the sorrows which 
 [20] their almost vnpeopled Citty felt , who from the height of 
 , , multiplication were substracted , almost to nothing : (for, 
 i what is life,) if it want sustenaunce? a fainting messenger 
 came slowely into them , his fearefull lookes described 
 that he brought sorrowe, and in slowe wordes h6e dehue- 
 [25] red this, that vpon their coastes there was discouered a 
 fl6ete of shippes making thither ward , which CUoit suppo- 
 sing to be an army, which some neighbour nation (taking 
 aduantage of their present mishap) had sent for their vtter 
 ouerlhrowe , h6e commaunded the bringer , vpon their 
 [30] landing, to this purpose to salute their Gcnerall, That 
 Z\)avfn» was subdewed before their comming, and that it 
 was small conquest to subdew where there was no abilitie 
 to resist, that they desired but this, that their citty might 
 still stand, and that for the riches which their prosperitie 
 [33] had purchased, they freely resigned to them, Ihey though 
 their enemies, (for humanities^sake) in the place of bree- 
 ding 
 
0f paide^ prince of Sgw. [23] 
 
 ding, would affoord them buriall. ^tl\t\.t% by this is lan- 
 ded, and no sooner entred into their vnshut gates, but his 
 princely eies were partaking witnesses of their widowed 
 desolation. The messenger by this also hath deliuered the 
 pleasure of the Gouernour, which the Prince weeping to [8] 
 attend, who rather came to rel6eue than to ransacke, he 
 demaunded of the fellow, where the Gouernour was, and 
 foorthwith . to be conducted to him , which being effected , in 
 the market place they mette, where |)mcU« without fur- 
 ther hinderance dehuered to him, that his thoughts were [10] 
 deceued, to suppose them for enimies, who were now come 
 to them for comfortable friends, and those his shippes 
 which their fears might cause them to think were fraugh- 
 ted with their destruction, were intreasured with corne 
 for their rehefe: ^t which the f6eble soules not hauing[18] 
 strength enough to giue a showte for ioy, gazing on him, 
 and heauen, fell on their knees, and wept. But |)ett- 
 cUs going to the place of Judgement, causing all the li- 
 uing to be assembled thither, thus freely deliuered to them: 
 You Cittizens of ^Ijarfat^, whom penury of victual pin- [20] 
 cheth at this present. Know you, that I |)£mtcs Prince 
 of ®gte am come purposely to rel^eue you, in respect of 
 which benefit, I doubt not but you will be thus thankefull 
 as to conceale my arriuing h6ere, and for a while to giue 
 me safe harborage , and hospitalitie for my shippes and [25] 
 men, since by the tyranny of ;Ztttti0d)U« , though not dri- 
 uen, yet for a while 1 am desirous to leaue mine owne 
 Countrey, and continue my residence heere Avith you, in 
 recompence of which loue, I haue brought with me a hun- 
 dred thousand bushells of wheate, which equally for your [30] 
 rel6efe shall be distributed amongst you, each man paying 
 for euery bushell eight peeces of brasse, the price bestowed 
 thereon in my owne Country. At which, as if the verie 
 name of bread only had power to renew strength in them, 
 they gaue a great showt, offering their Citty to him as [35] 
 his owne, and their repaired strength in his defence: with 
 
 C 2 which 
 
[24] 31 patternc of tljc pciinefuU ZMeixtnte^ 
 
 which come their necessities being supplied, and euery 
 man wiUingly paying his eight pieces of brasse, as l]i5e had 
 appoynted, |)£nclfS demaunded for the Gouernour and 
 the chiefe men of the gouernement, disdainining to b6e a 
 [S] Merchant to sell corne , but out of his princely magnifi- 
 cence, bestowed the whole reuenew thereof to the beau- 
 tifying of their Citty. Which when the Cittizens vnder- 
 stoode, to gratifie these large henefltes, and to acknow- 
 ledge him their patron and releeuer sent them by the gods, 
 
 [10] ihey erected in the Market place a monument in the nie- 
 moriall of him, and made his statue of brasse, standing in 
 a Charriot, holding corne in. his right hand, and spjirning 
 it wilh his left foote, and on the bases of the pillar where- 
 on it stoode, was ingrauen in great Letters this inscripti- 
 
 [15] on: fetxclca |)rhtf£ of^^tc gattc a gift »nt0 tljc Citg ofKjjaf' 
 fu», iDljcfcbg l)e JjcUiictrelK it ftom cvncH laeati). So a while 
 we desire tlie Reader to leaue |)mcl£« heartning vp the de- 
 cayed Cittizens of ll I) a r f u s , and turne their eyes to good 
 jQclgcatius; at 'Cgrf. 
 
 [20] Good j^flgcaitus as prouident at home, as his Prince 
 
 was prosperous abroade, let no occasion slip wherein h6e 
 
 J might send word to '2D|)arfus of what occiirrents soeuer had 
 
 happened in his absence, the chiefe of which was, that 
 
 'iiD|)al8art by 2lntiod)u« was sent, with purpose to mur- 
 
 [25]ther him, and that ;2tnttod)US, though fayhng in his pra- 
 ctise by his absence, s6emed not yet to desist from hke in- 
 tents, but that he againe, suborned such hke Instruments 
 to the like treason, aduising him wiihall for his more cer- 
 taine safetie, for a while to leaue Cl)ftrftt», as a refuge too 
 
 [30] nfiere the reach of the tyrant. To which |)£nclcs consen- 
 ting, h(5e takes his leaue of his hoste <mion and iJgangfa, 
 and the Cittizens as sory to leaue him , as sorrow can b6e 
 for the lacke of comfort. 
 
 The 
 
of |)mcks priitre of Sgw. [-25] 
 
 The fourth Chapter. 
 
 §)m Pericles pfs foorti) to Sco, fnfm fl)i})ii)rfrkc, is rclic- 
 uclr bp ftrtntnc jjoore /ifljermcn, at laft arriucs at Simo- 
 nides. Court, kinfl of Pentapolis, «)|)cre in feotfs of Jlrmcs 
 l)e£ erffektl) oil tl)e prinrts tt)ot roiiie to Ijonor tl)E birtl) [S] 
 boD of t)is foire liousl)tcr Thaysa, onit luitl) prpofe alfo 
 to fue to i)'n for mnrrioflc. 
 
 P 
 
 Rince paicUs hauing thus reI6eued ^l^rttr- 
 fus, and bin warnd (for the auoydance of a 
 greater danger) by his good Counsellour [10] 
 ^cl^cmus to forsake the Cilie, though not 
 without much sorrow of the Ciltizens for 
 his de parture, he is once againe at sea, see- 
 king aiiew ref uge, and accounting any countrey his best 
 Inne, where he found the best safety. No sooner were his [15] 
 woodden castles floating on the vnconstant d6epes : but as 
 if iUcptiittc himselfe , chiefe soueraigne of that watery em- ' 
 pire, would haue come in person to haue giuen calme gra- 
 tulations, and friendly welcomes to this curteous prince, 
 the whole nation of the flouds were at quiet , there were [20] 
 no windes blustering, no surges rising, no raines showr- 
 ing, no tempest storming, but all calmenesse was vppon 
 the face of this kingdome, only a troupe of ch^erfull Dol- 
 phins, as Ambassadours , sent from their kingly Maisler, 
 came dauncing on the waters , for the entertaining of him. [2!)] 
 At which, his ioyfuU Marriners being scarce from sight of 
 land, with pleasant notes spread forth their comely sailes, 
 and with their brasen k6eles, cut an easie passage on the 
 greene medowes of the flouds. At last, fortune hauing 
 brought him heere, where she might make him the fittest [30] 
 Tennis-ball for her sport: euen as sodainely as thought >/ 
 this was the alteration, the Heauens beganne to thunder, 
 
 G 3 and 
 
v/ 
 
 [26] 21 pattrtttr of tl)e poinefuU ^ttiufntuws 
 
 and the skies shone with flashes of fire: day now had no o- 
 ther shew but only name, for darkenes was on the whole 
 face of the waters, hills of seas were ahout him, one somc- 
 
 ^ times tossing him euen to the face of heauen, while another 
 
 [5] sought to'~sincke him to the roofe of hell, some cryed, others 
 
 laboured. Me onely prayed: at last, two rauenous bil- 
 
 lowes m6eting, the one, Avith intent so stoppe vp all cla- 
 
 V mour, and the other, to wash away all labour, his ves- 
 sells no longer able to wrestle with the tempest, were all 
 
 [10] split. In briefe, he was shipwrackt, his good friends and 
 subiectes all were lost, nothing left to helpe him but di- 
 stresse, and nothing to complaine vnto but bis misery. 
 calamity 1 there might you haue beard the windes whist- 
 ling, theraine dashing, the sea roaring, the cables crac- 
 
 [13] king, the tackhngs breaking, the ship tearing, the men 
 miserably crying out to saue their Hues: there might you 
 haue seene the sea searching the ship, the boordes fleeting, 
 the goodes swimming, the treasure sincking, and the poore 
 soules shifting to saue themselues, but all in vaine, for 
 
 [20] partly by the violence of the tempest , and partely thorow 
 that dismall darltenesse, which vnfortunately was come 
 vpon them, they were all drowned, gentle |)j;ncl£$ only 
 
 ^ excepted, till (as it were Fortune being tyred with this 
 mishap) by the helpe of a plancke, which in this distresse 
 
 [2S] b6e got holde on , bee was , with much labour , and more 
 feare, driuen on the shore of |)ctttap0lis, where a while com- 
 plaining him of his mishaps, and accusing the Gods of 
 this iniury doone to his innocencie, not knowing on what 
 shoare, whether friend or foe he had, being certayne £i' 
 
 [30] fl)Cfmcn, who had also suffered in the former tempest, and 
 had b6ene witnesses of his vntimely shipwracke : (the day 
 being cl6ered againe) were come out from their homely 
 cottages to dry and repaire their nettes, who being busi- 
 ed about their work, and no whit regarding his lamenta- 
 
 [38] tion , passed away their labour with discourse to this pur- 
 pose, in comparing the Sea to Brokers and Usurers, who 
 
 seeme 
 
of ptxxcU^ pxince of Sgw. [27] 
 
 s6eme faire, and looke louely till they haue got men [into 
 their clutches, when one tumbles them, and an other 
 tosses them, but seldome leauing vntill they haue suncke , 
 them. Againe comparing our rich men to AVhales, that 
 make a great shew in the worlde, rowling and tumbling [S] 
 vp and downe, but are good for little, but to sincke others: 
 that the fishes line in the sea , as the powerfuU on shoare, : 
 the great ones eate vp the little ones : with which morall 
 obseruations driuing out their labor , and prince JJ(inrl£$, 
 wondring that from the finny subiects of the sea these poore [10] 
 countrey people learned the infirmities of men , more than 
 mans obduracy and dulnes could learne one of another: at 
 length ouercharged with cold which the extreamity of wa- 
 ter had pressed him with, and no longer being able to en- 
 dure , he was compelled to demaund their simple helpe , of- [15] 
 fering to their eares the mishap of his shipwracke , which 
 h6e was no sooner about to relate, but they remembred 
 their eies, not without much sorrow, to haue bin the wit- 
 nesses thereof : and beholding the comely feature of this 
 Gentleman , the chiefe of these Fishermen was mooued[20] 
 with compassion toward him, and lifting him vp from the 
 ground, himselfe with the helpe of his men, led him to his 
 house, where with such fare as they presently had, or they 
 could readily prouide , they with a hearty welcome feasted 
 him, and the more to expresse their tendernesse to his mis- [25] 
 fortune, the master dishabited himselfe of his outward ap- 
 parell to warme and cherish him, which curteous IJcriflca 
 as curteously receiuing, vowing, if euer his fortunes 
 came to their ancient height, their curtesies should not 
 die vurecompensed , and being somewhat repayred in [30] 
 heart by their rel6efe, he demaunded of the country on the 
 which he was driuen, of the name of the King, and of the 
 manner of the gouernement. When the maister Fisher- 
 man commaunding his seruants to goe dragge vp some o- 
 Iher nettes , which yet were abroade , he sealed himselfe [35] 
 by him, and of the question he demaunded to this purpose, 
 
 resolued 
 
 [3] 
 
[28] Jl ^atUmt of tijt potncfuU 2lliunttu«0 
 
 resolued him ; Our countrey h6ere on the which you are 
 driuen sir, is called |)£ntapfllis, and our good king thereof 
 is called 0gm0ni&£s: the Good King call you him, quoth 
 pnidcs? Yea, and rightly so called sir, quoth the poore 
 [S] Fisherman , who so gouernes his kingdoms with iustice 
 and vprightnesse , that he is no readier to commaund, than 
 we his subiects are willing to obey. He is a happy King, 
 quoth pexxcics, since he gaines the name of Good by his 
 gouernement, and then demaunded how farre his Court 
 
 [10] was distant from that place : wherein he was resolued, 
 some halfe a dayes iourney , and from point to point also 
 informed, that the King had a princely daughter named 
 l^ljagfa, in whome was Beauty so ioyned with Vertue, 
 that it was as yet vnresolued which of them deserued the 
 
 [IS] greater comparison : and in memory of whose birlh day, 
 her father yeerely celebrated feasts and triumphes, in the 
 honour of which, many Princes and Knights from farre 
 and remote Countries came, partly to approoue their chi- 
 ualry, but especially (being ber fathers only child,) in 
 
 [20] hope to gaine her loue : which name of Chiualry to ap- 
 prooue, that all the violence of the water had not power 
 to quench the noblenesse of his minde. |)mct£« sighing to 
 himselfe he broke out thus : Were but my fortunes aun- 
 swerable to my desires some should f6ele that I would be 
 
 [23] one there. When as if all the gods had giuen a plaudite 
 to his wordes , . the Fishermen , who before were sent 
 out by their Maister to dragge out the other nettes, ha- 
 uing found somwhat in the botome too ponderous for their 
 strength to pull vp, they beganne to lewre and hallow to 
 
 [30] their Maister for more helpe , crying that there was a fish 
 , hung in their net, like a poore mans case in the Lawe, it 
 would hardly come out, but Industry being a preuayling 
 workeman, before helpe came, vp came the Fish expec- 
 ted, but prooued ind6ede to be a rusty armour. At the name 
 
 [38] of which word Armour, Reticles being rowzed, he desired 
 of the poore Fishermen, that he who better than they, was 
 
 acquainted 
 
of peticie^ |)ntt« of £jjiw. [29] 
 
 acquainted with such furniture, might haue the view of 
 it. In hriefe, what hi5e could aske of them, was granted: 
 the Armour is by 'pcriclcs viewed, and kuowne to he a de- 
 fence which liis f;iLher at his last will gaue him in charge 
 to k6epe, that it might prooue to he a defender of the sonne, [5] 
 which he had knowne to be a preseruer of the father: so ac- 
 compting all his other losses nothing, since he had that a- 
 gayne , whereby his father could not challenge him of dis- 
 obedience : and thanking Fortune , that after all her cros- 
 ses, sh(5e had yet giuen him somewhat to repayre his for- [tO] 
 tunes, begging this Armour of the Fishermen, and tel- 
 ling them, that with it bee would shew the vertue bee had [ 
 learned in Armes, and trie his chiualry for their Prin- 
 CL'Sse itliagfa, which they applauding, and one furnishing 
 him with an old gowne to make Caparisons for his horse, [lo] 
 which horse bfie prouided with a lewel, whom all the rap- 
 tures of the sea could not bereaue from his arme , and o- 
 ther furnishing him with the long sideskirtes of their cas- 
 sockes, to make him bases, his Armour rusted : and thus 
 disgracefully habihted , Prince |3£tt£lc$ with their con- [20] 
 duct is gone to the Court of $mnoitiIre« , where the Fisher 
 men had fore-tolde him was all the preparation, that ey- 
 ther Art or Industrie might attaine vnto, to solemnize the 
 birth day of faire Cljagfa the good King !5ainoiiil)cs daugh- 
 ter. This is the day, this SjjmnnilifS Court, where the[2S] 
 King himselfe , with the Princesse bis daughter , haue 
 placed themselues in a Gallery, to beholde the triumphes v 
 of seuerall Princes, who in honour of the Princes birth 
 day, but more in hope to haue her loue, came purposely 
 thither , to approoue their chiualrie. They thus seated, [30] 
 and Prince ptticUs, as well as his owne prouiding, and 
 the Fishermens care could furnish him, likewise came to 
 the court. In this mauer also 5. seuerall princes (their hor- 
 ses richly caparasoned , but themselues more richly armed, 
 their Pages before them bearing their Deuices on their [35] 
 shields) entred then the Tilting ' place. The first a prince 
 
 D of 
 
[30] :3t yattfrne of t\i)e jpainefviii :^tutntnxe& 
 
 of ittar tlifftt, and the Deuice h6e bore vpon his shield, was 
 a blacke Ethiope reaching at the Sunne, the word, £uf 
 tua tita mll)t: which being by the knights Page dehuered 
 to the Lady, and from her presented to the Ring her father, 
 [S] h6e made playne to her the meaning of each imprese : and 
 for this first , it Avas , that the Macedonian Prince loued 
 her so well h6e helde his life of her. The second, a Prince 
 of Coi'tlttI), and the Deuice h6e bare vpon his shield was a 
 wreathe of Chiualry, the word, ittc p0mpae pi'OuejEtt apCjE, 
 
 [10] the desire of renowne drew him to this enterprise. The 
 
 third of :^ntiod), and his Deuice was an armed Knight, 
 
 y being conquered by a Lady, the word, put pcx loolctva 
 
 f|ui ptjr » fat fa: more by lenitie than by force. The fourth 
 
 of Spcit'ta, and the Deuice he bare was a mans arme enui- 
 
 [18] roned with a cloude , holding out golde thats by the touch- 
 stone tride, the word, Sic fpcftanlm fi&es, so faith is to be 
 looked into. The flft of ;Jlt|)«tt9, and his Deuice was a 
 flaming Torch turned downeward, the word, (ill lit me alit 
 mc c^tiitguit, that which giues me hfe giues me death. The 
 
 [20]sixt and last was |)cricle», Prince of Cgtf, who hauing nei- 
 ther Page to dehuer his shield , nor shield to deliuer , ma- 
 king his Deuice according to bis fortunes, which was a 
 withered Braunch being onely gr6ene at the top, which 
 prooued the abating of his body, decayed not the noblenesse 
 
 [2S] of his minde, his word, 3n l)ac fpe Miucr, In that hope I 
 liue. Himselfe with a most gracefull curtesie presented it 
 vnto her, which sh6e as curteously receiued, whilest the 
 P6eres attending on the King forbare not to scoffe, both at 
 his presence, and the present h6e brought, being himselfe 
 
 [30] in a rusty Armour, the Caparison of his horse of plaine 
 country russet, and his owne Bases but the skirles of a 
 poore Fishermans coate, which the King mildeiy reproo- 
 uing them for, h6e tolde them, that as Vertue was not 
 to be approoued by wordes, but by actions, so the out- 
 
 [35] ward habite was the least table of the inward minde, and 
 counselling them not to condemne ere they had cause to ac- 
 cuse: 
 
of ^mclcs> pxxnce af (Jgre. [31] 
 
 cuse: They went forward to the triumph, in which no- 
 ble exercise they came almost all, as short of ])aides perfe- 
 ctions, as a_body dying, of a life flourishing. To be ' 
 short,, both of Court and Commons, the praises of none 
 were spoken of, hut of the meane Knights (for by any o- [5] 
 ther name he was yet vnknowne to any.) But the Tri- 
 umphes being ended, Reticles as chiefe, (for in this dayes 
 honour h6e was Champion) with all the other Princes, 
 were by the Kings Marshall conducted into the Presence, 
 where Sginonitrts and his daughter El^ajfa, with a most[lO] 
 stately banquet stayed to giue them a thankefull intertain- 
 ment. At whose entraunce, the Lady first saluting pen- 
 cleSi, gaue him a wreathe of Chiualry, welcommed him 
 as her knight and guest, and crowned him King of that 
 dayes noble enterprise. In the end , all being seated by [13] '>'■ 
 the Marshall at a table, placed directly ouer-against where - 
 the king and his daughter sate as it were by some diuine . 
 operation, both King and daughter, at one instant were 
 so strucke in loue with the noblenesse of his woorth , that 
 they could not spare so much time to satisfie themselues [20] 
 with the delicacie of their viands, for talking of his pray- 
 ses : while |j£ncUs on the other side obseruing the dignity 
 wherein the King sale, that so many Princes came to ho- 
 nour him, so many Peeres stoode ready to attend him, h6e 
 was strucke with present sorrow, by remembring the losse [23] 
 of his owne. Which the good Sgmonilics taking note of, 
 and accusing himselfe before there was cause, that pcti' 
 cU^ spirites were dumjit into their melancholy, through 
 some dislike of the slackenesse h6e found in his entertaine- 
 ment, or neglect of his woorth , calling for a boule of wine, [30] 
 h6e dranke to him, and so much further honoured him, that 
 he made his daughter rise from her seate to beare it to him, 
 and withal! , willing her to demaund of him his name, 
 Countrey, and fortunes, a message (gentle Lady) sh6e 
 was as ready to obey vnto, as her Father was to com- [33] > 
 maund, reioycing that sh^e had any occasion offered her 
 
 D 2 whereby 
 
[32] 31 pnttmie of tlje prtinffuU Jltiufntitrcs 
 
 v 
 
 whereby sh6e might speake vnto him. |)ciiclc$ by this time 
 
 hath pledged the King, and by his daughter (according 
 
 to his request) thus returneth what h6c is, that h6e was 
 
 '' a Gentleman of l^Jjrc, his name |Jctirlcs, his education 
 
 [S]b6ene in Artes jnd Armes, who looking for aduenturcs in 
 
 the world, was by the rough and vncoustant Seas, most 
 
 vnforfunately bereft both of shippes and men , and after 
 
 shipwrecke, throwen vpon that shoare. Which mis-haps 
 
 ^ of his the king vnderstanding of, li6e was strucke with 
 
 [10] present pitty to him, and rising from his state, he came 
 foorthwith and imbraced him, bade him be cheered, and 
 tolde him, that whatsoeuer misfortune had impayred him 
 of. Fortune, by his helpe, coidd repayre to him, for both 
 himselfe and Countrey should he his friendes, and pre- 
 
 [15]sently calling for a goodly milke white St6ede, and a 
 payre of golden s^urres , them first bee bestowed vppon 
 him, telling him, they were the jtrises due to his merite, 
 and ordained for that dayes enterprise: which kingly cur- 
 tesie l^cfirlc* as thankefully accepting. Much time b(5e- 
 
 [20] ing spent in dauncing and other reuells , the night bfieing 
 growne olde, the King commaunded the Knights shoulde 
 be conducted to their lodgings, giuing order, that |Jcri' 
 rlcs Chamber should be next his owne, where wee will 
 leaue them to^iake quiet rest, and returne backe to CjjtC 
 
 [25] 
 
 [30] 
 
 The fift Chapter. 
 
 ^011) Helicaniis |)earb nciUfS of Antiochus flnb l)is liaugl)- 
 Icra beQtt)8, flnb of l)is fcnbing of oWjtx forba in fmd) 
 
 of tl)fir prinre Pericles. 
 
 lUttOfljus, who as before is discoursed, ha- 
 uing committed with his owne daughter so 
 foule a sinne, shamed not in the same foule- 
 nesse to remaine in it with her, neither had 
 sh6e that touch of grace, by repentaunce to 
 
 con- 
 
of paxdc^ ipfince of ®gre. [33] 
 
 constraine him to abstinence, or by perswasion to deny his 
 continuance: long, like those miserable serpents did their 
 grealnesse flourish, who vse fairest shewes for fowlest e- 
 uills, till one day himselfe seated with her in a Charriol, 
 made of the purest golde, attended by his p(5eres, and ga-[S] 
 sed on by his people, both apparrelled all in lewells, to 
 out face siispition, and beget wonder (as if that glorious 
 outsides were a wall could kfiepe heauens eye from know- 
 ing our intents) in great magnificence rode they through 
 jJtnttOfl): But see the Justice of the Highest, though sinne [10] 
 flatter, and man perseuere, yet surely Heauen at length 
 dooth punish. For as thus they rode, gazing to be gazed 
 vpon , and prowd to be accompted so , Vengeance with a 
 deadly arrow drawne from foorlh the quiuer of his wrath, 
 prepared by lightning, and shot on by thunder, liitte, and [13] 
 strucke dead these prowd incestuous creatures where they 
 sate, leauing their faces blasted, and their bodies such a 
 contemptfull obiect on the earth, that afl those eyes, but 
 now with renerence looked vpon them, all hands that ser- 
 ued them , and all kn6es adored them , scorned now to [20] 
 touch them , loalbd now to looke vpon them , and disdained 
 now to giue them buriall. Nay, such is heauens hate to 
 these and such like sinnes, and such his indignation to his- 
 present euill, that twixt his stroke and death, Me lent not 
 so much mercy to their Hues, wherein they had time to [2S] 
 crie ont ; Justice, be merciful!, for we repent vs. They 
 thus dead, thus contemned, and inst(5ede of kingly monu- 
 ment for their bodies left, to be intoombed in the bovvelles 
 of rauenons fowles, if fowles would eate on them. The 
 strangenesse of their deaths were soone rumored ouer that [30] 
 part of the world, and as soone brought lo the eares of £)t' 
 lyramiSi, who was a carefidl watchman to haue know- 
 ledge of whatsoeuer hapned in :2lnti od}, and by his know- 
 ledge to preuent what daunger might succeede, eylher to 
 his Prince, or to his subiectes in his absence, of which [33] 
 tragedy he hauing notice, presently he imparted the news 
 
 D 3 thereof 
 
[34] 21 patterne of tljc^jain^fuU Jltiiwnturfe 
 
 thereof to his graue and familiar friend Lord (Hffljtncs, and 
 now told him what till now hee had concealed, namely of 
 their incest together, and that onely for Ihe displeasure 
 which princely ptvidcs feared 2tntifld)US bore towardes 
 
 [8] him, and might extend to his people, by his knowledge 
 thereof, h6e thus long by his counsell had discontinued 
 from his kingdome. 
 
 Now it hapned that these tydings arriued to his eares, 
 iust at the instant, when his graue counsell could no lon- 
 
 [10] ger alay the head-strong multitude from their vnciuil and 
 ^ giddy muteny : and the reason of them (who most com- 
 monly are vnreasonable in their actions) to drawe them- 
 selues to this faction, was, that they supposed their prince 
 was dead, and that being dead , the kingdome was left 
 
 [IS] without a successefuU inheritor, that they had bin onelie 
 by j^tUamus with vaine hope of |Jmrlc« returne, deluded, 
 and that euen now the power being, by his death, in their 
 hands, they would create to themsehies a new soueraigne, 
 and i^clgcixttUS should be the man. Many reasons h6e vsed 
 
 [20] to perswade them, many Arguments to withstand them: 
 nothing but this onely preuailed with them , that since 
 he only knew their Prince was gone to trauell, and that, 
 that trauell was vndertaken for their good , they would 
 abstaine but for thr^e months longer from bestowing that 
 
 [23] dignity which they calld their loue , though it was his dis- 
 like vpon him, and if by that time (which they with him 
 should still hope for) the gods were not pleased for their 
 perpeluall good to restore vnto them their absent Prince 
 hee then with all willingnesse would accept of their suffra- 
 
 [30]ges. This then (though with much trouble) was at last 
 by the whole multitude accepted , and for that time they 
 were all pacified , when ^eltcanu« assembling all the peeres 
 vnto him, by the aduise of all, chose some from the rest, 
 and after bis best instructions, or rather by perswasions 
 
 [33] and graue counsell giuen , Me sent them to inquire of their 
 Prince, who lately left at |;^cntap0li$ was highly honoured 
 by good $ginoniti£«. The 
 
xif fJrrtfks |)rtn« of Z^te. [35] 
 
 The sixt Chapter. 
 |Ottl prince Pericles is mnrrieb t0 Thaysa king Symonides 
 
 bttUflliter, anb ))m after t)e l)ot() l)eorJi neiuca 9^ Antio- 
 chus beoti), l)ce iDitl) l)is toife hjjortetl) toioorli \j\% omt 
 Conntri) of Tyre. 
 
 Rince pericles hauing had (as before is 
 mentioned) his lodging directed next ad- 
 ioyning to the kings bed-chamber, where- 
 as all the other Princes vppon their com- 
 ming to iheir lodgings betooke themselues [10] 
 to their pillowes, and to the nourishment 
 of a quiet sl6epe, he of the Gentlemen that attended him, 
 (for it is to be noted, that vpon the grace that the king had 
 bestowed on him, there was of his Officers toward him 
 no attendance wanting) h6e desired that h6e might be left [tS] 
 priuate, oneiy that for his instant solace they would plea- /y 
 sure him with some dehghlfull Instrument, with which, 
 and his former practise h6e intended to passe away the te- 
 diousnesse of the night insteade of more fitting slumbers. 
 His wil was presently obeyed in all things since their ma- [20] 
 ster had coniraaunded he should be disobeyed in nothing: 
 the Instrument is brought him, and as h6e had formerly 
 wished, the Chamber is disfurnished of any other compa- 
 ny but himselfe, where presently h6e beganne to compell 
 such heauenly voy&es from the sencelesse workemanship, [2K] 
 as if JHpolio himselfe had now b6ene fingering on it, and ^ 
 as if the whole Sinode of the gods, had placed their deities 
 round about him of purpose, to haue b6ene dehghted with 
 his skill, and to haue giuen prayses to the excellencie of 
 his art, nor was this sound only the rauishcr of al hearers, [30] 
 but from his owne cl^erc breast h6e sent such ch^erefuU 
 notes, which by him were made vp so answerable to the 
 others sound, that they seemed one onely consort of musike, 
 
 and 
 
[36] 21 pctterne of tl)f potitcfuU 'Mmntiwe& 
 
 and had so much delicacie, and out of discordes making vp 
 so excellent a coniunction, that they had had power to haue 
 drawne backe an eare, halfe way- within Jhe graiie to haue 
 listned vnto it, for thus much by our story we are certaine 
 [S]of, that the good 0j)monil)t« (being by the height of night, 
 and the former dayes exercise, in the ripenesse of his con- 
 
 ^ tenlfuU sl6epe) h6e reioyced to he awakend by it, and not 
 accompting it a disease that troubled him in the hearing, 
 but a pleasure wherewith h6e still wished to be delighted. 
 
 [10] In briefe , h6e was so satisfied to heare him thus expresse 
 
 his excellence, that h6e accompted his Court happy to en- 
 
 tertaine so worthy a guest, and himselfe more happy in 
 
 his acquaintance. But day that hath still that soueraign- 
 
 ■' tie to drawe backe the emjjire of the night, though a while 
 
 [I3]sh6e in darkenesse vsurpe, brought the morning on, and 
 while the king was studying with what aunswerable pre- 
 sent, wherewith to gratifie this noble Prince for his last 
 nights musicke , a Gentlewoman (whose seruice was 
 thither commaunded by his Daughter) brought him a 
 
 [20] Letter, whose in-side had a sute to him to this purpose. 
 
 The Lady CijilOfacS Letter to the King 
 her Father. 
 
 i[1jtT| mo|l noble /fltl)er, tol)at ini) blufl)in() mobclli) for- 
 
 iJtl bibs me to fpeoke, let t)our fatl)crli) louf crrufe tl)ttt J 
 
 [25] inrite, J om fubbuDe bi) louc, i)ct not inttirallb \\ijxom}\\ \\}t li- 
 
 fentionfnes of a loofe befire, but mabc prifoncr in tl)ot noble 
 
 bottell tiuirt Affection onb ^rale : J l)aae no life but in tl)is 
 
 libertt), neither ani) libertij but in tt)ts tbralbomr, nor fball 
 
 t)Our tenber felfc, rofiijbing mi) afectione trucli) in tt)c Smk 
 
 [30] of i)Our Jjttbgcraent, tjouc caufe to rontrnbict me, fmcf l)im J 
 
 loue Ijtttl) 08 mud) mcrite in l)im, to djallcniie tt)e title of o 
 
 3onne, oa J) bbob of i)oura to int)crite tl)e name of o bougl)- 
 
 ter. 
 
of Ipfnclfs px'mce of 2Lgt£. [37J 
 
 tcr, tl)en if i)ou fl)a!l rtfafj to jjiue l)jin mc in mttrriofle, k- 
 nij not J |)ro!) tjou to inokc rcflbg for iiii) funernll. 
 
 Tis the stranger Pericles. 
 
 Which request of hers, when the king her father had 
 thus vnderstood of, h6e heganne first to examine with him [S] 
 selfe, what vertue was in this choice, that should hind 
 her thoughts to this liking, and what succeeding comfort 
 h(5e might expect, the expectation of which, might inuite 
 him to his consent. First hee heganne to remember him- 
 selfe, that he came vnto his Court but poore, and for po- [10] 
 uerty, quoth the good king, tis a woorkemanship , that 
 Nature makes vppe euen for others to contemne , and, 
 which in these times , is growne odious to k6epe companie 
 withall, that to manie her v^hich was his onely childe, 
 and the expectation of his subiectes , with one of so lowe [IS] 
 blood and meane discent, would returne, rather a disho- 
 nour than a dignitie to his name, since Parents rather 
 expect Ihe aduauncement of Titles , and the raising of 
 their houses, in the \niting of their issue, than the de- 
 clining: but in the end, when h6e had put all the Interiecti- [20] 
 ons he could between her loue and his liking, his vpright- 
 nesse made him s6e, that in vertue consisted mans onely 
 perfection, ynd in him, as her befitting Court, she thought 
 it fittest to kOcpe her royall residence, and in that opinion 
 allowing of his daughters choice, h6e thought himselfe [25] 
 happy to Hue Father to such a vertuous sonne, and his 
 daughter more happy to be coupled to so noble a husband. 
 And as h(5e was now thus contracting them together in 
 his reioycing thoughts, euen in the instant came in |JC' 
 riclce , to giue his Grace that salutation which the morning [30] 
 required of him, when the king intending to dissemble that 
 in shew, which h6e had determined on in heart, h6e first 
 tolde him, that his daughter had that morning sent vnto 
 
 E him 
 
[38] 21 ipatttxne of tl)c ^JcinffwU 3liiufnturf0 
 
 him that Letter, wherein sh6e intreated of him, that his 
 Grace would he pleased, that himselfe (whom sh6e knew 
 to call by no other name but the Stranger |)fnclfS) might 
 become her Schoolemaister , of whose rariety in musicke, 
 [5] excellencie in song, with comelinesse in dauncing, not 
 onely sh6e had heard, but himselfe had borne testimonie 
 to be the best, that euer their iudgements had had cause to 
 iudge of. When ^Ptiides, though willing to y^elde any 
 courtesies to so grations a Lady, and not disdaining to be 
 
 [10] commaunded any seruices by so good a Lord , yet replyed. 
 Though all his abilities were at his Graces pleasure, yet 
 he thought himselfe vnwoorthy to be his daughters schoole- 
 maister. I but quoth Sj)monillC«, sh6e will not be denied 
 to be your Scholler, and for manifest proofe thereof h6ere 
 
 [15] is her owne Character, which to that purpose sh6e hath 
 sent vnto vs, and we to that purpose giue you leaue to 
 reade : which |PcricUsi ouerlooking , and finding the whole 
 tenour thereof to be, that his daughter from all the other 
 Princes, nay from the whole worlde, soUicited him for 
 
 [20] her husband, he straitway rather coniectured it to be some 
 subtiltie of the father to betray his life, than any constancy 
 of the princesse to loue him : and foorthwith prostrating 
 himselfe at the kings f6ete, bee desired that his Grace 
 would no way s6eke to staine the noblenesse of his minde, 
 
 [23] by any way seeking to intrappe the life of so harmelesse a 
 Gentleman, or that with euill he would conclude so much 
 good which he already had begunne toward him , protest- 
 ing, that for his part, his thoughts had neuer that am- 
 bition, so much as to ayme at the lone of his daughter, nor 
 
 [30] any action of his, gaue cause of his princely displesure : but 
 the king faining still an angry brow, turned toward him, 
 and tolde him, that like a traitour, h(5e lyed. Traytour, 
 quoth pttxclcsl I, traytour, quoth the king, that thus 
 disguised, art stolne into my Court, with the witchcraft of 
 
 [33] thy actions to bewitch, the yiSelding spirit of my tender 
 Childe. Which name of Tray tor being againe redoubled, 
 
 |)cricU» 
 
of pnxdtQ ptxnci of t^xt. [39] 
 
 Pcvxdcz then, iiisteade of humblenesse seemed not to forget 
 his auntient courage, but boklely replyed , That were 
 il any in his Court, except himselfe, durst call him Iraytor, 
 euen in his bosome he would write the lie: affirming, that 
 he came into his Court in search of honour, and not to be [S] 
 a rebell to his State, his hloud was yet vntainted, but 
 with the heate, got by the wrong the king had offered him, 
 and that he boldly durst, and did defie, himselfe, his sub- 
 iectes, and the prowdest danger, that eyther tyranny or 
 treason could inflict vpon him. Which noblenesse of his, [10] 
 the king inwardly commending, though otherwise dis- 
 sembling, he answered, he should prooue it otherwise, since 
 by his daughters hand, it there was evident, both his 
 practise and her consent therein. Which wordes were no 
 sooner vtlered, but ®|)agfa (who euer since she sent her Fa- [18] 
 ther her Letter, could not containe her selfe in any quiet, 
 till she heard of his answer) came now m, as it had beeue 
 her parte, to make aunswere to her Fathers last sillable, 
 when prince pttifies yielding his body toward her, in most 
 curteous manner demaunded of her by the hope she had of [20] 
 heauen, or the desire she had to haue her best wishes ful- 
 filled heere in the worlde , that shee would now satisfle , her 
 now displeased Father, if euer he, by motion, or by let- 
 ters, by amorous glaunces, or by any meanes that Lo- 
 uers use to compasse their disseignes, had sought to be a [23] 
 friend in the noblenesse of her thoughts, or a copartner 
 in the worthinesse of her loue, when she as constant to fi- 
 nish, as she was forward to attempt, againe required of 
 him, that suppose he had, who durst take offence there- 
 at, since that it was her pleasure to giue him to knowe [30] 
 that he had power to desire no more than she had willing- 
 nesse to performe? 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 ®l)efcu« borne we 
 knowe not where, one that hath neither bloud nor merite[33] 
 for th6e to hope for, or himselfe to challenge euen the least 
 
 E 2 allow- 
 
[io] 21 |)attjrnf erf t{]e :paiatfu\l 2iMintntt& 
 
 allowaunce of thy perfections, when she humbling her 
 princely kn^es before her Father, besought him to consi- 
 der, that suppose his birth were base (when his life she- 
 wed him not to be so) yet h6e had vertue, which is the very 
 [3] ground of all nobilitie , enough to make him noble : she in- 
 treated him to remember that she was in loue, the pow-er 
 of which loue was not to be confined by the power of his 
 will. And my most royall Father, quoth sh(5e , what with 
 my penne I haue in secret written vnto you, with my 
 
 [10] tongue now I openly confirme , which is, that I haue 
 no life but in his loue, neither any being but in the enioy- 
 ing of his worth. But daughter (quoth $gmonii)j;«) e- 
 qualles to equalls, good to good is ioyned, this not being 
 so , the bauine of your minde in rashnesse kindled , must 
 
 [15] againe be quenched , or purchase our displeasure. And for 
 you sir (speaking to prince pcticics) first learne to know, I 
 banish you my Court, and yet scorning that our kingly in- 
 ragement should stoope so lowe, for that your ambition sir, 
 lie haue your life. Be constant, quoth %l)a)}fa^ for euerie 
 
 [20] droppe of blood h6e sheades of yours , he shall draw an o- 
 ther from his onely childe. In briefe, the king continu- 
 ed still his rage, the Lady her constancie. While ptnclc* 
 stoode amazed at both, till at last the Father being no lon- 
 ger able to subdue that which he desired as much as sh6e, 
 
 [23] catching them both rashly by the handes , as if hee meant 
 strait to haue inforced them to imprisonment, heclapt them 
 hand in hand, while they as louingly ioyned lip to lip, 
 and with tears trickling from his aged eyes, adopted him 
 his happy sonne, and bade them line together as man and 
 
 [30] wife. 1 What ioy there was at this coupling,- those that 
 are Loners and enioy their wishes, can better conceiue, 
 than my pen can set downe; the one reioycing 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 
 
 [3S] there w as for their marriage , is sufficiently expressed in 
 this, that she was the onely daughter to a King, and had 
 
 her 
 
of |)mckgi ^txnce of (^grt. [4i] 
 
 ler falhers liking in her lone: what sp(5ede there was to 
 ,hat raarriage, let those iudge who haue the thoughtes of 
 2Dljaj)fa at this instant, only conceiue the solenipnities at 
 ;he Temple are doone, the feast in most solempiie order fi- 
 lished, the day spent in musicke, dauncing, singing, and [3] 
 ill Courtly communication, halfe of the night in maskes 
 md other courtly shewes, and the other halfe in the hap- 
 py and lawfull imbracements of these most happy Louers. 
 The discourse at large of the liberall Chalenges made and 
 proclaimed, at Tilt, Barriers, running at the Ring, tofO[io] 
 Bi can^ mannaging fierce horses, running on foote, and 
 dauncing in armours, of the stately presented Playes, 
 Shewes disguised , Sp6eches , Maskes and Mummeries, 
 ivith contiimall harmony of all kindes of Musicke, with 
 banquefting in all delicacie, I leaue to the consideration [IS] 
 oi them who haue behelde the hke in Courtes, and at the 
 wedding of princes, i-ather than afford them to the descrip- 
 tion of my penne, only let such conceiue, all things in due 
 3rder were accomplished , the dueties of marriage perfor- 
 med: and faire d)agfa this night is conceiued with child. [20] 
 
 The next day loy dvvelhng thorow the whole kingdom 
 for this coniunction , euery man arose to feasting and 
 iollity, for the wedding triumphs continued a whole mo- 
 ueth, while Time with his feathered wings, so fanned a- ^, 
 ivay the houres, and with his slippery f6ete, so glided ouer[2S] 
 the dayes, that nine Moones had almost chaunged their 
 light, ere halfe the time was thought to be expired, when it 
 happened, that as the good Sgmffnilrc* and princely ptxx' 
 cUs with his faire ^l)aj)fa were walking in the garden ad- 
 ioyning to their pallace, one of the Lords, who (as before) [30] 
 ivere sent by graue and carefuU i^ci^canvis^ in search of 
 their abseut Prince, came hastily in to them, who vppon 
 bis kn6e deliuered vnto the yoong Prince a Letter , which 
 being opened the contents therein spake thus vnto him: 
 That ;2lttti0d)iis and his daughter (as is before described) [38] 
 were with the violence of hghtning (shot from heauen,) 
 
 E 3 slrucke 
 
 / 
 
[42] 21 pottmw of tl)c painefuU :Hl)umtua0 
 
 strucke sodainely dead. And moreoucr, that by the con- 
 sent of the generall voyces the Ciltie of jjlttttod), with all 
 the riches therein, and the whole kingdome were reserued 
 for his possession and princely gouernmeut. Which Letter 
 [S] when he had read, he presently imparted the news there- 
 of to his kingly Father, who vppon view rcceiued, h6e 
 strait knew (what vntill then the modesty of |^ci'iclC!5 had 
 concealed) that his sonne whome from pouerly h6e ad- 
 uanced to be the bedfellow of his daughter, was Prince of 
 
 [10]i;gi-i;^ who for the feare he had of :2tntiod)WS, had forsooke his 
 kingdome, and now had giuen vnto him the kingdome of 
 2lutiodiU9 for recompence, that graue ^cljjcatius had not 
 without much labour, appeased the stubborne mutiny of 
 the ^ J) via US, who in his absence would haue elected him 
 
 [15] their king, and that to auoyde a future insurrection, (his 
 whole state) in safety, how necessary it was for him to 
 make a speedy returne, which gladnesse SjjmonilKS im- 
 parted to his Daughter, who as gladly receiued them. 
 While |)mclc« intending a while to leaue his dfierest deere 
 
 [20]behinde him, considering how dangerous it was for her 
 to trauell by sea, being with childe, and so n6ere her time, 
 he beganne to intreate of his kingly father of all necessarie 
 prouision for his departure, since the safety of twoo king- 
 domes did importune so much : when on the other side 
 
 [2b] Eljitjjfa faUing at her fathers f6ete, her teares speaking in 
 her sute faster than her wordes , sh6e humbly requested, 
 that as his reuerend age tendered her, or the prosperitie 
 of the Infant wherewith sh6e thought her selfe happy to be 
 imburthened, h6e would not permitte her to remaine be- 
 
 [30] hinde him. Which teares of hers preuayling with the a- 
 ged King, though compelling his teares to take a loth and 
 sorrowfuU departure of her. Their Shippes being strong- 
 ly appoynted, and fraught with all things conuenient as 
 golde, siluer, apparrell, bedding, victualls, and armour, 
 
 [35] and fearing what too vnfortunately hapned, causing an 
 aged Nurse called facorilrit a Midwife, with other hand- 
 
 inaides 
 
of pmde& ptinct of Sjjw. [43] 
 
 naitlcs to altend her. They are shipt, and h6e on shoare, 
 K6 one gasing after the other with a gr6edy desire, \ntill 
 he high vsurping waters tooke away the sight from them 
 )0th. 
 
 The seauenth Chapter. [jj] 
 
 pou) fQJre Thaysa bjci in traufll of d)ilk-btrtl) tipjion tl)e 
 Sfa, anb being W^xmnx for burioll in Wjt tottttrs, iiioa 
 fo|i ofl)oarE at Ephesus, nnb Ijoio bij tl)t mellnit lobour 
 of fort Cerimon fkilfuil |)^i)fitiou, fl)e tUQS rc|lorei> to 
 l)cr life Ojjaine, onb b^ Ijcr otune requcfl plorrt to Hue a[io] 
 Dotari) in tl)e f^emplc of Diana. 
 
 P 
 
 Rince ^mclcs, with his Qu6ene i;i)ajjftt, 
 being thus on shippe-boorde , and their 
 marriners merrily hauing hoysed vppe 
 their sayles, their vessels, as prowde of [15] 
 such a fraught wherewith they were en- 
 riched, galloped ch6erefully on the Oce- 
 m. Fortune did now s6eme to looke fairely, neyther was 
 Lhere promise of any other alteration, the day looked loue- 
 y, and the sea smiled for ioy, to haue her bosome pressed [20] 
 with these burthens: But nothing in this world that is 
 Dermanent, Time is the father of Fortune, hee is shp- 
 )ery, and then of necessitie must his childe be fickle: and 
 his was his altgration , a cloude seemed to arise from forth 
 he south , which being by the Maister and Marriners be- [23] 
 leld, they tolde Prince ^jJciiclcs, that it was messenger of 
 )f a storme, which was no sooner spoken, but as if the 
 leauens had conspired with the waters, and the windes 
 )in assistant to both, they kept such a blustering, and such 
 in vnruely stirre, that none could be heard to speake but [30] 
 liemselnos, seas of waters were recciued into their ships 
 vliile others fought against them to expell them out, stop 
 
 the 
 
[44j 21 pattmw 0f t\i)e painffull 2lliwntur£0 
 
 the lecage Ihere cries out one, hale vppe the maine bow- 
 lings there calles out another, and with their confusion 
 (neither vnderstanding other, since the storme had gotte 
 the maistery) they made such a hideous uoyse, that it had 
 
 [S] had power to haue awakened Death , and to haue affrigh- 
 ted Patience :. nor could it choose then but bring much ter- 
 ror to our sea-sicke Qu6ene, who had beene vsed to better 
 attendance, than was now offered her by these ill tutored 
 seruantes Winde and Water : but they who neither re- 
 
 [10] spect birth nor blood, prayers nor threats, time nor occa- 
 sion , continued still their boysterous hauocke. With 
 which stirre (good Lady) her eics and eares, hauing not till 
 then bin acquainted , she is strucke into such a hasty fright, 
 that welladay she falles in trauell, is deliuered of a daugh- 
 
 [lS]ter, and in this childe-birth dies, while her princely hus- 
 band being aboue the hatches, is one while praying to 
 heauen for her safe deliuerance, an other while suffering 
 for the sorow whervvith he knew his Qu6ene was imbur- 
 thened, he chid the contrary storme (as if it had b6en sen- 
 
 [20] sible of hearing) to be so vnmanerly, in this vnfitting sea- 
 son, and when so good a Queene was in labor, to k6ep such 
 a blustering : thus while the good Prince remayned reproo- 
 uing the one, and pittying the other, vp comes fgcorttta 
 the Nurse, sent along by good iSjjmonilKSSi with his daugh- 
 
 [2d]ter, and into his arnies deliuers his Sea-borne Babe, 
 which he taking to kisse, and pittying it with these words: 
 Poore inch of Nature (quoth he) thou arte as rudely wel- 
 come to the worlde, as euer Princesse Babe was, and 
 hast as chiding a natiuitie, as fire, ayre, earth, and water >^ 
 
 [30] can affoord th6e, when, as if he had forgot himselfe, he ab- 
 ruptly breaks out: but say ftcocitra, how doth my Qu6ene? 
 sir (quoth she) she hath now passed all daungers, and 
 hath giuen vppe her griefes by ending her life. At which 
 wordes, no tongue is able to expresse the tide of sorrowe 
 
 [35] that ouer-bounded fJairks, first looking on his Babe, and 
 then crying out for the mother, pittying the one that had 
 
 lost 
 
of |)end£Si pnncc of Z^te. [45J 
 
 lost her bringer ere sh6e had scarce saluted the worlde, la- 
 menting for himselfe that had beene bereft of so inestima- 
 ble a lewell by the losse of his wife, in which sorrowc as 
 he would bauft proceeded , vppe [came the Maistcr to him, 
 who for that the storme continued still in his tempestuous [S] 
 height, brake off bis sorrowe with these sillables. Sir, 
 the necessitie of the time affoordes no delay, and we must 
 jntreate you to be contented , to haue the dead body of your 
 Qu6ene throwne ouer-boorde. How varlet 1 quoth Tj)cti' 
 ties, interrupting him, wouldest thou haue me cast that[io] 
 body into the sea for buriall, who being in misery recciued 
 me into fauour ? We must intreate you to temperance 
 sir (quoth the Maister) as you respect your owne safety, 
 or the prosperitie of that prety Babe in your armes. At the 
 naming of which word Babe, |JcrirltS looking mournfully [ib] 
 vpon it, shooke his head, and wept. But the Maister 
 going on, tolde him, that by long experience they had tri- 
 ed, that a shippe may not abide to carry a dead carcasse, 
 nor would the bngering tempest cease while the dead body 
 remayned with them. But the Priuce seeking againe to [20] 
 persvvade them, tolde them, that it was but the fondues 
 of their superstition to thinke so. Call it by what you shal 
 please sir (quoth the Maister) but we that by long practise 
 haue tried the proofe of it, if not with your graunt, then 
 without your consent (for your owne safety, which w6e [25] 
 with all duety tender) must so dispose of it. So calling 
 for his seruants about him , he willed one of them , to bring 
 him a chest, which he foorthwith caused to be well hitu- 
 med and well leaded for her coffm, then taking vp the bo- 
 dy of bis (euen in death) faire ^Ijagfa, he arrayed her in [30] 
 princely apparrell, placing a Crowne of golde vppon her 
 head, with his owne hands, (not without store of fune- 
 rall teares) he layed her in that Toombe, then placed bee 
 also store of golde at her head, and great treasure of siluer 
 at her feete, and hauing written this Letter which he layd [35] 
 vpon her breast, with fresh water flowing in his eyes, as 
 
 F loath 
 
[46] Z ipattmxe of tljt ^lainffuU aDuntturcs 
 
 loath to leaue her sight, he nayled vp the Chest, the Te- 
 nor of which writing was in forme as followeth; 
 
 3f eve it Ijap tijis CI)cH be latiucn 
 ®n attg fijoatrc, on coafl or |)aucu, 
 [S] J( f trifles tl)e ftincc nf t;gf£, 
 
 (i;|)at l0oftttg l)cr, lojl all Ircftcc,) 
 Jiitti'catc gou giuc l)i;r bttt'giitg, 
 Since fl)c was Iraugljlct' to a fiiitg: 
 i;i)is gollrc 3 giiie gou ass a fee, 
 [loj l^l)c @Dlr« requite gour el)aritie. 
 
 The Chest then being nayled vp close, he commaunded 
 it to be lifted ouer-boorde, and then naming his Childe 
 ittitrittit, for that she was borne vppon the Sea, he dire- 
 cted his Maister to alter the course from ?Dgre, (being a 
 
 [15] shorter cutte to El) ar fits) and for whose safety he thither in- 
 tended, where with his hoste Cleoti and Slionjjfa bis wife, 
 he intended to leaue his Uttle infant, to be fostered and 
 brought vp. The dead body being thus throwne ouer- 
 boorde, when as if Fortune had bethought her, that shee 
 
 [20] had wrought her vtmost spight to him, by bereauing him 
 of so great a comfort, euen in the instant the tempest cea- 
 seth, where we will leaue Prince pcricles vppon calme 
 waters, though not with a calme winde, sayling to ^jjaV' 
 f Xl^ : and beholde , the next morning , by which time , the 
 
 [2b] wanes had rouled , from waue to waue this Chest to land, 
 and cast it ashoare on the coast of C p I) c f u s , in which Citty 
 lined a Lord called Cerimon, who, though of noble bloud, 
 and great possessions, yet was he so addicted to studie, & in 
 searching out the excelJencie of Arts, ihat his fehcitie con- 
 
 [30] sisted in contemplation, wisely fore-knowing, so icie is 
 the state of riches, that it is thawed to nothing, by the 
 least aduersitie, that carelesse heires may dispend, and riot 
 consume them, when one vertue, and our deserued fame 
 attendeth immortality, this consideration made him so to 
 
 apply 
 
of |Jericlcs pvince of (Jgw, [47] 
 
 api)Iy his lime in Letters, and in searching ont the na- 
 ture of Simples, that he grew so excellent in the secret of 
 Physicke, as if ^jjollrt himselfe, or another ;Jlcfculnput« 
 had h6ene his Schoolemaister : nor was he of this plentie 
 a niggard to the needie, but so bonntifull to the .distressed, [3] 
 that his house and hand were accompted the hospitalls for 
 the diseased. This Lord CfrilUOit had his residence built 
 so neare the shoare, that in his windowes he oner-looked 
 the Sea : and being this morning in conference with some 
 that came to him both for helpe for themselues, and rehefe [iO] 
 for others; and some that were relating the cruellie of 
 the last nights tempest, on a sodayne casting his eye from 
 foorth his casement towards the niaine, he might espie the 
 \vaters, as it were, playing with the Chest wherein the 
 dead Qneene \\as incoffind , and which was vpon the so- [13] 
 dayne, by a more eager hiUow, cast on his bankes, when 
 presently thinking it to be the remnant of some shippe- 
 wrackc, caused in the last nights storme, calling for his 
 sei'uanls , bee foorthwith commaunded them to haue it 
 brought ^ppe to him as forfeited vnto him, being cast on [20] 
 his ground, which accordingly performed, bee as ]ire- 
 sendy gane charge it should be opened , when not without 
 much wonder he strailway viewed the dead body of the 
 Queene , so crowned , so royally apparelled , so intrea- 
 sui'ed as before, and taking vp the writing which he like- [23] 
 wise found placed vpon her breast, bee read it to the Gen- 
 tlemen , who at that time accompanied him , and know- 
 ing it thereby to be the dead Queene to Prince |rl£i*irUs. 
 -Now surely, ipioth )!lericlcs, thou hast a bodie euen drow- 
 ned with woe for the losse of so goodly a creature: for Gen- [30] 
 tlemen , sayde he , as you may perceine , such was the ex- 
 cellencie of her beauty, that griniiiie Death himselfe hath 
 not power to sulfcr any deformitie to accompany it. Then 
 laying his hand gently vpon her cheekc, he bethought him 
 that life had not lost all the workemanshippe that Nature [33] 
 had bestowed vppon her, for euen at the opening of the 
 
 F 2 Chest, 
 
[48] 31 potterne of tl)e poinefuU Jlliumturfs 
 
 Chest, & as it were she then receiuing fresh aire, he might 
 perceue, a new hut cahn glowing to recspire in her ch6eks, 
 with which being somewhat amazed. Now surely Gen- 
 tlemen, quoth ht5e turning to them, who were greedily set 
 [5] round about him , this Qu6ene hath not long beene in- 
 
 • traunced, and I haue read of some Egyptians, who af- 
 ter foure houres death, (if man may call it so) haue raised 
 impouerished bodies, like to this, vnto their former health, 
 nor can it be disparagement to me to vse my best practise 
 
 [10] on this Qu6ene , to which by the Gentlemen that accom- 
 panyed him, h6e was incouraged to attempt, since that 
 the recouery of her could not but appeare to be a worke of 
 wonder, and since that his fortune was so successefuli in 
 his ministring, that all ^pl)£fus was repleate with his 
 
 [15]helpe, so calling for a seruant of his to attend him with 
 certayne boxes which he named were in his studie, as al- 
 so with fire and necessary linnen , inuoking ^IpoUo to be 
 gratious to his empericke, and the worke in hand, he be- 
 gan to apply to her. First pulling downe the clothes from 
 
 [20] off the Ladies bosome, he powred vppon her a most pre- 
 cious oyntment, and bestowing it abroad with his hand, 
 perceiued some warmth in her breast, and that there was 
 life in the body, whereat somewhat astonished, he felt her 
 pulses, layde his ch6eke to her mouth, and examining all 
 
 [23] other tokens that he could deuise, he perceiued how death 
 stroue with Ufe Avithin her, and that the conflict was dan- 
 gerous, and doubtfuU who should preuaile. Which bee- 
 ing done, he chafed the body against the fire, vntill the 
 bloud which was congealed with colde was wholly dissol- 
 
 [30] lied, when powring a precious liquor into her mouth, h6e 
 perceiued warmth more & more to encrease in her, and the 
 golden fringes of her eyes ahlle to part: then calling softly 
 to the Gentlemen who were witnesses about him, he bade 
 them that they should commaund some still musicke to 
 
 [33] sound. For certainely quoth he , I thinke this Qu6ene 
 will hue, and suppose that she hath bin much abused, for 
 
 she 
 
of pevuks prince of Sgw. [49] 
 
 she hath not beene long intraunced, conderaning them for 
 rashnesse so hastily to throvve her ouer-boorde. And when 
 he had so said, he tooke the body reuerently into his armes, 
 and bare it into his owne Chamber, and layed it vpon his 
 bed grouehng vpon the breast, then tooke h6c certaine bote [3J 
 and comfortable oiles, and warming them vpon the coles, 
 he dipped faire wooll therein, and fomented all the bodie 
 ouer therewith, vntill such time as the congealed bloud 
 and humours were thorowly resolued, and the spirites in 
 due forme recouered their woonted course , the vcines wa- [10] 
 xed warrae, the arteries beganne to beate, and the lungs 
 drew in the fresh a^Cre againe, and being perfectly come to 
 her selfe, lifting vp those now agaiuc pricelesse diamonds 
 of her eyes, Lord (quoth shee) where am I? for it s6e- 
 meth to me that I haue beene in a strange Countrey. And [13] 
 wheres my Lord I pray you? I long to speake with him. 
 But CfdlUOlt, who best knew, that now with any thing 
 to discomfort her, might breede a relapse, which would 
 he vnrecouerable , intreated her to be cheered, for her Lord 
 was well , and that anone , when the time was more fit- [20] 
 ting, and that her decayed spirites were repayred. Me 
 would gladly speake with her: So, as it were, being but 
 newly awaked from death, to the great amasement of the 
 beholders, she presently fell into a most comfortable slum- 
 ber, which Lord Cerilltoit giuing charge none should di-[2o] 
 sturbe her of, he in the meane time , and against she should 
 awake, prouided cherishing meates, and as her strength 
 grew, gaue wholesome clothes to refresh her with. But 
 not long after, weakenesse being banished from her, and 
 Cccimon , by communication knew , that sh6e came of the [30] 
 stocke of a King, he sent for many of his friendes to come 
 vnto him, and adopted her for his owne daughter, and 
 related vnto her, howe after so grievous a tempest, in 
 what manner sh6e was found. In which tempest she sup- 
 posing her kingly husband to be shipwrecked , shee with [35] 
 many teares intreated, that since he had giuen her hfe, he 
 
 F 3 would 
 
[50] 21 pattmtc of tl)C ^jaiiiffuU ^tutcnturcs 
 
 wouli] be pleascil to giiie her leaiic to line vnkuowne to a- 
 
 ny man. To which Cci'ilttoii accorded: and I'or that intent 
 
 placed her in the Temple of Diaiut, which was there con- 
 secrated at €p|)C'fus. 
 
 m 
 
 The eight Chapter. 
 
 §)m Pericles amuing ot Tharsus, kliucrctl) l)is ijooiifl 
 
 Jrangljtcr Marina onto Cleon mi Dyonysa to k fo^t- 
 
 reb op: onb Ijoiti Lycorida tl)e lurfc li)tug oj)|)i)n ^er 
 l)eotl)-l»fli, JiedflrrtI) onto Marina uil)o lUfrt l)i'r |)a- 
 [10] rents. 
 
 Ailing llius left the recouered ^Ijajjfii a- 
 mongst the holy Nmines in the Temple 
 of Diana at iipljcfus, our Storic biddeth 
 vs looke backe vnto sorrowfull j;Jci'iclc$, 
 whose shippe with fortunate winde, fa- 
 uour of the heauens, and prouidence of 
 his pylate, arriued at the shoare of Sljarfus, where \pon 
 his landing h6e was curteously receiued by Clcon and 5iljj' 
 ongfa^ whome he as curteously saluted, telling them the 
 [20] heauie cbaunces which had befallen him, both of the great 
 stormes and tempests on the Sea , which he with patience 
 had indured, as also of the dealh of the good Lady ^Ijajjfrt, 
 wqich he not without much sorrow sufl'ered , onely ijuoth 
 he, I haue h^ere left a little picture of her, who for it was 
 [25]giuen vnto me at Sea, I haue named illav'tna, and 1 
 thanke the heauens, is so like vnto her, that I neuer doe 
 looke v}5^on it, but with much comfort, in whose ])role- 
 clion and education 1 meane to vse your friendship , while 
 1 goe on in trauell to receiue the kiugdome of 2lnti0rl)us, 
 [30] which is reserued for mee. And if you will euer shew your 
 gratitude, for my former charitie extended lowardes you, 
 and all this Citty in a former distresse, the gods haue gi- 
 
 uen 
 
of l^fciclfs |)tiiu-c of Z^u. [51] 
 
 uen Ihis cause, to prooue your thankefulnesse. When 
 both vowing by solemne oath, their care should be on her, 
 as reason vnto themselues, who is the guidor of mans 
 life : he satisfied with that their promise , thanked them, 
 telling them moreouer, that wi(h them also he woulde [SJ 
 leaiie Cjjcovtifa her mothers nurse, (and giuen vnto him by 
 her good father Sjjmouilrcs) that sh6e might be a nurse vn- 
 to her child, only further requesting them, and so charging 
 Cjjcoriira, that if it pleased the gods to lend her life to the 
 y^eres of vnderstanding, they should not till his returne, [JO] 
 make knowne vnto her, that she was a braunch sproong 
 from him, but onely be brought vppe as the daughter of 
 Clcon and ^Djtoitgfcr, lest that the knowledge of her high 
 birth, should make her growe prowd to their instructions. 
 Of which hauing likewise promise, he deliuered the in- [15] 
 fant and the nurse to Clcoil, and therewithal!, great sums 
 of golde, siluer, and apparrell, and vowing solemnely by 
 othe to himselfe, his head should grow vncisserd , his beard 
 vnlrimmed, himselfe in all vncomely, since he had lost 
 his Qui5enc, and till he had married his daughter at ripe [20] 
 years. When they much wondring at so strange a resolue, 
 and promising to be most faithfull with all diligence accor- 
 ding to his directions, pencils looke his leaue, departed 
 with his Ship , sayling euen to the vttermost parts of all 
 €i)))pt, while his yoong daughter ittatina grew vp to mcref23] 
 able discretion, and when she was fully attaind to 5. yeers 
 of age, being to her selfe knowne no other but to be free 
 borne, she was set to Schoole with other fr6e children, al- 
 wayes ioynlly accompanied with one onely daughter that 
 Diougfrt had, being of the same time that she was of, where [30] 
 growing vp, aswel in learning, as in number of yeeres, vn- 
 till she came to the reckoning of foureteene, one day when 
 she returned from Schoole , she found iTlJjroinlirt her Murse 
 sodainely fallen sioke, and sitting beside her vpon the bed, 
 she as in care of her, deraaunded the cause and manner of [35] 
 her sickenesse : when the Nur.se finding her disease to haue 
 
 no 
 
[52] 21 ^jatterne of tl)e patncfuU 2H)Ufntu«s* 
 
 no hope of recouery, but a harbinger that came before to 
 prepare a lodging for death, answered her to this purpose; 
 For my sickenessc, quoth she , it matters not (deare childe) 
 since it is as necessary to be siclie, as it is needefuU to die, 
 [3] onely I intreate of you to hearlsen vnto a dying wonians 
 wordes that loueth you , and Jaying ■ them vppe in your 
 heart, perswade yeur selfe, that in these houres no sinner 
 should, or can be so wretched, to spare a minute to (inde 
 time to lie. Knowe then , that you are not the daughter 
 
 [lOJ of Clcott and JUgonjjfa, as you till this haue supposed : but 
 hearken vnto me, and I will declare vnto th6e the begin- 
 ning of thy birth, that thou mayest knowe how to guide 
 thy selfe after my death: IJci'tcUs the Prince of llgi'c is thj 
 father, and 'El)itgfa king Sgmoiti^CS daughter was thy mo- 
 
 [lS]ther: which father and mother departed from thy grandsir 
 at ^Jtntapolis toward their kingdom of ffigrc, thy mother be- 
 ing at Sea, fell in trauell with th6e, & died after thou wert 
 borne: when thy Father |Jci'irlcs inclosed her body in a 
 Chest with princely ornaments , laying twenty talents of 
 
 [20] gold e at her head, and as much at her feete in siluer; with 
 a Scedule written, containing the dignitie of her birth, 
 & manner of her death, then caused he the Chest to be thrown 
 ouer-boordc into the Sea, thorow a superstitious opinion 
 which the mariners beleeued, leauing her body so inriched, 
 
 [23] to the inleut, that whither soeuer it were driuen, they that 
 found it, in regarde of the riches, would bury her accor- 
 ding to her estate. Thus Lady were you borne vppon the 
 waters, and your fathers Ship with much wrestling of 
 contrary windes, and with his vnspeakeable griefe of 
 
 [30] minde, arriued at this shoare, and brought th6e in thy 
 swadling clowtes vnto this Citty, where he with great 
 care deliuered thee vnto this thine hosle Ctcoit and Elgong' 
 fa his wife, diligently to be fosterad bp, and left me h6erc 
 also to attend vppon th^e, swearing this oath to k6epe in- 
 
 [35] uiolate, his haire should be vncisserd , his face vntrimmed-, 
 himselfe in all things vncomely continually to mourne for 
 
 mother. 
 
r)f |)fricksi |)rin« of SLjjre. [53] 
 
 your dead mother, vntill your ripe yeares gaue him occa- 
 sion to marry you to some prince worthy your hirth and 
 beauty; wherefore I now admonish you, that if after my 
 death, thine hoste or hostesse, whom thou calst thy parents, 
 shall happly offer th6e any iniury, or discurteously taking [S] 
 aduantage of thy absent father as vnbetilting thine estate 
 intertain th6e, haste thee into the market place, where thou 
 shalt flnde a Statue erected to thy father standing, take 
 hold of it, and crie aloude; You cittizens of '®|)ftCftlS, I am 
 his daughter, whose Image this is, who being mindefull [10] 
 of -thy fathers benefits will doubtlesse reuenge thy iniurie. 
 When ittariltrt thanking fgcorilia for making that known 
 lo her, which till then was vnknowne, and happly either 
 Ihorow Time or Death might haue b6ene buried in her ig- 
 norance: and vowing, if euer n6ede should so require (of [15] 
 which as yet she had no cause to doubt) her counsell should 
 be followed. And so fgrontta through sickenesse growing 
 more weake, and ittnrina for this knowledge and aduise 
 still tending on her, in her armes at last sh6e gaue vp the 
 Ghost. [20] 
 
 The ninth Chapter, 
 ^m flftcr t!)e bfoti) of Lycorida {\)t Inurfe Dyonysa fn- 
 
 Mi)lni) Qt ll)e bcouti) of Marina, Ijircb fcruont of l)frs 
 lo \\nt murbcrb l)cr, onJi l)on) fie mas rffnub bi) rcr- 
 toine |)i)rotrs, oub bi) tijcm rarrieb to tl)c Cittie of[25] 
 Meteline, iDljere omoiig otl)CC bonbflaufg, fl)ce toos 
 foibe to a rontmon fiantbf. 
 
 2trina hauing thus by fgconirac« meanes 
 had knowledge of her parenfes, and fg- 
 cctri&a hauing beene in her life, her most[30] 
 carefull Nurse, shee (not without iust 
 cause) lamented her death , and caused 
 
 G her 
 
[54] 31 jpatUtm of tlje pamefuU 2ltiufntitrfs 
 
 her body to be solerapiiely interred, in a field without the 
 walles of the Cittie, i-aising a monument in remembrance 
 of lier, vowing to her selfe a yeares solemne sadnessc, and 
 that her cies also for so long a time should daily pay their 
 [S] dewy offerings, as lamenting the losse of so good a friend. 
 But this decree of hers being accomplished , and all the 
 riles thereof faithfully fulfilled, she dismissed her Lodie of 
 her mourning altire, and againe apparrelled her selfe as 
 before, in her most costly habilliments, frequenting (he 
 
 [10] Schooles , and diligently endeuouring the studies of the 
 Liberall Sciences, wherein she so out-went in perfection, 
 tlie labours of all that were studious with her, that shee 
 was rather vsed amongst them as their Schooleniislris to 
 instruct, than their fellow Scholler to learne, onely for 
 
 [IS] her recreation betwixt the lioures of study, dauncing, sing- 
 ing, sowing, or what experience soeuer (for in no action 
 was she vnexpcrt, as also euery morning, and at noone, 
 before she made her nu;a]e) she forgolle not to reuisile her 
 Nurses sepulchre: and entring into the monument, vpon 
 
 [20] her knees she there ofl'ered her funerall teares for the losse 
 of her mother, and desiring the gods in their holy Synode 
 to protect the safety of her father, accusing her selfe as an 
 vnforlunate cliilde, whose b6eing, caused the death of her 
 mother, so good a Queene, and the sorrow of her father, so 
 
 [23] curteous a Prince : and in very d6ede, the whole course of 
 her life was so affable and curteous , that she wonne the 
 loue of all and euery man , aecompling his tongue (the fa- 
 ther tof speech) a trewant, which was not liberall in her 
 prayses : so that it fortuned as she passed along the streete, 
 
 [30] with SDjjOUSfa her daughter , who was her companion and 
 Schoole-fellow, and who till then she supposed had beene 
 her sister. The people , as at other times , came running 
 out of their doores with gr6edy desire to looke vpon her; and 
 beholding the beauly and comelinesse of ^aiiltft so farre 
 
 [33] to out-shine SlgOllJifacs daughter, who went side by side 
 with her, could not containe themselues from crying out, 
 
 Ilap- 
 
of ^erixlce ]^v'mcc of Z^vt. [55] 
 
 Happy is that falhci- wlio liatli Utarimt to his daughter, 
 but her Companion that goeth with her is fovvle and ill- 
 fauoured. Which when 30j)Oltj)fa heard, her enuy of those 
 prayses bred in her a contempt, and that contempt soone 
 transformed it selfe into wrath, all which sh6e for the in- [SI 
 slant dissembling, yet at her coniming home withdraw- 
 ing her selfe into a priuate walke, she in this maner with 
 her selfe beganne to discourse; It is now quoth she, foure- 
 teene y6ers since periclce this out-shining gerles father de- 
 parted this our Citly, in all which time we haue not re- [10] 
 ceiued so much as a Letter, to signifle that he remembers 
 her, or or any other token, to manifest he hath a desire to 
 acknowledge her , whereby I haue reason to coniecture, 
 that he is either surely dead, or not regardes her, though I 
 must confesse, at his departure from hence, and his com-[i5] 
 mitting her to our protection, he left her not vnfurnished 
 of all things fitting the education of his childe, and a prin- 
 cesse of her birth, both of golde, plate, and apparrell, euen 
 competent enough to foster her according to her degree, nay 
 (if n6ede were) to marry her according to her blood. But [20] 
 what of all this? he is absent, and Cgcoritra her Nurse is 
 dead : Sh6e in beauty out-shines my childe , and I haue 
 her fathers treasure in possession, (though giuen for her 
 vse) shall make my daughter out-shine her. What thougli 
 I knowe her father did rel(5eue our Citty? I agayne doe [28] 
 knowe, that but few in these dayes requite beuefites with 
 thankes , longer than while they are in receiuing. In 
 briefe, I enuy her, and she shall perish for it. With the 
 which wordes she had no sooner concluded, but in comes 
 a seruant of hers, and she now intended to make him the [30] 
 diuells. With this fccminc she thus began to interprele 
 her will: Ccoitiuc quoth she, thou knowst ^lat;tna. And ma- 
 dame, quoth he, for a most vertuous Gentlewoman. 
 Talke not of vertue, quoth IPjjoitjjfii, for thats not the bu- 
 sinesse which we haue in hand ; but I must haue th6e learne [3B] 
 to know her now, that thou mayest neuer know her after- 
 
 G 2 ward. 
 
\o6] 1^ patterns of t\)e painefuU ^Ibuentttries 
 
 ward, I understand you not quoth iTconittC. When she re 
 plied, Take this at large then, Thou art my bond-slaue, 
 whom I haue power to enfranchise or captiue, if thou wilt 
 obey me, first then receiue this golde as the earnest which 
 [5] promjselh vnto thfie a greater reward : but if thou deny to 
 accomphsh my desire, in bondage and imprisonment, I 
 will fetter th(5e, and by no other meanes conclude my re- 
 uenge, but by Ihy death. Speake on my taske then good 
 Madam, quoth fcoilillC, For what is it that a bondman 
 
 [10] will not attempt for liberty, which is deercr to man then 
 life, and what not 1 then? Thou knowest, quoth DjjO' 
 nyfft then, that ittrtrina hath a custome, as soone as sh6e 
 returneth home from schoole, not to eate nieate before she 
 haue gone to visite the sepulchre of her nurse. There at her 
 
 [IS] next deuotion, doe thou meete her, stand ready, and with 
 thy weapon drawen, sodainely kill her. How kill her quoth 
 . Scoitinty why tis an acte vnconscionable , & deserues dam- 
 nation but to conspire in thought, since she is a creature 
 so harmlesse, that euen Innocencie it selfe cannot be more 
 
 [20] pure, nor inwardly be more decently arrayed than is her 
 minde: yet to fulfill your pleasure, for the hope of golde, 
 and the releasement of my bondage, were she as spotlesse 
 as Trueth, h6ere are two monsters (drawing his sworde 
 into his hand) shall effect it for you, when she rewarding 
 
 [25] him with more golde, and commending his resolution, he 
 goes forward to attend for her at £^cot\i!ac& Toombe, and 
 Ittftrittft being returned from Schoole, is also come thither 
 to offer on the monument her diurnall deuotion, when on 
 the sodaine, while her kn6es kissed the earth, and her eyes 
 
 [30] saluted heauen, while prayers were in her mouth, and 
 teares in her eyes, all tributary offerings, giuen vnto the 
 gods for the prosperitie of her father, on the sodaine to- 
 ward her, out rushed this ■Ccoitiite, and with a looke as 
 cruell as his heart, and sp6ech as harsh as his intent, he re- 
 
 [3S]solued her in blunt wordes, that he was come to kill her, 
 that h6e was hired vnto it by SigOttgftt her foster mother, 
 
 that 
 
of |)mclf$ |)vtn« of Zyxt. [57j 
 
 that she was loo good for mon, and therefore he would send 
 her to the gods, that if she would pray, pray, for hee had 
 sworne to kill her, and he would kill her, and a thousand 
 more, ere he would be damned for periury. When she that 
 was on her knees before making her orisons to heauen, [S] 
 was now compelled to lurne her intreaties to him: and 
 first demaunded of him what offence her ignoraunce had 
 done (for wittingly shee knew shee coulde doe none) ey- 
 tlier to him. that (as himsr-lfe said) came to murther her, 
 or to her that hired him. But the villaine neyther regar- [lo] 
 ding her innocencie or teares, though shovvred in aboun- 
 daunce, hut drawing out his sword wherewith to haue 
 shed her blood, and haue damned his own soule, there were 
 certaine pyrates that were newly put to water, in at a 
 Creeke neare adioyning, where the villaine intended this [18] 
 most inhumane murther, and being come vp ashoare to 
 forrage, for what pillage soeuer they couhl happen vpon, 
 euen as he was about to haue giuen the fatall blow, whom 
 all her intreaties could not perswade him from , beholding 
 so blondy a villaine, offering violence to so goodly a beau- [20] 
 ty, they running all at once toward him cried out aloude ; 
 Holde monstrous wretch, as thou louest thy life, hold, for 
 that iFayden is our prey, and not thy victory. Which 
 when the villaine heard, and perceiuing his intent to be 
 intercepted ; making his heeles his best defence, till ha- [23] 
 uing fledde some distance from them, and obseruing them 
 not to pursue, he secretly stole backe, to note what the 
 euent would be, which was, that the pyrates who had 
 thus rescued iltitrtllrt, carried her to their shippes, hoysed 
 sayles, and departed. At which the vilaine returned home [30] 
 to his Mistris, declaring to her that he had doone what she 
 commaundcd him to doe, namely raurthered ittittrillrt, and 
 from the toppe of a high chffe, throwne her body downe 
 for buriall into the Sea, aduising her withall, that since 
 it was done, the chiefest meanes to auoyde suspition , was [3S] 
 to put on mourning garments, and by counterfeiting a 
 
 G 3 great 
 
[58] 11 patterne of tlje painffuU 2tt)uniturf$ 
 
 great sorrow, in the sight of the people report, that she was 
 dead of some dauiigerous disease: and withall, to bloare 
 the eies of the multitude (who with faire shewes are soone 
 flattered) n6ere to her fathers Statue to erect a monu- 
 13] mcnt for her. According thereunto, she attyred her seife 
 and her daughter in solempne altire, and counterfeiting 
 a fained sorrow, and dissembling teares. And going now 
 to erect her monument (to the view of which, all the Cit- 
 tizens flocked) She in publike assembly thus spake vnto 
 
 [10] them. D6ere Friends and Citlizens of ^ljacfu», If you 
 shall happly wonder, why we thus vnwoontedly w6ep and 
 niourne in your sight, it is because the ioy of our eyes and 
 staffe of our olde age ittariita is dead, whose absence hath 
 left vnto vs nothing but salt teares, and sorrowfuU harts, 
 
 [15] as if by her death we were diuided from all comfort, yet 
 haue we here taken order for her funeralls, and buried her 
 (as heere you s6e) according to her degree, which losse of 
 hers was right grieuous to all the people, nor was there 
 any that was capable of sorrowe, but spent it for her, so 
 
 [20] that with one voyce and wilhng handes, they attended 
 SljJonjjfa to the Market place whereas her fathers Image 
 stoode, made of brasse, and erected also another to her with 
 this Inscription: 
 
 Marinaes Epitaph. 
 
 [2S] i;ij£ fitkffl, d)afl;cH, ants inojl bcft lies Ijcctrc, 
 
 Ull)0 iiij)tl)i'ci) in |)cr fpcing of jjccrc: 
 3it iilaturcs gixftrcn, tljaugi) bjj fltoiDtl) a iJitJr, 
 !51)ec urns t\)c d^icfcft |lmDcr, fi)e idcib gootr. 
 
 So with this flattery, (which is like a Skreene before 
 [30] (he grauest ludgements) deceiuing the Cittizens , and 
 all doone, vnsuspected she returned home, when Clcotl, 
 who not at all consented to this treason, but so soone as he 
 heard thereof, being strucke into amazement, he apparelled 
 himselfe in mourning garments, lamenting the \ntime- 
 [33] ly ruine of so goodly a Lady, saying to himselfe, Alas now, 
 
 what 
 
of |3criflesi |)rtncc of £gw. [59] 
 
 what miscliiefe am I wrapped in, what might I do or say 
 heereiu? The Father of that Virgiiie deliuered this Citty 
 from the perill of death, for this Citties sake h6e suffered 
 sliipwracke, lost his goodes, and endured penury, and now 
 he is requited with euill for good, his daughter which h^e [5] 
 committed hy my care to be brought vp, is now deuoured 
 by the cruelty of my wife, so that I am depriued, as it 
 were, of mine owne eyes, and forced to bewaile the death 
 of that Innocent, she in whose presence, as in the fortune 
 ef mine own posterity I should haue had delight. And then [lo] 
 demaunding of JDjjouafit how she could giue prince |^ci'icks 
 accompt of his childe, hauing robbed him of his childe, 
 how she could appease the fury of his wrath, if her acte 
 were knowne to him? or how alay the displeasure of the 
 gods, from whome nothing can be hid. For |3fi'iclc$ quoth [15] 
 she, if such a pious innocent as your selfe do not reueale it 
 vnto him , bow should he come to the knowledge thereof, 
 since that the whole Citty is satisfied by the monument I 
 caused to be erected, and by our dissembling outside, that 
 she died naturally, and for the gods, let them that list be of [20] 
 the minde to thinke Ihey can make stones speake, and 
 raise them vp in euidence, for my parte I haue my wish, 
 I haue my safety, and feare no daunger till it fall vpon 
 me. But ClfOit rather cursing then commending this ob- 
 duracy in her, he continued mourning vnfainedly, but she [25] 
 according to her sinful condition. By this time the pirats 
 (who before rescued ittai'ittit, when she should haue hiene 
 slaine by trecherous Ccottiltf) are now ariued at McttLinc^ 
 and in the Market place of the Cittie , according to the cu- 
 stonie , amongst other bondslaues , offered her to he solde, [30] 
 whither all sorts of people, comming to supply their pur- 
 poses, ittftlina was not without much commendations 
 gazed vpon of the buyers, some commending her beauty, 
 others her sober countenaunce , all pittying her mishap, 
 and praysing her perfections, which prayses" of her, were [35] 
 so spread through the Citty, that from all parts they came 
 
 crow- 
 
[60] 71 :pottn*nc of tl)c painffuU ZMaxtmc^ 
 
 crowding to see her, amongst the number of which, was a 
 £ciXO or bawde, yet one who had not set vp shop and kept 
 trade for himselfe, but was yet but iourney-man to the 
 deuiil. This £con amongst others, staring vpon her, and 
 [H] knowing her face to be a fit faire signe for his maistcrs 
 house, and with which signe he made no doubt, but to 
 lodge vnder their roofe, all th'intemperate (euen from youth 
 to age) thorow the whole Gitty, h^'C foorthwith deniaun- 
 ded the price, intending to buy her, at what rate soeuer, 
 
 [10] and in the end, went thorow, and bargained to haue her, 
 
 paying a hundred Sestercies of golde, and so presently 
 
 * hauing giuen earnest, he takes iHariiia, and the rest of the 
 
 Pirates home with him to his Maisters house, ittftl'iurt 
 
 was there to be taught how to giue her body vppe a prosti- 
 
 [ISI tutc to sinne, and the Pirates for their new sLuffe to re- 
 cciue their money. 
 
 The tenth Chapter. 
 
 |otu Marina being tl)us rolbe U a |aii)lie, prfferucb l)er 
 ulrginjtie, mil) l)Oto flicc ronutrtfb oil tl)nt futr rome 
 [20] to inohe l)ire of ^er bcoutij from tlje loofcncflTe of tl)cir 
 kfms. 
 
 ;2ttiltit was no sooner thus concluded for, by 
 the bee Bawde, but the Pyrates were as 
 soone brought home to hi* masters house, 
 and recciued their payment, when after 
 their departure, she giuing commaund to 
 the Pander her man , that he should goe 
 backe into the Market place, and there with open crie 
 proclaime, what a picture of Nature they had at home , for 
 [30] euery lascinious eie to gaze vpon. The she Bawd beganne 
 to instruct her, with what complement she should enler- 
 taine her customers: she first asked her, if she were a vir- 
 
 gine- 
 
of Ipci'tcks pmxcc of t})tt. [ai] 
 
 gine. When ittiU'tmt rcplyed, she thanked the Gods, sht'e 
 neiier knew what it was to he otherwise. In so being 
 (luoth the she hawde, you haue heene well: but now in 
 plaine teannes 1 must teach you liow to be worse. It is 
 not goodaesse in you (quolh ittarillrt) to teach me to be so : [8] 
 for goodnes answerd llie bawd, it is a Leclurc, such as we 
 v.-^e seldome, & our consciences neuer reade one to another, & 
 therefore altend vnto me : you must now he like a stake for 
 ! euery man to shootc at, you nuist be like a foord that must 
 roeciue^^jll__waters, you must haue the henefile of all nali- [loi 
 ons, and seeme to take delight in all men. I thanke my 
 starres, answered iltacillrt, I am displeased with none: 
 for by this auswere it appeared such was the piu'itie of her 
 minde , that she vnderstoode not what this deuills sollici- 
 tor pleaded vnto her : but she quickely taking her off, told [15] 
 in more immodest phrase, that shee had payde for her, and 
 that she and all her body was hers, that will ye nill ye she 
 must now be what she her selfe had beene, (and there is sel- 
 dome any bawde, hut before time, hath beene a whoore) 
 that to conclude, sh6e had bought her like a beast, and shee [20] 
 meant to hire her out. 
 
 When she vnderstanding vnwillingly what all these 
 wordes tended vnto, she fell prostrate at her f6ete, and 
 with teares showred downe in aboundance, she intrea- 
 ted her, not to make hire of her bodie to so discascfull a [25] 
 vse, which shee hoped the gods had ordained to a more 
 happy purpose. When the bawde answered her. Come, 
 come, these drojjpes auaile th6e not, thou arte now mine, 
 and I will make my best of thee : and I must now learne 
 you to know, we whom the worlde calles Bawdcs, but [30] 
 more properly are to be stiled Factors for men, are in this 
 like the hangman, neither to regard prayers, nor teares, 
 but our owne proflte. So calhng for her slaue, which was 
 gouernour oner her she-houshold, this was her appoynt- 
 ment vnto him, Goe quoth shee and take this IMayden, [33] 
 as shee is thus decked in cosily apparell (for it is to he re- 
 
 H membred, 
 
t62] ^ i)attfrn« of tl)c poinffuU :2lbu€ntti«0 
 
 membred, that the former Pirates had no way dispoyled 
 her of her ornaments, with purpose to prise her at the 
 higher rate) and leading her along, this be the crie tlio- 
 row the whole Citty, That whosoeuer desireth the pur- 
 [8] chase of so wondrous a beauty, shall for his first enioying 
 her, pay tenne peeces of golde, and that afterward sh6e 
 shall be common vnto the people for one p6ece at a time. 
 Which will of hers, ittanita being no way able to resist, 
 but with her sorrowe, onely desiring of the good gods, to 
 
 [10] be protectors of her chastitie : She with this her slane was 
 hurried along, and who with the tenour of his priapine 
 proclamation, had so awaked the intemperaunce of the 
 whole Cittie, that against her returne, of high and low 
 there was a full crowding at the doore, euery man carry- 
 
 [18] ing his money in his hand, and thinking him the happi- 
 est man that might first haue accesse. But heauen who is 
 still a protector of Vertue against Vice , ordayned this for 
 Marina , that the sending her abroad, with purpose , first 
 to shew her, and after, to make sale of her to the worlde, 
 
 [20] was the onely meanes to defend her in the state of her vir- 
 
 ginitie. For as she was (as before is saide) led along, and 
 
 thousands of people wondring about her, and flocking as 
 
 ! it had b6ene so many flies, to infect so dehcate a preserua- 
 
 tiue, it happened that iTpftittftdjue the cheefe gouernour of 
 
 [28]illct£tittc, looking out at his windowe, to obserue what 
 strange occasion drew the gi(lcly hauocke of people, to mu- 
 ster themselues into such throngs : he, not without great 
 admiration obserued, that is was to make boote of so pre- 
 tious a beauiy, whose inflaming colours which Nature 
 
 [30] had with her best Arte placed vppon her face , compelled 
 him to censure, that she was rather a deseruing bedfel- 
 low for a Prince, than a play-fellow for so rascally an as- 
 sembly: so pittying awhile her misfortune, that it was 
 ., so hard to be throwne into the laws of two such poisonous 
 
 [33] and deuouring serpents, a Pandar, and a Bawde, yet 
 at last, being inflamed with alittle sinnefull concupiscence. 
 
of ^Jfrirlcsi pnnct of Sgre. [63j 
 
 by the power of her face, lie resoliied himselfe that since shee 
 must fall, it were farre more fitter, into his owiie armes, 
 whose authoritie could stretch to doe her good, than into 
 the hote imbracements of many, to her vtter mine; so 
 presently dismissing away a seruant of his , he gaue him [S] 
 charge , to giue in charge to the Bawd , that at the returne 
 home, of this new peece of merchandise of hers, as shee 
 respected, or in time of neede would be beholding to his 
 fauour, (and Heauens forfend but Bawdes nowe and 
 then should stand in neede of authoritie) she should keepe [10] 
 her priuate from the conference of any, for h(5e himselfe 
 that night late in the euening, in secret, and in some 
 disguise, would (for her guests sake) visite her house. 
 There needed no further incouragement to bid the Bawde 
 stirre _>:p her damnable limbes to make all fit. It was e- [15] 
 iiough in this, that the Gouernour had sent Morde, it 
 was he that was to come. But hailing giuen the best gar- 
 nish she could to her sinuefull habitation: and iWarinrt be- 
 ing returned home againe by the Pandar, who had ledde 
 her vp and downe as Beare-heards leade beares for shew [20] 
 first, and to he baited after: Shee tooke her vp with her 
 into a priuate Chamber, when the fruite of her instructi- 
 ons were, how she should now learne to behaue her selfe, 
 for she had fortunes comming vppon her, she was nowe 
 /to be receiued, respected, and regarded of a man that was [23] 
 honourable. Heauen graunt that I may flnde him so, 
 quoth iltai'tna. Thou nt^edest not doubt it sweete heart, 
 quoth the Bawde, for though I tell it thee in priuate, 
 which for a million he would not haue to be knowne pub- 
 likely: Ilee is no woorse a man thou arte shortly to deale[30] 
 withall, than the Gouernour of this whole Citty, a 
 Gentleman that is curteous, a fauourer of our calling, 
 one that will as soone haue his hand in his pocket, as such 
 a pretty diUing as thou shalt come in his eye, and not as 
 most of our Gentlemen doe, drawe it out empty, but fil-[3b] 
 bug it full of golde, will most loue^ke rayne it downe in- 
 
 H 2 to 
 
[64] 31 pcttcrnf of tljc :patnffuU :Jlt)ucntxivf6 
 
 to his Jlannc* lap. In hriefo, ho is a NohlLMi^n, and, 
 wliich is 'a Ihing which \vc respect more than his nohililic, 
 he is hherali: he is ciirlcous, and thoti niayest coniinaund 
 him, he is vertuous and tliou niayest leanic of him. All 
 [oj these indtede, answered ittrtvillit, are properlies, due vnlo 
 so worthy a Gentleman, whom you picture him to he: and 
 if he he liberall in good, I shall be glad to taste of his houn- 
 lie: if curteous, 1 shall as willingly become his seruant: 
 and if vertuous, it shal be in me no way to make him vici- 
 
 [10] ous. Well, well, Avell, sayes the Bawde, we must haue 
 no more of this puling, and I must hauc you learne to 
 know, that vice is as hereditary to our house, as the olde 
 barue to your countrey beggar. But as shee would haue 
 proceeded with more of these her diuehsh counsclls, hasli- 
 
 [iSJly into the Chamber came the Pandar vnlo them, who as 
 hote as a toste, with his haste to bring the newes he told, 
 them, Ihat the Lorde Cjiftlltadju* was come, and as if 
 the word Come had b6ene his kew, he entred the Chamber 
 with the master bawde, when 'the whole fric of sinners 
 
 [20] cursying about him, he very largely, as tlKT'Prologiie lo 
 
 his entertainment, distiibuled golde among lliem, and 
 
 then as roundly demaunded, for that same fresh peecu of 
 
 ' stuffe, which by their proclamation they tolde, they had 
 
 now to make sale of, and he of set purpose was come lo 
 
 [28] haue a sight of. 
 
 When they all poynting toward iUai'inn, told him there 
 sh6e was, and for oin- selues, quoth they, we bailing done 
 Ihe office of right Chamberlaines , brought you togelhcr, 
 we will shut the doore after vs, and so leaue you. ^^'ho no 
 
 [30] sooner departed, but fjjftiuadjtlS the Gouernour began to 
 demaund of her the peiformaunce of that for whiiii he 
 came. When shoe prosti'ating her selfe at his fecte, iulrea- 
 led him to take pitty of her, and from poynt to poynt (ex- 
 cepting her birth, and death of her parents) discoursed 
 
 [35] vnto him the whole story of her misfortunes : as that by 
 the practise of Dyoitjjfit, and cruelty of Sionuxc-, she should 
 
 haue 
 
of |)a:idfs |j)rtna of Syrf. [65] 
 
 haiie iH'cne niurthercd. And how it pleased the Gods to 
 rescue her from that ruine hy certaine Pyrates, mIio alter 
 soldo her to this brotliell, where, most vnhaiipy, he was 
 witnesse she remayned. Then gentle Sir, quoth sliee, since 
 heauen hath heene so gratious, to restore mc from death, let;^.'.] 
 not their good to me, be a meanes for you, to be author of 
 my more misfortune. But the Gouernour suspecting these 
 teares, but to be some new cunning, which her matron the 
 Bawde had instructed her in, to drawe liim to a more 
 large expence: He as freely tolde her so, and now beganne [10] 
 to be more rough with her, vrging her, (hat he ^vas the 
 Gouernour, whose authoritie coulde ^^incke at those ble- 
 mishes, her selfe, and that sinnefull liouse could cast vppon 
 her, or his displeasure punish at his owne pleasure, which 
 displeasure of mine, thy beauty shall not priuiledge thee [13J 
 from, nor my affection, which halh drawen me vnto this 
 place abate, if thou with further lingering withstand mc. 
 By which wordes, she vnderstanding him to be as confi- 
 dent in euill, as she was constant in good, she intreated 
 him but to be heard, and thus she beganne. po] 
 
 If as you say (my Lorde) you are the Gouernour, let 
 not your authoritie, which should teach you to rule others, 
 be the meanes to make you mis-gouerne your selfe: If 
 the eminence of your place came \nto you by discent, and 
 the royalty of your blood, let not your life prooue your birth [25 1 
 a bastard : If it were llirowne vpon you by opinion , make 
 good, that opinion was the cause to make you great. What 
 reason is thci'e in your lustice, who hath power oner all, 
 to vndoc any? If you take from mee mine honour, you 
 arc like him, that makes a gappe into forbidden ground, [30J 
 after whome too many enter, and you are guiltie of all 
 their euilles: my life is yet vnspolled, my chastitie vnstai- 
 ned in thought. Then if your violence deface this build- 
 ing, the workemanship of heauen, made vp for good, and 
 not to be the exercise of sinnes intemperaunce , you do kill [33] 
 your owne honour, abuse your owne iustice, and impo- 
 
 H 3 uerish 
 
[66] of IJmclcsi |Jriiicc of Sgrc . 
 
 uerish ur'. Why quoth £yftmnd)U$, Lliis lioiisu \\ herein 
 thou liuest, is euen the receptacle of all mens sinn es, and 
 nurse ol' vvicketlnesse, and how canst Ihou then he olher- 
 ■\vise then nanght, that liuest in it? It is not good, answe- 
 [•■>] red ittrtcimt, when you that are the Gouernour, who 
 should line well, the Letter to be bolde to punish cuill, doe 
 knowe that there is such a roofe, and yet come \nder it. 
 Is there a necessitie (my yet good Lord) if there be fire be- 
 fore me, that I must strait then thither Hie and burne my 
 [lOjselfe? Or if suppose this house, (which too too many feele 
 such houses are) should be the Doctors ])alrimony, and 
 Surgeons feeding; folowes it therefore, that I must needs 
 'infect my self to giue them maintenance? my good Lord, 
 kill me, hut not deflower me, punish me how you please, 
 [15] so you spare my chastilie, and since it is all the dowry that 
 both the Gods haue giuen, and men haue left to me, do not 
 you take it from me; make me your seruant, I will wil- 
 lingly obey you; make mee your bondwoman, I will ac- 
 compt it frfiedorae; let me be the worst that is called vile, 
 /[■20]so I may slill line honest, I am content: or if you thinke 
 it is too blessed a happinesse to haue me so, let me euen 
 now, now in Ibis minute die, and He accompt my dealh 
 more happy than my birth. With which wordes (being 
 spoken vpon her knees) while her eyes were the glasses 
 [23] that carried the water of her mis-hap , the good Gentlewo- 
 man being mooued, h(5e lift her vp with his hands, and e- 
 uen then imbraced her in his hart, saying aside: Now sure- 
 ly this is Virtues image, or rather, Vertues sell'e, sent 
 downe from heauen, a while to raigne on earth, to teach 
 [30J vs what we should be. So in st6ede of willing her to drie 
 her eyes, he wiped the wet himselfe off, and could haue 
 found in his heart, with modest thoughts to haue kissed 
 her, but that bee feared the offer would offend her. This 
 onely bee sayde. Lady, for such your vertues are, a farre 
 [38] more worthy stile your beuty challenges, and no way lesse 
 your beauty can promise me that you are, I hither came 
 
 with 
 
21 pattfriif of tl)f vaiiwfwU JHntniturfS [G7] 
 
 wilh thoughtes intemjierate , foiile and deformed, Ihe 
 which your paiiies so well hath laued, that they are now 
 white, continue still to all so, and for my parte, who hi- 
 ther came hut to haue payd the price , a p6ece of golde for 
 your virginitie, now giue you twenty to rel6eue your ho- [3] 
 nesly. It shall become you still to be euen as you are, a 
 p6ece of goodnesse, the best wrought vppe, that euer Na- 
 ture made, and if that any shall inforce you ill, if you but 
 send to me, I am your friend. Wilh which promise, lea- 
 ning her presence, she most humbly thanked the Gods for [10] 
 the preserualion of her chastitie, and the reformation of 
 his mind. 
 
 irjifimrtd)!!^ though departed, thus intended not to leaue 
 her so, but with diligent eyes to attend, how sMe beha- 
 ued her selfe to all other, who should haue admittance to [IbJ 
 her, and for that purpose, hauing power to commaund 
 the Bawde , h^^e placed himselfe in the next Chamber, 
 where he might heare, euen to a sillable, whatsocre passed, 
 where he was no sooner setled with a former charge giuen 
 to the bawd, that any man should have accesse to her, but [20] 
 by turnes, he heard she had also won others, and preserued 
 herselfe from them , as she had formerly done against him, 
 gaining tenne times as much of profite by her prayers and 
 teares , as she should haue doone by prostituting her beau- 
 ty to their willes: at last, all of them being departed, and [2a] 
 the house vnfrequented , onely of their owne housholde, 
 and of Ihe douernour, the bawde sl:anding ready at the 
 doore, as hde should goe out, making his obeysaunce vn- 
 to liim as hee should retirt'ne, in hope of his fee or rewarde, 
 h6e wilh an angry brow turned towards him saying , V'il- [30] 
 laine, thou hast a house heere, the weight of whose sinnc 
 would sincke the foundation, euen vnto hell, did not 
 the vcrtue of one that is lodged therein, k^epe it standing; 
 and so, as it \\ere inraged, giuing them nothing he depar- 
 ted. By which displeasure of his, the whole SAvarmc of [35] 
 bawdes (as truely it was) ghessed, that their new te- 
 nant 
 
[68] 31 pattcrnc of tlje jjaitiffuU Jltnunturrs 
 
 naunt, had not b(5eiie pliant to his will: and all rushing iti 
 hastily vppoii her, first taking away the golde which the 
 charitie (and not iniiiry of all who had beene there) had 
 giuen her to rel6eue her with, they cried against her, they 
 
 [5] should be all vndoone by her, their house would grow vn- 
 customed, and Iheir trading would fall to decay, by her 
 squeamishnesse, and want of familiaritie to their Clients, 
 resoluing now, that there was no way to bring her vnto 
 Iheir bowe, but by hauing her rauished. For it is to he 
 
 [10| noted, not any that parted the house besides Cyftiunclius, 
 but euen as he did, so they in like manner rayled against 
 them, so forcibly had hir perswasions preuailed with them: 
 whereupon, for that purpose they gaue her vp to the Pan- 
 dar, who first agreed for her, saying; That he that had 
 
 [13J bargained for the whole ioynt, it was fittest lor him to cut 
 a morsell from off the spit. So leauing them together, and 
 telling him, they gaue her vp to his power, to doe euen 
 what he would wilh her: the man and wife (though both 
 bawdes) departed, when the pandar going to her, tolde 
 
 [20] her, that he, his master, nor their antient family would 
 as thus long they bad b(5ene, be vndoone by ere a Puritane 
 p6ece of them all. And therefore quoth he; Come on and 
 resolue your selfe without more whining, for I am but 
 the bawdes seruant. The bawde hath commaunded me, 
 
 [2b] and euery seruant by the Indenture of his duety, is bound 
 to obey his master: So catching her rashly by the hand, as 
 he would haue inforced her to his will; she lirst calling on 
 5liailrt patronesse of Chastitic to defend her, fell likewise 
 downe at his feete, and besought him hut to heare her: 
 
 [30] which being graunled, she dcmaunded of him what thing 
 he could wish himselfe to be, \\liich was more vile than 
 he was, or more hatefull than he would make himselfe to 
 be? Why my master or my mistris (quoth the villaiue) I 
 thinke, who haue all the sinnes subiect to mankind raign- 
 
 [35] ing in them, and are (ind^ede) as bad as the Diuell him- 
 selfe: yet (quoth ittrtrina) thou goest about to be worse then 
 
 they. 
 
* 
 
 of |j£rti-lc!5 pnncc of Z}nt. [69] 
 
 Ihin-, and lo doc an oflice at their setting on, wliich thy ma- 
 ster himselfc hath more pilty then to attempt, to robhe me 
 of mine lionoui-, which in spile of them and tliee, the Gods 
 (who I hope will protect it still) haue till this breathing 
 protected, to leprous my chast thogbts, with remembrance [3J 
 of so foule a deede, which thou then slialt haue doone, to 
 damne thine owne soide, by vndooing of mine. At which 
 word, the \illaine being slrucke into some remorce, and 
 standing in a pawse, ittrtrillit went forward, and tolde 
 him; If thou wantest golde, there is some for thee (part of[ioj 
 that she had reserued which before was giuen hir, from the 
 bawdes knowledge :) or if tbon wantest maintenaunce, 
 prouide mce but some residence in an honest house, and I 
 haue ex])crience in many things which shall labour for 
 thee, as namely, I am skilfuU in the seauen ]jiberall Sci- [ISJ 
 ences, well exercised in all studies, and dare approoue this, 
 that ray skill in singing and playing on Instruments ex- 
 ceeds any in the cilty: therefore (cinoth she) as thou before 
 didst proclame my beuty in the market to the open world, 
 whereby to haue made me a common prostitute, so now a- [20] 
 gayne proclame my \ertues vnto them, and I doubt not 
 but this honorable citty will alToord scbnllcrs sufficient, the 
 iiistruc'ing of whonie will returne profile enough, both to 
 re|iav the Maister what bee payed out for me, prouide an 
 honoster course for thee then this thou liuest in; and giue [2oJ 
 a quiet content vnto my selfe. Sooth (quoth the Villaiue) 
 being now mooned vnto much more compassion of her; If 
 you haue (as you say) these qualities, I will' labour with 
 ray Master, and doe my best for your I'clcase. If not (an- 
 swered iUaviiin, I giue thee hee leauc to bring nie backe a- [30j 
 ^aine , and prostitute me to that course which was first 
 pretended fur me. In briefe, the Villaine so laboured 
 with I he bawde bis maisler, that though hie woulde not 
 giue her Icaue to depait his house, yet in hope of the pro- 
 fit, whicii would come in by her other qualities, she should [.33] 
 stay in bis house, and none, with her former gr(5cuances 
 
 I disturbe 
 
[70] 21 pattcrnc of tl)c ^jainefull Jttiumtm'fs 
 
 (listurbe her, and withall, charged Ihe Pander, to set vp 
 a Bill in the Market place, of her excellencie in speaking, 
 and in singing. At the report of which there crowded as 
 many to the bawdes great profile to be delighted with her 
 [S] woorlh, as there came before to haue made spoyle of her 
 vertue, and not any man but gaiie her money largely, and 
 departed contented, onely aboue the rest (he Lorde Cgfi' 
 inad)us had euermore an especiall regarde in (he preserua- 
 tion of her safety no otherwise than if she had beene descen- 
 [lO]ded from himsejfe, and rewarded the villaine very libe- 
 rally for the diligent care bee had ouer her. 
 
 The eleuenth Chapter. 
 
 |oM) Pericles after fourftfeite ijceres olifenrc, orriiifli ot 
 Tharsus, mill itot finblnj) I)i8 ba«})l)tfr, iQiiicntcli l)cr 
 [13] fuppofcb kati): onb I)01b Inking fl)ip ngflinf, l)c idqs 
 bi; rroffe ujinbea briuen to Meteline, tul)erc I)i8 bnugl)- 
 ler Marina iDfls: cnb l)oiu bi) tl)c mcnncs of |)rinft 
 Lysirnachus rommiiifl aboorbt l)js fljippc to romfortc 
 l)tin, lie rame to tl)e hnoiDlebo^ "f ^t^ lojl bflui)l)t(r, anb 
 
 [20] fllfo of l)is wife Thaysa. 
 
 Auing thus preserued ittanna, our Story 
 glues vs now leaue to returne againe to 
 Prince |Jei*icli:$ , who after fourel6ene 
 yeares absence arriued at ^ I) a i" fits, and 
 was receiued into the house ol Clcon and 
 iDjjOllgfa, with whome bee had left his 
 yoong daughter iEatina to be fosj^red vp. At the newes of 
 whose comming, Clcoit and Bjjonjjftt againe apparrelled 
 themselues in mournfuU habites , went out to m^ete him : 
 [30] who when |)(;ricU$ beheld in so sad an out-side; My tru- 
 sty friends , what cause inforceth you to glue so sad a wel- 
 come to my entertainement? my good Lord, answered 
 Jlgcrngfa, would any tongue but ours might be the herald 
 
 of 
 
of ^fvtclcs pxxnce of Zfite. [71] 
 
 of your mis-hap: but sorrovves pipes will burst, haue they 
 not vent, and you of force must knowe illaciiia is dead. 
 Which when JJfnclcs heard, the very word Death seemed 
 hke an edge that cut his heart, his flesh trembled , and his 
 strength failed : yet in that agony a long time standing a- [3] 
 mased, with his eyes intentiuely fixed on the ground, and 
 at length recouering himselfe , and taking breath , hee 
 first cast his eyes vppe to heauen, saying; you Godsl 
 extreamity of passion dooth make mee almost ready to ac- 
 cuse you of iniuslice. And then throwing his eyes gr(5edi-[lO] 
 ly vpon her. But woman, quoth hee, If (as thou sayest) 
 my most deere illatittit be dead, is the money and the trea- 
 sure which I also left with you for her, perished with her? 
 When she aunswered ; Some is , and some yet remaineth. 
 And as for your daughter (my Lord) lest you shoulde anie[l3] 
 way suspect vs, we haue sufficient wilnesse: for our Ci- 
 tizens being mindefull of your benefites bestowed vppon 
 them, haue erected vnto her a monument of brasse fast by 
 yours. And when she had so said, she brought foorth such 
 money, lewclis, and apparrell as it pleased her to say were [20] 
 remayning of ^tanitncsi store. Wherevppon |j£t;iclcs gl- 
 uing credite to this report of her death , he commaunded 
 his seruants to take vp what she had brought, and beare 
 them to his shippes, while he himselfe would goe visite 
 his daughters monument. Which when he beheld , and P^] 
 had read the Epitaph, as before written, his affection ^ 
 brake_jiut into his eies, and he expressed more actuail sor- 
 row for the losse of her then Inditement can expresse: first, 
 tumbling himselfe vppon her monument, he then fell into 
 a swownd, as if, since he might not leaue all his life with [30] 
 her, yet he would leaue halfe at least, from which trance 
 being at the length recouered , h6e apparrelles himselfe in 
 sacke-cloth, running hastily vnto his shippes, desirelh 
 ithe Sea to take him into their wombe, since neither land 
 nor water was fortunate vnto him; for the one had bereft [So] 
 him of a daughter, the other of a wife. But as befitted 
 
 I 2 them, 
 
[72] 3 ynttrrtie of tl)e pntncfuU ^ItixtniturfS 
 
 llie, being most careful of liis safty, tliey vscd their best pcr- 
 swusions, to asswage this tempest of his sorrow; present- 
 ly, as much as might be in such a case, they preuayled, 
 and partly by time, which is a curer of all cares, coulimi- 
 [5] ally mitligated some part of the griefe. When bee percci- 
 uing the winde to stand fitle for their departure, li('^e hou- 
 sed vj3iie sailes, aud ganc farewell to the shourc, nor bad 
 Ihey long sailed in their course, but the winde came about 
 into a contrary qiiartei-, and blew so liercely that it trou- 
 
 [10] bled both sea and shippes, the rainc fell fiercely from a- 
 bouc, and the sea wrought \\oonderoiisly vnderncath, so 
 that the tempest being terrible for the lime, it was in that 
 extreamitie thought liltcst lo sti'il<c_ sajlc, lo let the Ilehnc 
 goe, and to suffer the sbijjpe to driue with the tide, whi- 
 
 [15] ther it would please the gods lo direct it: But as loy euer- 
 more succeedeth lleauinesse, so was this sharpe storme 
 occasion of a ioyful meeting, betwixt this sorrowful father, 
 and his lost daughter; for while Prince pcvirlc$ shippe is 
 thus gouerned at randon, by fortune it slriketh vppon the 
 
 [20]shoare of the Cittie lllftclittc, where now iUanita remai- 
 ned, of whose death he (as before) being fully perswaded, 
 in whose life he had hope his decayed comfortes should a- 
 gaine haue had new growth. And being now agayne at 
 sea , he vowed to bimselfe neucr more to haue fellowshippc 
 
 [2S] or conference with any man , charging all his folowers, of 
 whome i^clgcituil!; was one, that none of them vpon the 
 paine of bis displeasure (and who is ignorant that the dis- 
 pleasure of kings is as daungerous as death) should dare 
 to speake vnto him: no not so much as (hey who attended 
 
 [30] him with meatc, and withall commaunded theui, that 
 they should not ordayne for him any more but so small a 
 competence , as might euen scarcely maintaine nature, 
 accompting now that life which he possessed, tedious to 
 him , and wishing death in the most \u(riendly languish- 
 
 [33] ment. In which state while he consisted, pining of his l)o- 
 dy, and perplexed in minde, it happened, that at one selfe 
 
 same 
 
of ptxidc^ pnncc of 2;j)w. [73J 
 
 same lime Lord ijcljjcanus going from the Pj-inces shippe, 
 and landing on the shoarc, the Gouernour i'j)fnttacl)U$, 
 who (as before is mentioned) tenderd ittitnua, was stan- 
 ding at the hauen, and noting |Jcnrl(;s ships riding tliere 
 at tinlser, he beganne with himselfe to commend the come- [SJ 
 linesse of the vessells, and applaiide the state they vphelde 
 in their burthens, and in especially, that of the Admirall, 
 wherein the Prince himselfe was, who s6eing ^clgraniis 
 come on shoare, and his graue and reuerent countenance 
 promising him, to be a father of experience, and worthy of [10] 
 his conference, bee in curteous manner saluted him, and 
 demaunded of him, of whence those shippes were, for sir 
 quoth he, by their armes and ensignes 1 perceiue they are 
 strangers to our harbours, as also that it would please him 
 to deliuer to him who was the owner of them, when ^C' [1^*] 
 Igcanus, as in the whole Storie, discoursed vnto him his 
 misfortunes, as also of his former woorth, and his pre- 
 sent langiiishment , from which he could not he remooued, 
 neither by his owne wisedome, nor by the counsell of his 
 friends. When fj)ftiuad)ilSi pittying his ruiue, in treated [20] 
 ^elgrauiis that he might speake with him, whereby to try 
 if his perswasions had power to preuayle with him more 
 then the will of himselfe, or power of his subiects. Which 
 being by ■Qflgcatuts graunted, he foorthwith conducted 
 him downe where his Maister lay : whom when f gfima' [23] 
 d.)USi beheld , so attired from the ordinary habite of other 
 men, as with a long ouer-growne beard, diffused hayre, 
 vndecent nayles on his lingers, and himselfe lying vppon 
 his cowch groueling on his face. He somewhat astonished 
 at the strangenes thereof, caled vnto him with a soft voice, [30] 
 Prince pnidce ^ who hearing himselfe named, and thin- 
 king it to be some of his men, that called vpon him contra- 
 ry to his commaundement, bee arose vp sodainely with a 
 fierce countenaunce : but seeing him to be a stranger, verie 
 comely and honourably attyred, h6e shruncke himselfe [38] 
 downe vppon his pillow, and held his peace. When fg" 
 
 I 3 fiinad)U« 
 
[74] ^ pattmw of tlje ^atncfuU 3ibu«ntuwsi 
 
 ftmad)its deraaunded of ^cltcttmi« if it were his custome to 
 be so silent to all men. Sir, it is quoth he, and hath con- 
 tinued so for the space of this moneth, neither dare any of 
 vs his subiecis, though we suffer much sorrow for him, by 
 [5] o\n' perswasions seeke to alter him. How surely quoth fjj- 
 ftlttftd)U$, though his misfortunes haue beene great, and 
 by which he hath great cause for this sorrow, it is great 
 pitty he should continue thus peruerse and obstinate, or 
 so noble a gentleman come to so dishonorable a death : and 
 
 [10] thereuppon bethinking with himselfe what honourable 
 nieanes he might vse to recouer him. He sodainely re- 
 membring the wisedom that he had known iiltftrina had in 
 perswasion: and hauing heard since of her excellent skill 
 in musicke, singing and dauncing : he by the consent of 
 
 [15] ^clycaitus caused her to be sent for, resoluing with him- 
 selfe, that if the excellencie of her ministry had no power to 
 worke on him, all phisicke was in vaine, and he from 
 thence would resigne him ouer to his graue. The messen- 
 ger speedily is returned, bringing iittaviuit along with him: 
 
 [20] whome when fgfiinttd)U« beheld, UlitniHt quoth he, let me 
 request of th6e, thy help and vttermost knowledge in com- 
 forting the owner of this shippe which lieth in darkenesse, 
 and will receiue no comfort, nor come abroade into the 
 light, for the sorrow that he conceiueth through the losse of 
 
 [25] a wife and a daughter. From which if thou recouer hiin, 
 and to his former health restore him, 1 will, as I am a 
 Gentleman , giue thee in recompence thirtie sistercies of 
 golde, and as many of siluer, and though the bawd hath 
 bought thee, according to the laws of our citty, from whom 
 
 [30] no authoritie can compell th6e , yet for thirtie dayes will 
 I redeeme lh<5e. Which when ittitrillft heard, sh6e went 
 boldely downe into the cabine to him, and with a mildc 
 voyce saluted liini, saying; God sane you sir, and be of 
 good comfort, for an innocent Virgin, whose life hath l)in 
 
 [35] distressed l)y shipwrack , and her chaslity by dishonesty, and 
 halli yol bin pnscrued from both, thus curteously salulelh 
 
 thee : 
 
of ptxicle^ ^xxnu of Sigrc. [75] 
 
 th6e: but perceuing him to y6eld her no answer, she began 
 to record in verses, and therewithal! to sing so sw6etely, 
 that peticUSy notwithstanding his great sorrow, woonde- 
 red at her, at last, taking vp another instrument vnto his 
 eares she preferred this. [S] 
 
 :2tin0UJ3|l t|)C l)ftrlot« fonk 3 raalke, 
 
 ^et l)ixrtot ncm am 3; 
 
 tJDI)e ^ofc itittongft tijc ^|)0ntes isotl) gtoto, 
 
 2tnlr is not jjurt tijewbg. 
 
 ^I)« mjitfe tjjttt ftolt mc fww 3 tljtuke, t^''] 
 
 3« ftaiitf before t|)is time, 
 
 21 i3an)I(£ me bougljt, get am 3 not 
 
 Deftilie bg flefljlg mmc: 
 
 ftotl)titg toetre plcafanter to me, 
 
 ■SDljen parents mine to knora. [15] 
 
 3 am tl)e iffue of a Sing, 
 
 ittg btooli from fiings trootl) ftoio : 
 
 3n time tlje Ijeanens mixg mentt mg ftitte, 
 
 2tnlr fenJf a better Itag, 
 
 £ox forroM) alilres »nto onr griefes, [2o] 
 
 6nt jjelps not ang raag: 
 
 Sljen) glaJrncffe in gonr ronntenaunee, 
 
 Caft »p gour xi)cerefnU eies, 
 
 l^ijat ©oil rematnes, tl)at once of nougljt 
 
 Created €artl) anft Skies. PS] 
 
 With this Musicke of iltarinaes, as with no delight 
 else was he a whit altered, but lay grouehng on his face, 
 onely casting an eye vppon her, as h6e were rather discon- 
 tented than delighted with her indeuour. Whereupon she 
 beganne with morall precepts to reprooue him , and tolde [30] 
 him, that h6e was borne a Prince, whose dignity being 
 to gouerne others, it was most foule in him to misgouerne 
 bimselfe. Which while he continued in that sullen estate, 
 he did no lesse, thus to mom'ne for the losse of a wife and 
 
 childe, 
 
 [6] 
 
[76] 21 patteritc of tl)t :pamfn\i :^mmtViX(^ 
 
 chilcle, or at any of his owne mis fortunes, approoued that 
 he was an enemy to the authoritie of the heauens, whose 
 power was to dispose of him and his , at their pleasure : 
 and that it was as vnfltte for him to repine (for his conti- 
 [8] nuing sorrow shewed he did no lesse) against their deter- 
 minations and their vnaltered willes, as it was for the 
 Giants to make warre against the Gods, who were con- 
 founded in their enterprise. Not fitte to sorrow, quoth he, 
 
 V rising vp hke a Cloude, that bespeakes thunder; presump- 
 
 [10] tuous bewty in a childe , how darest thou vrge so much ? 
 and therewithal], in this rash distemperature , strucke her 
 on the face. When she, who ueuer vntill that time knew 
 what blowes were , fell sodainely in a swowne : but hie- 
 ing againe recouered, sh6e cryed out; humilitie! ordai- 
 
 [if>] ned especially for Princes , who hauing power ouer all, 
 shuld contemne none, whither art thou fled? then w6eping 
 a while; And you Gods I creators both of heauen and 
 earth, looke vppon my afflictions, and take compassion 
 vppon me, that am vnfortunate in all things, I haue bin 
 
 [20] tossed from wrong to iniurie , 1 was borne amongest the 
 wanes and troublesome tempests of the Sea , my mother 
 died in paines and pangs of child-birth, and huriall was 
 denyed her on the earth, whome my father adorned with 
 lewelles layd golde at her head, and siluer at her f6ete, and 
 
 [25] inclosing her in a Chest, committed her to the Sea : As 
 for me vnfortunate wretch, my father, who with prince- 
 ly furniture, put me (in trust) to Clcon and JUgonjifrt, who 
 commanded a seruant of theirs to murder me, from whose 
 cruelty by Pirates I was rescewed, brought by them to 
 
 [30] this Citty, and sold to haue b6ene hackneyd by a common 
 Bawde, though (I thanke the heauens) I haue preser- 
 ued my chastity; and now after al these crosses, for my cur- 
 tesies to be strucke thus to bleeding! cruel fate! By 
 which tale of hers, |)mciJe being mooued, since by all the 
 
 [35J circumstances he ghessed she was his childe, and yet not 
 knowing whether he might bel6eue himselfe to be awake, 
 
 or 
 
of ptxicie^ jpvina of Sgw. [77J 
 
 or in a dreame, he beganne agayne to capitulate with her, 
 of her former relation, as namely, where she was borne, 
 who were her parents, and what her name was. To the 
 which she answered, My name is Mama, and so called 
 because I was borne vpon the sea. my Jllama cryed out [8] 
 pctidcs^ being strucke into such an extasie of ioy that h6e 
 was not able to containe himselfel willing her agayne to 
 discourse vnto him the storie of her misfortunes, for h6e 
 could not heare too much. Which she obeying him in, and 
 he knowing her to be his childe, seeing that the supposed [10] 
 dead was risen again, he falls on hir necke, and kisses her, 
 calles vpon ^clgcanits to come vnto him, shewes him his 
 daughter, biddes him to kneele to her, thanketh fgftinO' 
 d)USi that so fortunately had brought her to begette life in 
 the father who begot her ; so one while weeping at others [IS] 
 ioying, and his senses being masterd by a gentle conque- 
 rour, in that extreamitie of passion, he fell into a slumber: 
 in which sw6et sl6epe of his, h6e was by SJitttttt, warned to 
 hie to (Spl)£fus: and there vpon the Altare of that Goddesse 
 to offer vjjpe his sacrifice before the Priests, and there to [20] 
 discourse the whole progresse of his life: which he remem- 
 bring, being awake, he accordingly shipped himselfe with 
 €y^fmad)n&^ iffaritta, and his owne subiects to perfourme. 
 Who lauding at €pl)£fu)S, and giuing notice of the purpose, 
 for which he was come, he was by all the Priests and Vo-[25] 
 taries attended to the Temple; and being brought to the 
 Altare, this was the substance of his sacrifice, I |)£ri^ 
 dcs borne Prince of ®gr£, who hauing in youth attained 
 to all kinde of knowledge, resolued the Riddle of 2ltttio^ 
 d)ll« . to the intent to haue married his daughter , whome [30] 
 he most shamefully defiled. To preserue my selfe from 
 whose anger, I fled to sea, suffered shipwracke, was cur- 
 teously entertained by good Q^monilBts king of |)<;tttapoli«, 
 and after espoused his faire daughter i;i)a8fa. At the nam- 
 ing of whome, she her selfe being by, could not choose but [33] 
 starte: for in this Temple was she placed to be a Nunne, 
 
 K by 
 
[78] 21 pottmw 0f t\)t poincfuU 2lIiunttur£Si 
 
 by Lord Cerilttfln, who preserued her life. But |)encl£$ go- 
 ing on, when ;2tnti(id)ll« and his daughter, quoth he, were 
 by lightning slrucke dead from heauen, I conducted my 
 Queene with me from her fathers Court, with purpose 
 [S] to receiue againe my kingdome: where vpon the sea shee 
 was deliuered of this my daughter, in that trauell she died, 
 whom I inclosed in a Chest, and threw it into the Sea. 
 When (Iljagfa standing by, and no longer being able to 
 temper her affections, being assured he was her Lord, sh6e 
 
 [10] ranne hastily vnto him, imbraced him in her armes, and 
 would haue kissed him. Which when ||)£miw sawe, h6e 
 was mooued with disdaine, and thrust her from him, ac- 
 cusing her for lightnes, whose modesty and good grace h6e 
 at his first entrance did commend, when she falling at his 
 
 [lS]f6ete, and powring foorth her teares aboundantly, glad- 
 nesse compelled her to crie out,- my Lord |Ji;mle«, deale 
 not vngently with me, 1 am your wife, daughter vnto Sjj' 
 montlr««, my name is iKIjagfa, you were my Schoolemai- 
 ster, and instructed me in musicke, you are that Prince 
 
 [20]whome I loued, not for concupiscence, but desire of wise- 
 dome, I am she which was deUuered and died at the sea, 
 and by your owne hands was buryed in the d^epes ; which 
 wordes of hers. Lord Cenmon standing by, he was rea- 
 dy to auerre, but it needed not: for |Jjriclc«, though at the 
 
 [25] first astonished, ioy had now so reuiued his spirites, that 
 h6e knew her to be herselfe : but throwing his head into her 
 bosome, hauing nothing but this to vtter, he cried aloude, 
 you heauensl my misfortunes were now againe bles- 
 sings, since w6e are agayne contracted ; so giuing his 
 
 [30] daughter to her armes to embrace her as a child and fgft' 
 madjua to enfolde her as a wife, and giuing order the so- 
 lemnity of marriage should strait be prouided for : he then 
 caused the bawd to be burnt, who with so much labor had 
 sought to violate her princely chastitie, whilest itlama 
 
 [33] rewarded the pandar, who had b6ene so faithfull to hir: and 
 then after he had s6ene hir mariage with fijtmad)u«, he lea- 
 
 ueth 
 
of pmcU& pxittcc of tgw. [79] 
 
 uelh €pl)£fits, and jnteniles for l^grf, taking |)cnt(tpoti« in 
 his way, whome by the death of good Sgmottiires, as law- 
 ful heire, he was made soueraigne. He also highly rewar- 
 ded the poore Fisher-men, who had relieued him. From 
 thence he arriued at ^l)arfus, where h6e reuenged himselfe[S] 
 of Clc0n and SJgonafci, by stoning them to death. From 
 thence to liDgtre, where peaceably he was receiued into his 
 kingdome, and giuen also possession of all the territories 
 of :3^nttod)US, where by his wife, though in the declining 
 of both their y6eres , it pleased the Gods to blesse him [10] 
 with a Sonne, who growing to the lusty strength of youth, 
 and the father declining to his graue, age being no lon- 
 ger able to be sustained by the benefite of nature, fell into 
 certayne colde and dry diseases: in which case, the know- 
 ledge of his Physitions , could stand him in little steade, [is] 
 eyther by their cunning or experience, (so as no remedie 
 being to be found against death) being in perfect memorie, 
 he departed this hfe in the armes of his beloued ^ijagfa, 
 and in the middest of his friendes, nobles, ahes and chil- 
 dren in great honour, his kingdome of ^gfus he gaue by [20] 
 will to f8ftmad)U« and his daughter ittat'ina, and to their 
 heires after them for euer, who lined long together, and 
 had much comfort by their issue. Vnto his Qu6ene 'Eljaj)' 
 fa he gaue the two kingdoraes of :2lttti0d) and fentttpolis for 
 tearme of her life, and at her death to descend to her yong [2!J] 
 Sonne Sgntonitrcsi, But Zl)a^fa who could not then he yong 
 since WmrUs died olde, continued not long in her widows 
 estate, but pining much with sorrow, and wearing with 
 age, forsooke the present worlde, leaning her two 
 
 kingdomes (according to her fathers will) [30] 
 
 to her yoong sonne Sglttffm&es. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
A list of the typographical errors of the original edition, 
 intentionally repeated in this reprint. 
 
 (The mere variations pf spelling and minor instanse§ of negligent punctuation 
 
 are explnded) 
 
 Page 3. line 24. instead of stalke. A read staike: A 
 „ 7. „ 28. „ „ him „ his 
 
 „ 18. „ 13. , „ tyrants,) poyson .... meanes, he 
 
 read tyrants, poyson .... meanes), be 
 „ „ „ 21. 22. instead of life,) , . . sustenaunce? 
 read life, . . . sustenaiince?) 
 ,X2S- » 14. instead of ref uge read refuge 
 „ 26. „ 7. „ „ so „ to 
 
 „ „ „ 14. „ „ theraine „ the raine 
 „ 27. „ 9. „ „ l^exidee, „ ptxicUe 
 „ 28. „ 3. 4. „ „ him, quoth fertfUs? read him? quoth ^t)mcU«. 
 „ „ „ 22, „ „ minde. read minde, 
 „ 29. „ 17. 18. „ „ other „ others of. 67, 15. 
 
 „ „ „ 21. „ „ Fisher |men „ Fisher- 1 men 
 „ „ „ 30. It is hardly discernible, whether the old text 
 
 have seated or feated. 
 „ 30. „ • 9. instead of ptaixexet read ij)tottexxt 
 „ „ , 13. „ „ q«i „ que - 
 
 „ „ „ 26. „ „ Hue. „ Hue: 
 
 „ 31. „ 2. „ „ all, as „ all as 
 
 „ 32. „ 1. „ „ him. „ him: 
 
 „ „ „ 19. „ „ accepting. „ accepting: 
 „ 33. „ 29. 30. „ „ them. The strangenessc 
 
 we may read them : The strange newes 
 „* 34. „ 26. instead of dislike vpon him, 
 we may read dislike, vpon him, 
 „ 40. „ 22. „ „ constancie. While read constancie, while 
 „ „ „ 26. „ „ heclapt „ he clapt 
 
 „ 41. „ 2. the s of thoughtes is turned. 
 „ „ „ 32. „ n „ absent „ „ 
 „ 42. „ 16. instead of state) in safety, read state in safety) 
 „ „ „ 32. „ „ of her. „ of her: 
 
 „ 43. „ 26. 27. „ „ of of „ of 
 
 „ 44. „ 1. „ „ there „ there, 
 
 „ 44. „ 2. , „ there „ there, 
 
 „ 46. „ IS. „ » cutte to ®l)arfus) and 
 
 read cutte) to '^\)axfns, and Cf. p. 6, I. 21, 
 
age 46. 
 
 line 34. 
 
 „ 47. 
 
 „ 29. 
 
 , 48. 
 
 „ 2. 
 
 » » 
 
 „ 14. 
 
 » » 
 
 „ 19. 
 
 „ 49. 
 
 „ 12. 
 
 » » 
 
 „ 29. 3 
 
 , 80. 
 
 „ 13. 
 
 82. 
 
 53. 
 84. 
 
 58, 
 56. 
 57. 
 89. 
 
 » 
 
 60. 
 61. 
 62. 
 64. 
 66. 
 
 66. 
 
 n 
 
 67. 
 68. 
 69. 
 
 72. 
 73. 
 74. 
 
 » 
 
 76. 
 
 77. 
 
 stead of ,this read .This 
 „ „ quoth ^tndta, read 
 „ „ recspire „ 
 
 „ lier, „ 
 
 the y 0^ ayre is turned. 
 29. 30. Irackets seem to be required. 
 
 cf. 48, 14. 
 
 23. <Ae first h o/" which m turned. ' 
 31. 32. instead of you, and all this Citty 
 read you and all this Citty, 
 7. instead o/" yeur read jour 
 33. tAe second e of fostered is turned. 
 „ instead of bp read vp 
 
 „ „ mother read your 
 
 quoth he, ^e»ricle«, 
 respire 
 
 her, 
 
 37. 
 
 22. „ „ 
 
 17. „ „ 
 
 read 
 12. instead of 
 
 1. „ 
 
 10. „ „ 
 IS. „ „ 
 
 ^* » » 
 
 2. n It 
 
 29. 
 16. 
 
 Innrfe 
 
 vnexpert, 
 vnexpert) 
 or or read 
 ward, „ 
 him. „ 
 ef „ 
 
 hid. „ 
 
 SiOV. 
 otherwise. 
 
 Klurft 
 
 . . . meale) 
 . . . meale, 
 or 
 
 ward, 
 him, 
 of 
 hid: 
 fieno 
 read otherwise; 
 
 the t of beauty is turned, 
 instead of he told, read ,he told 
 67. The head-line of page 66. ought to stand on page 67,, 
 
 and vice versa, 
 instead of sinn es read sinnes 
 
 „ „ Gentlewoman read Gentleman 
 
 2. 
 
 25. 26, 
 15. 
 
 3. 
 30. 
 
 1. 
 29. 
 
 2. 
 11. 
 
 1. 
 
 5. 
 
 7. 
 18, 
 
 other 
 
 „ others cf. 
 
 29, 
 
 17. 18. 
 
 iniury of . 
 MXatim, 
 
 safty 
 face. 
 
 .. there) read iniury) 
 read iJlartjto) 
 
 „ safety 
 face: 
 
 of. 
 
 .. theje, 
 
 men. 
 
 „ men: 
 
 
 
 him. 
 
 „ him: 
 
 
 
 mis fortunes „ misfortunes 
 
 
 
 iilatrina 
 
 iWatina ! 
 
 
 
 himselfel 
 
 „ himselfe, 
 
 
 
 at 
 
 » .at 
 
 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PR2388.W3P14 1857 
 
 Pericles, prince of Tyre; a novel, by Geor 
 
 3 1924 013 126 390 
 
V. 
 
 
 
 * 
 
 tv^cp 
 
 - -*©'^ ^ 
 
 
 i>