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way.

We'll bave no more gentlemen driven away.
Come your ways, I say.

Re-enter Bawd.
Bawd. How now! what's the matter?

Boult. Worse and worse, mistress ; she has here spoken holy words to the lord Lysimachus.

Bawd. O abominable! Boult. She makes our profession as it were to stink afore the face of the gods.

Bawd. Marry, hang her up for ever!

Boult. The nobleman would have dealt with her like a nobleman, and she sent him away as cold as a showball; saying his prayers too.

Bawd. Boult, take her away; use her at thy pleasure : crack the glass of her virginity, and make the rest malleable.

Boult. An if she were a thornier piece of ground than she is, she shall be ploughed.

Mar. Hark, hark, you gods!

Bawd. She conjures: away with her. Would stre had never come within my doors! Marry hang you! She's born to undo us. Will you not go the way of women-kind ? Marry come up, my dish of chastity with rosemary and bays!

[Exit Bawd.
Boult. Come, mistress; come your way with me.
Mar. Whither would you have me?
Boult. To take from you the jewel you hold so dear.
Mar. Prythee tell me one thing first.
Boult. Come now, your one thing.
Mar. What canst thou wish thine enemy to be?

Boult. Why, I could wish him to be iny master, or rather, my mistress.

Mar. Neither of these are yet so bad as thou art,
Since they do better thee in their command.
Thou hold'st a place, for which the pained'st fiend
Of bell would not in reputation change :
Tbou’rt the damn'd door-keeper to every coystrel
That hither comes inquiring for his tib:
To the choleric fisting of each rogue thy ear

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Is liable; thy very food is such
As hath been belch'd on by infected lungs.

Boult. What would you have me do? go to the wars, would you? where a man may serve seven years for the loss of a leg, and have not money enough in the end to buy him a wooden one.

Mar. Do any thing but this thon doest. Emply
Old receptacles, common sewers, of filth;
Serve by indenture to the common hangman;
Any of these ways are better yet than this:
For that which thou professest, a baboon,
Could be but speak, would own a name too dear.
O that the gods would safely from this place
Deliver me! Here, here is gold for thee.
If that thy master would gain ought by me,
Proclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance,
With other virtues, which I'll keep from boast;
And I will undertake all these to teach.
I doubt not but this populous city will
Yield many scholars.

Boult. But can you teach all this you speak of?

Mar. Prove that I cannot, take me home again,
And prostitute me to the basest groom
That doth frequent your house.

Boult. Well, I will see what I can do for thee: if I can place thee, I will.

Mar. But, amongst honest women?

Boult. 'Faith, my acquaintance lies little amongst them. But since my master and mistress have bought you, there's no going but by their consent; therefore I will make them acquainted with your purpose, and I doubt not but I shall find them tractable enough. Come, I'll do for thee wbat I can; come your ways.

[Exeunt.

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Enter GoWER.
Gow. Marina thus the brothel 'scapes, and chances
Into an honest house, our story says.
She sings like one immortal, and she dances
As goddess-like to her admired Jays:
Deep clerks she dumbs; and with her neeld composes
Nature's own shape, of bud, bird, branch, or berry;
That even her art sisters the natural roses:
Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied cherry:
That pupils lacks she none of noble race,
Who pour their bounty on her; and her gain
She gives the corsed bawd. Here we her place;
And to her father turn our thoughts again,
Where we left him, on the sea. We there him lost;
Whence, driven before the winds, he is arriv'd
Here where his daughter dwells; and on this coast
Suppose him now at anchor. The city strivd
God Neptune's annual feast to keep: from whence
Lysimachus our Tyrian ship espies,
His banners sable, trimm'd with rich expense ;
And to him in his barge with fervour bies.

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In your supposing once more pat your sight;
of heavy Pericles think this the bark :
Where, what is done in action, more, if might,
Shall be discover'd; please you, sit, and bark. [Exit.

SCENE I.
On board PERICLES' Ship, off MITYLENE. A close

Pavilion on Deck, with a Curtain before it; PERICLES
within it, reclined on a Couch. A Barge lying beside

the TYRIAN Vessel. Enter two Sailors, one belonging to the TYRIAN Vessel,

the other to the Barge; to them HELICANUS. Tyr. Sail. Where's the lord Helicanus? he can resolve you.

[To the Sailor of Mitylene.
O here he is.
Sir, there's a barge put off from Mitylene.
And in it is Lysimachus the governor,
Who craves to come aboard. What is your will ?

Hel. That he have his. Call up some gentlemen.
Tyr. Sail. Ho, gentlemen! my lord calls.

Enter two Gentlemen.
1 Gent. Doth your lordship call?

Hel. Gentlemen, There is some of worth would come aboard; I pray you, To greet them fairly. [The Gentlemen and the two

Sailors descend, and go on board the Barge.
Enter, from thence, LYSIMACHƯs and Lords; the

TYRIAN Gentlemen, and the two Sailors.
Tyr. Sail. Sir,
This is the man that can, in aught you would,
Resolve you.

Lys. Hail, reverend sir! The gods preserve you!

Hel. And you, sir, to outlive the age I am,
And die as I would do.
Lys.

You wish me well,
Being on shore, honouring of Neptune's triumphs,
Seeing this goodly vessel ride before us,
I made to it, to know of whence you are.

Hel. First, sir, what is your place?

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To any.

Lys. I am governor of this place you lie before.

Hel. Sir,
Our vessel is of Tyre, in it the king ;.
A man, who for this three months hath not spoken
To any one, nor taken sustenance,
But to prorogue his grief.

Lys. Upon what ground is his distemperature?

Hel. Sir, it would be too tedious to repeat;
But the main grief of all springs from the loss
Of a beloved daughter and a wife.

Lys. May we not see him, then ?
Hel.

You may indeed, sir,
But bootless is your sight; he will not speak
Lys. Yet let me obtain

my

wish. Hel. Behold him, sir: [Pericles discovered) this was

a goodly person, Till the disaster, that, one mortal night, Drove him to this.

Lys. Sir, king, all hail! the gods preserve you! Hail, Hail, royal sir!

Hél. It is in vain; he will not speak to you.

1 Lord. Sir, we have a maid in Mitylene, I durst wager,
Would win some words of him.
Lys.

'Tis well bethought.
She, questionless, with her sweet harmony
And other choice attractions, would allore,
And make a battery through his deafen'd parts,
Which now are midway stoppid;
She, all as happy as of all the fairest,
Is, with her fellow maidens, now within
The leafy shelter that abuts against
The island's side.

[He whispers one of the attendant Lords.

Exit Lord, in the Barge of Lysimachus.
Hel. Sure, all's effectless; yet nothing we'll omit
That bears recovery's name. But, since your kindness
We bave stretch'd ihus far, let us beseech you further,
That for our gold we may provision have,
Wherein we are not destitute for want,
But weary for the staleness.

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