GOWER

Thus time we waste, & long league make short, Sail seas in Cockles, have and wish but fort, Making to take our imagination, From bourn to bourn, region to region, By you being pardoned we commit no crime, To use one language, in each several climb, Where our scenes seems to live, I do beseech you To learn of me who stand with gaps To teach you. The stages of our story Pericles Is now again thwarting thy wayward sea , Attended on by many a Lord and Knight, To see his daughter all his lives delight. Old Helicanus goes along behind, Is left to govern it, you bear in mind. Old Escenes, whom Hellicanus late Advanced in time to great and High estate. Well sailing ships, and bounceous winds Have brought This king to Tharsus, think this Pilot thoug to So with his steerage, shall your thoughts groan To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone Like moats and shadows, see them Move a while, Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile. In Antiochus and his daughter you have herd Of monstrous lust, the endue and joust reward: In Pericles his Queen and Daughter seen, Although assayl'de with Fortune fierce and keen. Virtue preferred from fell destructions blast, Led on by heaven, and crowned with joy at last. In Helycanus may you well descry, A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty: In reverend C rimon there well appears, The worth that learned charity aye wears. For wicked Cleon and his wife, when Fame Had spread his cursed deed, the honoured name Of Pericles, to rage the City turn, That him and his they in his Palace burn: The gods for murder seemed so content, To punish, although not done, but meant. So on your Patience evermore attending, New joy wait on you, here our play has ending. See how belief may suffer by fowl show, This borrowed passion stands for true old woe: And Pericles in sorrow all devoured, With sighs shot through, and biggest tears over-showered. Leaves Tharsus, and again imbarques, he swears Never to wash his face, nor cut his hairs: He put on sackcloth, and to Sea he bears, A Tempest which his mortal vessel tears. And yet he rides it out, Now please you wit: The Epitaph is for Marina writ, by wicked Dioniza. The fairest, sweetest, and best lies here, Who withered in her spring of year: She was of Tyrus the Kings daughter, On whom fowl death hath made this slaughter. Marina was she call worser, and at her birth, Thetis bein proud, swallowed some partly earth: Therefore the earth fearing to be overflowed, Hath Thetis byr h-childe on the heavens bestowed. Wherefore she does and swears sheele never sti to, Make raging Battery upon shores of flint. No vizor does become black villainy, So well as soft and tender flattery: Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead, And bear his courses to be ordered; By Lady Fortune, while our Steer must play, His daughters woe and heavy welladay. In her unholy service: Patience then, And think you now are all in Mittelin. Now our sands are almost run, More a little, and then dum. This my last boon give me, For such kindness must relieve me: That you aptly will suppose, What pageantry, what feats, what shows, What minstrelsy, and pretty din, The Regent made in Metalin, To greet the King, so he thrived, That he is promised to be wined To fair Marina, but in no wise, Till he had done his sacrifice. As Dian bade, whereto being bound, The Interim pray, you all confound. In fetherd briefness sails are filled, And wishes fallen out as they're wild, At Ephesus the Temple see, Our King and all his company. That he can hither come so soon, Is by your fancies thankful doom. My recompense is thanks, thats all, Yet my good will is great, though the gift small. Imagine Pericles arriude at Tyre, Welcomed and settled to his own desire: His woeful Queen we leave at Ephesus; Unto Diana ther's a Votarisse. Now to Marina bend your mind, Whom our fast growing seen must find At Than sus and by Cl n trained In Mu icks letters, who hath gained Of education all the grace, Wh changed makes High both the art and place Of gene all wonder: but alack That to more ster wrack Of praise, arin ife Seek to take off by treasons knife, And in this kind, our Cl on hath Oh e daughter and a full grown wench, Even right for marriage ight: this Maid and it is said For certain in our story, she Would e r with Marina be. Beet when they weau e the eded silk, W that fingers long, small, white as milk, Or when she would with sharp needle wound, The Cambricke which she made more found By hurting it or when too'th Lu e She sung, and made the night bed mute, That st ll records with moan, or when She would with rich and constant pen, V le to her Mistress Worser and still, That S Phylaten contends in skill With absolute Marina: so The Dove of Pap os might with the cro Vie feathers white, Marina gets All praises, which are paid as debts, And not as g ven, this so darks In Phyl ten all graceful marks, That Cl ns wife with Envy rare, A present murderer does prepare For good Marina, that her daughter Might stand peerless by this slaughter. The sooner her vile thoughts to stead, our nurse is dead, And cursed Worser oh za hath The pregnant instrument of wrath. Pressed for this blow, the vnbor e vent, I do commend to your content, Only I carri worser winged Time, Post one the lame eat of my rhyme, Which never coul I so conum y, Vnl sse your thoughts went on my way, Dioniza oes appear, With Leo in a murth rer.