Ephesus. A Room in Cerimon's House.
 Enter Lord CERIMON, with two weather-beaten POOR MEN.

Cerimon	Philemon, ho!

                             Enter PHILEMON.

Philemon	Doth my lord call?

Cerimon	Get fire and meat for these poor men.
										[Exit PHILEMON.
	'T'as been a turbulent and stormy night.

1st Poor Man	I have been in many, but such a night as this
	Till now I ne'er endured.

Cerimon	Your master will be dead ere you return;
	There's nothing can be ministered to nature
	That can recover him.
		[To 2nd POOR MAN.]	Give this to the pothecary,
	And tell me how it works.
										[Exeunt POOR MEN.
                           Enter TWO GENTLEMEN.

1st Gentleman	Good morrow.

2nd Gentleman	Good morrow to your lordship.

Cerimon	Gentlemen, why do you stir so early?

1st Gentleman	Sir, our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea,
	Shook as th' earth did quake.
	The very principals did seem to rend
	And all to topple. Pure surprise and fear
	Made me to quit the house.

2nd Gentleman	That is the cause we trouble you so early;
	'Tis not our husbandry.

Cerimon	O, you say well.

1st Gentleman	But I much marvel that your lordship,
	Having rich tire about you, should at these early hours
	Shake off the golden slumber of repose. 'Tis most strange,
	Nature should be so conversant with pain,
	Being thereto not compelled.

Cerimon	I hold it ever
	Virtue and cunning were endowments greater
	Than nobleness and riches. Careless heirs
	May the two latter darken and expend,
	But immortality attends the former,
	Making a man a god. 'Tis known I ever
	Have studied physic, through which secret art,
	By turning o'er authorities, I have,
	Together with my practice, made familiar
	To me and to my aid the blest infusions
	That dwells in vegetives, in metals, stones,
	And can speak of the disturbances
	That nature works, and of her cures, which doth give me
	A more content in course of true delight
	Than to be thirsty after tottering honour,
	Or tie my treasure up in silken bags
	To please the fool and death.

2nd Gentleman	Your honour has through Ephesus poured forth
	Your charity, and hundreds call themselves
	Your creatures, who by you have been restored.
	And not your knowledge, your personal pain, but even
	Your purse, still open, hath built Lord Cerimon
	Such strong renown as time shall never raze.

                Enter two or three SERVANTS with a chest.

1st Servant	So, lift there.

Cerimon	What's that?

1st Servant	Sir, even now
	Did the sea toss up upon our shore this chest.
	'Tis of some wreck.

Cerimon	Set't down; let's look upon't.

2nd Gentleman	'Tis like a coffin, sir.

Cerimon	Whate'er it be,
	'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight.
	If the sea's stomach be o'ercharged with gold,
	'Tis a good constraint of fortune it belches upon us.

2nd Gentleman	'Tis so, my lord.

Cerimon	How close 'tis caulked and bitumed! Did the sea cast it up?

1st Servant	I never saw so huge a billow, sir,
	As tossed it upon shore.

Cerimon	Wrench it open.
	Soft! - it smells most sweetly in my sense.

2nd Gentleman	A delicate odour.

Cerimon	As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it.
	O you most potent gods! What's here, a corpse?

1st Gentleman	Most strange!

Cerimon	Shrouded in cloths of state, balmed and entreasured
	With full bags of spices! A passport too!
	Apollo, perfect me in the characters!
	[Reads from a scroll.]
		"Here I give to understand,
		If e'er this coffin drives a-land,
		I, King Pericles, have lost
		This queen worth all our mundane cost.
		Who finds her, give her burying;
		She was the daughter of a king.
		Besides this treasure for a fee,
		The gods requite his charity."

	If thou liv'st, Pericles, thou hast a heart
	That even cracks for woe! This chanced tonight.

2nd Gentleman	Most likely, sir.

Cerimon	Nay, certainly tonight,
	For look how fresh she looks. They were too rough
	That threw her in the sea. Make a fire within;
	Fetch hither all my boxes in my closet.
										[Exit SERVANT.
	Death may usurp on nature many hours,
	And yet the fire of life kindle again
	The o'erpressed spirits. I heard of an Egyptian
	That had nine hours lain dead,
	Who was by good appliances recoverd.

             Re-enter SERVANT, with boxes, napkins, and fire.

	Well said, well said! - the fire and cloths.
	The still and woeful music that we have,
	Cause it to sound, beseech you.
										[Music.
	The viol once more. How thou stirr'st, thou block!
	The music there! I pray you give her air.
	Gentlemen,
	This queen will live. Nature awakes; a warmth
	Breathes out of her. She hath not been entranced
	Above five hours. See, how she 'gins to blow
	Into life's flower again!

1st Gentleman	The heavens,
	Through you, increase our wonder, and set up
	Your fame forever.

Cerimon	She is alive! Behold,
	Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels
	Which Pericles hath lost,
	Begin to part their fringes of bright gold.
	The diamonds of a most praisd water
	Doth appear to make the world twice rich. Live,
	And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,
	Rare as you seem to be.
										[THAISA moves.
Thaisa	O dear Diana,
	Where am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?

2nd Gentleman	Is not this strange?

1st Gentleman	Most rare.

Cerimon	Hush, my gentle neighbours!
	Lend me your hands. To the next chamber bear her.
	Get linen: now this matter must be looked to,
	For her relapse is mortal. Come, come;
	And Aesculapius guide us!
										[Exeunt, carrying out THAISA.
