Tarsus. Before the Monument of Marina.
 Enter GOWER.

Gower	Thus time we waste, and long leagus make short,
	Sail seas in cockles, have and wish but for't,
	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 clime
	Where our scene seems to live. I do beseech you
	To learn of me, who stand wi'th' gaps to teach you
	The stages of our story. Pericles
	Is now again thwarting the wayward seas,
	Attended on by many a lord and knight,
	To see his daughter, all his life's delight.
	Old Helicanus goes along. Behind
	Is left to govern it, you bear in mind,
	Old Escanes, whom Helicanus late
	Advanced in Tyre to great and high estate.
	Well-sailing ships and bounteous winds have brought
	This king to Tarsus - think his pilot thought;
	So with his steerage shall your thoughts grow on-
	To fetch his daughter home, who first is gone.
	Like motes and shadows see them move awhile;
	Your ears unto your eyes I'll reconcile.

                                Dumb Show.

             Enter PERICLES, at one door, with all his TRAIN;
                     CLEON and DIONYZA at the other.
CLEON shows PERICLES the tomb, whereat PERICLES makes lamentation, puts on     
    sackcloth, and in a mighty passion departs, followed by his TRAIN.
                      Then exeunt CLEON and DIONYZA.

	See how belief may suffer by foul show!
	This borrowed passion stands for true old woe;
	And Pericles, in sorrow all devoured,
	With sighs shot through, and biggest tears o'ershowered,
	Leaves Tarsus, and again embarks. He swears
	Never to wash his face nor cut his hairs;
	He puts 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 Dionyza.

	[Reads the epitaph.]
		"The fairest, sweetest, and best lies here,
		Who withered in her spring of year.
		She was of Tyrus the king's daughter,
		On whom foul death hath made this slaughter.
		Marina was she called; and at her birth,
		Thetis, being proud, swallowed some part o'th' earth.
		Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflowed,
		Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestowed;
		Wherefore she does, and swears she'll never stint,
		Make raging battery upon shores of flint."

	No visor does become black villainy
	So well as soft and tender flattery.
	Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,
	And bear his courses to be orderd
	By Lady Fortune; while our scene must play
	His daughter's woe and heavy welladay
	In her unholy service. Patience then,
	And think you now are all in Mytilen.
										[Exit.
