SCENE II. Ephesus. A room in CERIMON's house. Pericles, Prince of Tyre  Shakespeare homepage  |  Pericles  | Act 3, Scene 2 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE II. Ephesus. A room in CERIMON's house. 

 Enter CERIMON, with a Servant, and some Persons who have been shipwrecked  CERIMON  Philemon, ho! 



 Enter PHILEMON  PHILEMON  Doth my lord call? 

 CERIMON  Get fire and meat for these poor men: 

 'T has been a turbulent and stormy night. 

 Servant  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 minister'd to nature 

 That can recover him. 



 To PHILEMON  Give this to the 'pothecary, 

 And tell me how it works. 



 Exeunt all but CERIMON 

 Enter two Gentlemen  First Gentleman  Good morrow. 

 Second Gentleman  Good morrow to your lordship. 

 CERIMON  Gentlemen, 

 Why do you stir so early? 

 First Gentleman  Sir, 

 Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea, 

 Shook as the earth did quake; 

 The very principals did seem to rend, 

 And all-to topple: pure surprise and fear 

 Made me to quit the house. 

 Second Gentleman  That is the cause we trouble you so early; 

 'Tis not our husbandry. 

 CERIMON  O, you say well. 

 First 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 compell'd. 

 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 practise, made familiar 

 To me and to my aid the blest infusions 

 That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones; 

 And I 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. 

 Second Gentleman  Your honour has through Ephesus pour'd 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 ne'er decay. 



 Enter two or three Servants with a chest  First Servant  So; lift there. 

 CERIMON  What is that? 

 First Servant  Sir, even now 

 Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest: 

 'Tis of some wreck. 

 CERIMON  Set 't down, let's look upon't. 

 Second 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. 

 Second Gentleman  'Tis so, my lord. 

 CERIMON  How close 'tis caulk'd and bitumed! 

 Did the sea cast it up? 

 First Servant  I never saw so huge a billow, sir, 

 As toss'd it upon shore. 

 CERIMON  Wrench it open; 

 Soft! it smells most sweetly in my sense. 

 Second Gentleman  A delicate odour. 

 CERIMON  As ever hit my nostril. So, up with it. 

 O you most potent gods! what's here? a corse! 

 First Gentleman  Most strange! 

 CERIMON  Shrouded in cloth of state; balm'd 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 drive 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 livest, Pericles, thou hast a heart 

 That even cracks for woe! This chanced tonight. 

 Second Gentleman  Most likely, sir. 

 CERIMON  Nay, certainly to-night; 

 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 a Servant  Death may usurp on nature many hours, 

 And yet the fire of life kindle again 

 The o'erpress'd spirits. I heard of an Egyptian 

 That had nine hours lien dead, 

 Who was by good appliance recovered. 



 Re-enter a Servant, with boxes, napkins, and fire  Well said, well said; the fire and cloths. 

 The rough and woeful music that we have, 

 Cause it to sound, beseech you. 

 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! 

 First 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 praised water 

 Do appear, to make the world twice rich. Live, 

 And make us weep to hear your fate, fair creature, 

 Rare as you seem to be. 



 She moves  THAISA  O dear Diana, 

 Where am I? Where's my lord? What world is this? 

 Second Gentleman  Is not this strange? 

 First 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 look'd to, 

 For her relapse is mortal. Come, come; 

 And AEsculapius guide us! 



 Exeunt, carrying her away  Shakespeare homepage  |  Pericles  | Act 3, Scene 2 

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