Pericles Prince of Tyre.
Enter Lychorida.
Lychor.Heere is a thing too young for such a place,
Who if it had conceit, would die, as I am like to doe:
Take in your armes this peece of your dead Queene.
Who if it had conceit, would die, as I am like to doe:
Take in your armes this peece of your dead Queene.
Peri.How? how Lychorida?
Lycho.Patience (good sir) do not assist the storme,
Heer's all that is left liuing of your Queene;
A litle Daughter: for the sake of it,
Be manly, and take comfort.
Heer's all that is left liuing of your Queene;
A litle Daughter: for the sake of it,
Be manly, and take comfort.
Per.O you Gods!
Why do you make vs loue your goodly gyfts,
And snatch them straight away? We heere below,
Recall not what we giue, and therein may
Vse honour with you.
Why do you make vs loue your goodly gyfts,
And snatch them straight away? We heere below,
Recall not what we giue, and therein may
Vse honour with you.
Lycho.Patience (good sir) euen for this charge.
Per.Now mylde may be thy life,
For a more blusterous birth had never Babe:
Quiet and gentle thy conditions; for
Thou art the rudelyest welcome to this world,
That euer was Princes Child: happy what followes,
Thou hast as chiding a natiuitie,
As Fire, Ayre, Water, Earth, and Heauen can make,
To harould thee from the wombe:
Euen at the first, thy losse is more then can
Thy portage quit, with all thou canst find heere:
Now the good Gods throw their best eyes vpon't.
For a more blusterous birth had never Babe:
Quiet and gentle thy conditions; for
Thou art the rudelyest welcome to this world,
That euer was Princes Child: happy what followes,
Thou hast as chiding a natiuitie,
As Fire, Ayre, Water, Earth, and Heauen can make,
To harould thee from the wombe:
Euen at the first, thy losse is more then can
Thy portage quit, with all thou canst find heere:
Now the good Gods throw their best eyes vpon't.
Enter two Saylers.
1. Sayl.What courage sir? God saue you.
Per.Courage enough, I do not feare the flaw,
It hath done to me the worst: yet for the loue
Of this poore Infant this fresh new sea-farer,
I would it would be quiet.
It hath done to me the worst: yet for the loue
Of this poore Infant this fresh new sea-farer,
I would it would be quiet.
1. Sayl.Slacke the bolins there; thou wilt not wilt thou?
Blow and split thy selfe.
Blow and split thy selfe.
2. Sayl.But Sea-roome, and the brine and cloudy billow
Kisse the Moone, I care not.
Kisse the Moone, I care not.
1. Sayl.
