1    Yet cease your ire, you angry stars of heaven!
2    Wind, rain, and thunder, remember, earthly man
3    Is but a substance that must yield to you;
4    And I, as fits my nature, do obey you:
5    Alas, the sea hath cast me on the rocks,
6    Wash'd me from shore to shore, and left me breath
7    Nothing to think on but ensuing death:
8    Let it suffice the greatness of your powers
9    To have bereft a prince of all his fortunes;
10   And having thrown him from your watery grave,
11   Here to have death in peace is all he'll crave.

12   What, ho, Pilch!

13   Ha, come and bring away the nets!

14   What, Patch-breech, I say!

15   What say you, master?

16   Look how thou stirrest now! come away, or I'll
17   fetch thee with a wanion.

18   Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that
19   were cast away before us even now.

20   Alas, poor souls, it grieved my heart to hear what
21   pitiful cries they made to us to help them, when,
22   well-a-day, we could scarce help ourselves.

23   Nay, master, said not I as much when I saw the
24   porpus how he bounced and tumbled? they say
25   they're half fish, half flesh: a plague on them,
26   they ne'er come but I look to be washed. Master, I
27   marvel how the fishes live in the sea.

28   Why, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the
29   little ones: I can compare our rich misers to
30   nothing so fitly as to a whale; a' plays and
31   tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at
32   last devours them all at a mouthful: such whales
33   have I heard on o' the land, who never leave gaping
34   till they've swallowed the whole parish, church,
35   steeple, bells, and all.

Aside
36    A pretty moral.

37   But, master, if I had been the sexton, I would have
38   been that day in the belfry.

39   Why, man?

40   Because he should have swallowed me too: and when I
41   had been in his belly, I would have kept such a
42   jangling of the bells, that he should never have
43   left, till he cast bells, steeple, church, and
44   parish up again. But if the good King Simonides
45   were of my mind,--

Aside
46    Simonides!

47   We would purge the land of these drones, that rob
48   the bee of her honey.

Aside
49    How from the finny subject of the sea
50   These fishers tell the infirmities of men;
51   And from their watery empire recollect
52   All that may men approve or men detect!
53   Peace be at your labour, honest fishermen.

54   Honest! good fellow, what's that? If it be a day
55   fits you, search out of the calendar, and nobody
56   look after it.

57   May see the sea hath cast upon your coast.

58   What a drunken knave was the sea to cast thee in our
59   way!

60   A man whom both the waters and the wind,
61   In that vast tennis-court, have made the ball
62   For them to play upon, entreats you pity him:
63   He asks of you, that never used to beg.

64   No, friend, cannot you beg? Here's them in our
65   country Greece gets more with begging than we can do
66   with working.

67   Canst thou catch any fishes, then?

68   I never practised it.

69   Nay, then thou wilt starve, sure; for here's nothing
70   to be got now-a-days, unless thou canst fish for't.

71   What I have been I have forgot to know;
72   But what I am, want teaches me to think on:
73   A man throng'd up with cold: my veins are chill,
74   And have no more of life than may suffice
75   To give my tongue that heat to ask your help;
76   Which if you shall refuse, when I am dead,
77   For that I am a man, pray see me buried.

78   Die quoth-a? Now gods forbid! I have a gown here;
79   come, put it on; keep thee warm. Now, afore me, a
80   handsome fellow! Come, thou shalt go home, and
81   we'll have flesh for holidays, fish for
82   fasting-days, and moreo'er puddings and flap-jacks,
83   and thou shalt be welcome.

84   I thank you, sir.

85   Hark you, my friend; you said you could not beg.

86   I did but crave.

87   But crave! Then I'll turn craver too, and so I
88   shall 'scape whipping.

89   Why, are all your beggars whipped, then?

90   O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your
91   beggars were whipped, I would wish no better office
92   than to be beadle. But, master, I'll go draw up the
93   net.

Aside
94    How well this honest mirth becomes their labour!

95   Hark you, sir, do you know where ye are?

96   Not well.

97   Why, I'll tell you: this is called Pentapolis, and
98   our king the good Simonides.

99   The good King Simonides, do you call him.

100  Ay, sir; and he deserves so to be called for his
101  peaceable reign and good government.

102  He is a happy king, since he gains from his subjects
103  the name of good by his government. How far is his
104  court distant from this shore?

105  Marry, sir, half a day's journey: and I'll tell
106  you, he hath a fair daughter, and to-morrow is her
107  birth-day; and there are princes and knights come
108  from all parts of the world to just and tourney for her love.

109  Were my fortunes equal to my desires, I could wish
110  to make one there.

111  O, sir, things must be as they may; and what a man
112  cannot get, he may lawfully deal for--his wife's soul.

113  Help, master, help! here's a fish hangs in the net,
114  like a poor man's right in the law; 'twill hardly
115  come out. Ha! bots on't, 'tis come at last, and
116  'tis turned to a rusty armour.

117  An armour, friends! I pray you, let me see it.
118  Thanks, fortune, yet, that, after all my crosses,
119  Thou givest me somewhat to repair myself;
120  And though it was mine own, part of my heritage,
121  Which my dead father did bequeath to me.
122  With this strict charge, even as he left his life,
123  'Keep it, my Pericles; it hath been a shield
124  Twixt me and death;'--and pointed to this brace;--
125  'For that it saved me, keep it; in like necessity--
126  The which the gods protect thee from!--may
127  defend thee.'
128  It kept where I kept, I so dearly loved it;
129  Till the rough seas, that spare not any man,
130  Took it in rage, though calm'd have given't again:
131  I thank thee for't: my shipwreck now's no ill,
132  Since I have here my father's gift in's will.

133  What mean you, sir?

134  To beg of you, kind friends, this coat of worth,
135  For it was sometime target to a king;
136  I know it by this mark. He loved me dearly,
137  And for his sake I wish the having of it;
138  And that you'ld guide me to your sovereign's court,
139  Where with it I may appear a gentleman;
140  And if that ever my low fortune's better,
141  I'll pay your bounties; till then rest your debtor.

142  Why, wilt thou tourney for the lady?

143  I'll show the virtue I have borne in arms.

144  Why, do 'e take it, and the gods give thee good on't!

145  Ay, but hark you, my friend; 'twas we that made up
146  this garment through the rough seams of the waters:
147  there are certain condolements, certain vails. I
148  hope, sir, if you thrive, you'll remember from
149  whence you had it.

150  Believe 't, I will.
151  By your furtherance I am clothed in steel;
152  And, spite of all the rapture of the sea,
153  This jewel holds his building on my arm:
154  Unto thy value I will mount myself
155  Upon a courser, whose delightful steps
156  Shall make the gazer joy to see him tread.
157  Only, my friend, I yet am unprovided
158  Of a pair of bases.

159  We'll sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to
160  make thee a pair; and I'll bring thee to the court myself.

161  Then honour be but a goal to my will,
162  This day I'll rise, or else add ill to ill.