The temple of Diana at Ephesus.
(Pericles; Lysimachus; Helicanus; Marina; Marina’s Lady)
Thaisa, high priestess at the Temple, stands by the altar as Pericles, obedient to Diana’s command, gives a public statement of his tale. She almost faints when she realizes that this is her husband, whom she supposed dead, and her daughter. Cerimon explains to the disbelieving Pericles that Thaisa wasn’t actually dead. They trade confirming details to reassure each other that they aren’t dreaming. All is unfolded, and there is much rejoicing. (98 lines)
Enter Pericles with his Train: Lysimachus, Helicanus, Marina, and a Lady.
Hail, Dian! To perform thy just command,
I here confess myself the King of Tyre,
Who frighted from my country, did wed
At Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.
At sea in child-bed died she, but brought forth
A maid-child call’d Marina, whom, O goddess,
Wears yet thy silver livery. She at Tharsus
Was nurs’d with Cleon, who at fourteen years
He sought to murder, but her better stars
Brought her to Mytilene, ’gainst whose shore
Riding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,
Where, by her own most clear remembrance, she
Made known herself my daughter.
Voice and favor!
You are, you are—O royal Pericles!
What means the nun? She dies, help, gentlemen!
If you have told Diana’s altar true,
This is your wife.
Reverent appearer, no,
I threw her overboard with these very arms.
Upon this coast, I warrant you.
’Tis most certain.
Look to the lady; O, she’s but overjoy’d.
Early in blustering morn this lady was
Thrown upon this shore. I op’d the coffin,
Found there rich jewels, recovered her, and plac’d her
Here in Diana’s temple.
May we see them?
Great sir, they shall be brought you to my house,
Whither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is
O, let me look!
If he be none of mine, my sanctity
Will to my sense bend no licentious ear,
But curb it, spite of seeing. O my lord,
Are you not Pericles? Like him you spake,
Like him you are! Did you not name a tempest,
A birth, and death?
The voice of dead Thaisa!
That Thaisa am I, supposed dead
Now I know you better.
When we with tears parted Pentapolis,
The King my father gave you such a ring.
Points to his ring.
This, this. No more, you gods! Your present kindness
Makes my past miseries sports. You shall do well
That on the touching of her lips I may
Melt, and no more be seen. O, come, be buried
A second time within these arms.
Leaps to be gone into my mother’s bosom.
Kneels to Thaisa.
Look who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa,
Thy burden at the sea, and call’d Marina
For she was yielded there.
Blest, and mine own!
Hail, madam, and my queen!
I know you not.
You have heard me say, when I did fly from Tyre,
I left behind an ancient substitute.
Can you remember what I call’d the man?
I have nam’d him oft.
’Twas Helicanus then.
Embrace him, dear Thaisa, this is he.
Now do I long to hear how you were found,
How possibly preserved, and who to thank
(Besides the gods) for this great miracle.
Lord Cerimon, my lord; this man,
Through whom the gods have shown their power; that can
From first to last resolve you.
The gods can have no mortal officer
More like a god than you. Will you deliver
How this dead queen relives?
I will, my lord.
Beseech you first, go with me to my house,
Where shall be shown you all was found with her;
How she came plac’d here in the temple;
No needful thing omitted.
I bless thee for thy vision, and will offer
Night-oblations to thee. Thaisa,
This prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter,
Shall marry her at Pentapolis. And now
Makes me look dismal will I clip to form,
And what this fourteen years no razor touch’d,
To grace thy marriage-day, I’ll beautify.
Lord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir,
My father’s dead.
Heavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen,
We’ll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves
Will in that kingdom spend our following days.
Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.
Lord Cerimon, we do our longing stay
To hear the rest untold. Sir, lead ’s the way.