PERICLES. Now, mild may be thy life! For a more blustrous birth had never babe: Quiet and gentle thy conditions! for Thou art the rudeliest welcome to this world That ever was prince’s child. Happy what follows! Thou hast as chiding a nativity As fire, air, water, earth, and heaven can make, To herald thee from the womb. Even at the first thy loss is more than can Thy portage quit, with all thou canst find here, Now, the good gods throw their best eyes upon’t! Enter two Sailors FIRST SAILOR. What courage, sir? God save you! PERICLES. Courage enough: I do not fear the flaw; It hath done to me the worst. Yet, for the love Of this poor infant, this fresh new sea-farer, I would it would be quiet. FIRST SAILOR. Slack the bolins there! Thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow, and split thyself. SECOND SAILOR. But sea-room, and the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon, I care not. FIRST SAILOR. Sir, your queen must overboard: the sea works high, the wind is loud and will not lie till the ship be cleared of the dead. PERICLES. That’s your superstition. FIRST SAILOR. Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it has been still observed; and we are strong in custom. Therefore briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight. PERICLES. As you think meet. Most wretched queen! LYCHORIDA. Here she lies, sir. PERICLES. A terrible childbed hast thou had, my dear; No light, no fire: th’unfriendly elements Forgot thee utterly; nor have I time To give thee hallow’d to thy grave, but straight Must cast thee, scarcely coffin’d, in the ooze; Where, for a monument upon thy bones, And e’er-remaining lamps, the belching whale And humming water must o’erwhelm thy corpse, Lying with simple shells. O Lychorida. Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper, My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander Bring me the satin coffer: lay the babe Upon the pillow: hie thee, whiles I say A priestly farewell to her: suddenly, woman. [_Exit Lychorida._] SECOND SAILOR. Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulked and bitumed ready. PERICLES. I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this? SECOND SAILOR. We are near Tarsus. PERICLES. Thither, gentle mariner, Alter thy course for Tyre. When canst thou reach it? SECOND SAILOR. By break of day, if the wind cease. PERICLES. O, make for Tarsus! There will I visit Cleon, for the babe Cannot hold out to Tyrus. There I’ll leave it At careful nursing. Go thy ways, good mariner: I’ll bring the body presently. [_Exeunt._] 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.