_Here I give to understand, If e’er this coffin drives 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 tonight; 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 lain dead, Who was by good appliance recovered. Re-enter a Servant with 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 sets up your fame for ever. 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 doth 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._] SCENE III. Tarsus. A room in Cleon’s house. Enter Pericles, Cleon, Dionyza and Lychorida with Marina in her arms. PERICLES. Most honour’d Cleon, I must needs be gone; My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands In a litigious peace. You and your lady, Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods Make up the rest upon you! CLEON. Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally, Yet glance full wanderingly on us. DIONYZA. O, your sweet queen! That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither, To have bless’d mine eyes with her! PERICLES. We cannot but obey The powers above us. Could I rage and roar As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end Must be as ’tis. My gentle babe Marina, Whom, for she was born at sea, I have named so, Here I charge your charity withal, Leaving her the infant of your care; Beseeching you to give her princely training, That she may be manner’d as she is born.