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       Noble sir,

       If you have told Diana’s altar true,

       This is your wife.

       PERICLES.

       Reverend appearer, no;

       I threw her overboard with these very arms.

       CERIMON.

       Upon this coast, I warrant you.

       PERICLES.

       ‘Tis most certain.

       CERIMON.

       Look to the lady; O, she’s but o’er-joy’d.

       Early in blustering morn this lady was

       Thrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,

       Found there rich jewels; recover’d her, and placed her

       Here in Diana’s temple.

       PERICLES.

       May we see them?

       CERIMON.

       Great sir, they shall be brought you to my house,

       Whither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is

       Recovered.

       THAISA.

       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?

       PERICLES.

       The voice of dead Thaisa!

       THAISA.

       That Thaisa am I, supposed dead

       And drown’d.

       PERICLES.

       Immortal Dian!

       THAISA.

       Now I know you better,

       When we with tears parted Pentapolis,

       The king my father gave you such a ring.

       [Shows a ring.]

       PERICLES.

       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.

       MARINA.

       My heart

       Leaps to be gone into my mother’s bosom.

       [Kneels to Thaisa.]

       PERICLES.

       Look, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;

       Thy burden at the sea, and call’d Marina

       For she was yielded there.

       THAISA.

       Blest, and mine own!

       HELICANUS.

       Hail, madam, and my queen!

       THAISA.

       I know you not.

       PERICLES.

       You have heard me say, when did fly from Tyre,

       I left behind an ancient substitute:

       Can you remember what I call’d the man

       I have named him oft.

       THAISA.

       ‘Twas Helicanus then.

       PERICLES.

       Still confirmation:

       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.

       THAISA.

       Lord Cerimon, my lord; this man,

       Through whom the gods have shown their power; that can

       From first to last resolve you.

       PERICLES.

       Reverend sir,

       The gods can have no mortal officer

       More like a god than you. Will you deliver

       How this dead queen re-lives?

       CERIMON.

       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 placed here in the temple;

       No needful thing omitted.

       PERICLES.

       Pure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! I

       Will offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa,

       This prince, the fair-betrothed of your daughter,

       Shall marry her at Pentapolis. And now,

       This ornament

       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.

       THAISA.

       Lord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir,

       My father’s dead.

       PERICLES.

       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.

       [Exeunt.]

       [Enter Gower.]

       GOWER.

       In Antiochus and his daughter you have heard

       Of monstrous lust the due and just reward:

       In Pericles, his queen and daughter, seen,

       Although assail’d with fortune fierce and keen,

       Virtue preserved from fell destruction’s blast,

       Led on by heaven, and crown’d with joy at last:

       In Helicanus may you well descry

       A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty:

       In reverend Cerimon there well appears

       The worth that learned charity aye wears:

       For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame

       Had spread their cursed deed, and honour’d name

       Of Pericles, to rage the city turn,

       That him and his they in his palace burn;

       The gods for murder seemed so content

       To punish them although not done but meant.

       So, on your patence evermore attending,

       New joy wait on you! Here our play has ending.

       [Exit.]

       THE END