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 it!

Enter two Sailors.

1 Sail. What courage, sir? God save you. Per. 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.

1 Sail. Slack the bowlines there; thou wilt not, wilt thou? Blow and split thyself.

2 Sail. But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss the moon, I care not.

1 Sail. Sir, your queen must overboard; the sea works high, the wind is loud, and will not lie till the ship be clear'd of the dead.

Per. That's your superstition.

1 Sail. Pardon us, sir; with us at sea it still hath been observed; and we are strong in earnest. Therefore briefly yield her; for she must overboard straight.

Per. Be it as you think meet.-Most wretched queen!

Lyc. Here she lies, sir.

Per. A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my dear; No light, no fire: the 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 aye-remaining lamps, the belching whale,
And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse,
Lying with simple shells. Lychorida,
Bid Nestor bring me spices, ink and paper,
My casket and my jewels; and bid Nicander
Bring me the sattin coffer: lay the babe
Upon the pillow; hie thee, whiles I say
A priestly farewel to her: suddenly, woman.
[Exit. Lychorida.

2 Sail. Sir, we have a chest beneath the hatches, caulk'd and bitumed ready.

Per. I thank thee. Mariner, say what coast is this?

2 Sail. We are near Tharsus.

Per. Thither, gentle mariner,

Alter thy course for Tyre. When can'st thou reach it?

2 Sail. By break of day, if the wind cease.

Per. O make for Tharsus.

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, a Servant, and some persons who have been shipwrecked.

Cer. Philemon, ho!

Enter Philemon.

Phil. Doth my lord call?

Cer. Get fire and meat for these poor men; It has been a turbulent and stormy night. Serv. I have been in many; but such a night as this,

Till now, I ne'er endur'd.

Cer. Your master will be dead ere you return; There's nothing can be minister'd to nature,

That can recover him. Give this to the 'pothe

cary,

And tell me how it works.

[To Philemon.

[Exeunt Philemon, Servant, and those who had

1 Gent. Sir,

Our lodgings, standing bleak upon the sea,
Shook, as the earth did quake;

The very principals did seem to rend,
And all to topple: pure surprize and fear
Made me to quit the house.

2 Gent. That is the cause we trouble you so

early;

'Tis not our husbandry.

Cer.

O, you say well.

1 Gent. But I much marvel that your lordship,

having

Rich tire about you, should at these early hours Shake off the golden slumber of repose.

It is most strange,

Nature should be so conversant with pain,
Being thereto not compell'd.

Cer.

I held it ever,

Virtue and cunning were endowments greater

Than nobleness and riches: careless heirs
May the two latter darken and expend;
But immortality attends the former,
Making a man a god. 'Tis known, I ever
Have studied physick, through which secret art,
By turning o'er authorities, I have

(Together with my practice,) made familiar
To me and to my aid, the blest infusions
That dwell in vegetives, in metals, stones;
And I can speak of the disturbances

That nature works, and of her cures; which gives

me

A more content in course of true delight
Than to be thirsty after tottering honour,
Or tie my treasure up in silken bags,
To please the fool and death.

2 Gent. Your honour has through Ephesus pour'd
forth

Your charity, and hundreds call themselves
Your creatures, who by you have been restor❜d:
And not your knowledge, personal pain, but even
Your purse, still open, hath built lord Cerimon
Such strong renown as time shall never-

Enter Two Servants with a Chest.

Serv. So; lift there.

Cer.

What is that?

Sero.

Sir, even now

Did the sea toss upon our shore this chest;

"Tis of some wreck.

Cer.

Set 't down, let's look on it.

Whate'er it be,

2 Gent. "Tis like a coffin, sir.

Cer.

'Tis wondrous heavy. Wrench it open straight;

If the sea's stomach be o'ercharg'd with gold,

It is a good constraint of fortune, that

It belches upon us.

2 Gent,

'Tis so, my lord.

Cer. How close 'tis caulk'd and bitum'd!

Did the sea cast it up?

Serv. I never saw so huge a billow, sir,

As toss'd it upon shore.