Page 191 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

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, [80]
And yet the fire of life kindle again

The o’erpressed spirits. I beard of an Egyptian
That had nine hours lain dead,
Who was by good appliance recovered.
Enter one with napkins and fire.
Well said, well said, the fire and cloths. [85]

The rough and woeful music that we have,
Cause it to sound, beseech you.
Music.

The viol once more! How thou stirrest, thou block!
The music there!
Music again.
I pray you give her air. [90]
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 [95]

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 praisèd water doth appear [100]
To make the world twice rich. Live,