Act 2, Scene III

SCENE III. The same. A hall of state: a banquet prepared.

Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, Attendants, and Knights, from tilting
SIMONIDES
Knights,
To say you're welcome were superfluous.
To place upon the volume of your deeds,
As in a title-page, your worth in arms,
Were more than you expect, or more than's fit,
Since every worth in show commends itself.
Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast:
You are princes and my guests.

THAISA
But you, my knight and guest;
To whom this wreath of victory I give,
And crown you king of this day's happiness.

PERICLES
'Tis more by fortune, lady, than by merit.

SIMONIDES
Call it by what you will, the day is yours;
And here, I hope, is none that envies it.
In framing an artist, art hath thus decreed,
To make some good, but others to exceed;
And you are her labour'd scholar. Come, queen o'
the feast,--
For, daughter, so you are,--here take your place:
Marshal the rest, as they deserve their grace.

KNIGHTS
We are honour'd much by good Simonides.

SIMONIDES
Your presence glads our days: honour we love;
For who hates honour hates the gods above.

Marshal
Sir, yonder is your place.

PERICLES
Some other is more fit.

First Knight
Contend not, sir; for we are gentlemen
That neither in our hearts nor outward eyes
Envy the great nor do the low despise.

PERICLES
You are right courteous knights.

SIMONIDES
Sit, sir, sit.

PERICLES
By Jove, I wonder, that is king of thoughts,
These cates resist me, she but thought upon.

THAISA
By Juno, that is queen of marriage,
All viands that I eat do seem unsavoury.
Wishing him my meat. Sure, he's a gallant gentleman.

SIMONIDES
He's but a country gentleman;
Has done no more than other knights have done;
Has broken a staff or so; so let it pass.

THAISA
To me he seems like diamond to glass.

PERICLES
Yon king's to me like to my father's picture,
Which tells me in that glory once he was;
Had princes sit, like stars, about his throne,
And he the sun, for them to reverence;
None that beheld him, but, like lesser lights,
Did vail their crowns to his supremacy:
Where now his son's like a glow-worm in the night,
The which hath fire in darkness, none in light:
Whereby I see that Time's the king of men,
He's both their parent, and he is their grave,
And gives them what he will, not what they crave.

SIMONIDES
What, are you merry, knights?

Knights
Who can be other in this royal presence?

SIMONIDES
Here, with a cup that's stored unto the brim,--
As you do love, fill to your