this sweet lady, he said, “If you are living, Pericles, you have a heart that even cracks with woe.”  Then observing attentively Thaisa’s face, he saw how fresh and unlike death her looks were; and he said, “They were too hasty that threw you into the sea:”  for he did not believe her to be dead.  He ordered a fire to be made, and proper cordials to be brought, and soft music to be played, which might help to calm her amazed spirits if she should revive; and he said to those who crowded round her, wondering at what they saw, “I pray you, gentlemen, give her air; this queen will live; she has not been entranced above five hours; and see, she begins to blow into life again; she is alive; behold, her eyelids move; this fair creature will live to make us weep to hear her fate.”  Thaisa had never died, but after the birth of her little baby had fallen into a deep swoon, which made all that saw her conclude her to be dead; and now by the care of this kind gentleman she once more revived to light and life; and opening her eyes, she said, “Where am I?  Where is my lord?  What world is this?” By gentle degrees Cerimon let her understand what had befallen her; and when he thought she was enough recovered to bear the sight, he shewed her the paper written by her husband, and the jewels; and she looked on the paper, and said, “It is my lord’s writing.  That I was shipped at sea, I well remember, but whether there delivered of my babe, by the holy gods I cannot rightly say; but since my wedded lord I never shall see again, I will put on a vestal livery, and never more have joy.”  “Madam,” said Cerimon, “if you purpose as you speak, the temple of Diana is not far distant from hence, there you may abide as a vestal.  Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine shall there attend you.”  This proposal was accepted with thanks by Thaisa; and when she was perfectly recovered, Cerimon placed her in the temple of Diana, where she became a vestal or priestess of that goddess, and passed her days in sorrowing for her husband’s supposed loss, and in the most devout exercises of those times.

Pericles carried his young daughter (whom he named Marina, because she was born at sea) to Tharsus, intending to leave her with Cleon, the governor of that city, and his wife Dionysia, thinking, for the good he had done to them at the time of their famine, they would be kind to his little motherless daughter.  When Cleon saw prince Pericles, and heard of the great loss which had befallen him, he said, “O your sweet queen, that it had pleased heaven you could have brought her hither to have blessed my eyes with the sight of her!” Pericles replied, “We must obey the powers above us.  Should I rage and roar as the sea does in which my Thaisa lies, yet the end must be as it is.  My gentle babe, Marina here, I must charge your charity with her.  I leave her the infant of your care, beseeching you to give her princely training.”  And then turning to Cleon’s wife, Dionysia, he said, “Good