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- # Pericles Prince of Tyre.
## Enter Lord Cerymen with a fernant.
**Cery:** Phylemon, hoe.
## Enter Phylemon.
**Phyl.** Doth my Lord call?
**Cery.** Get Fire and meat for these poore men,
T’as been a turbulent and stormie night.
**Sern.** I haue been in many; but such a night as this,
Till now, I neare endured:
**Cery.** Your Maister will be dead ere you returne,
There’s nothing can be ministred to Nature,
That can recouer him: giue this to the Pothecary,
And tell me how it workses.
## Enter two Gentlemen.
1. **Gent.** Good morrow.
2. **Gent.** Good morrow to your Lordship,
**Cery.** Gentlemen, why doe you stirre so early?
1. **Gent.** Sir, our lodgings standing bleake vpon the sea,
Shooke as the earth did quake:
The very principals did seeme to rend and all to topple:
Pure surprize and seare, made me to quize the house.
2. **Gent.** That is the cause we trouble you so early,
T’is not our husbandry.
**Cery.** O you say well.
1. **Gent.** But I much maruaile that your Lordship,
Hauing rich tire about you, should at these early howers,
Shake off the golden slumber of repose; tis most strange
Nature should be so conuerfant with Paine,
Being thereto not compelled.
**Cery.** I hold it euer Vertue and Cunning,
Were endowments greater, then Noblenesse & Riches;
Careless Heyres, may the two latter darken and expend;
But Immortalitie attendes the former,
Making a man a god:
T’is knowne, I euer haue studied Physecke:
Through which secret Art by turning ore Authorities,
E 3.
I haue
III. ii. 1—33
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