## Enter Clean the Governour of Tharsus, with his wife and others.

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# Enter Clean the Governour of Tharsus, with his wife and others. ## Overview This entry is a subsection of the play "Pericles Prince of Tyre," detailing a scene where Clean, the Governor of Tharsus, and his wife Dioniza discuss their dire circumstances. The scene is extracted from a file dated January 30, 2026. ## Context This subsection is part of the larger chapter titled "[Pericles Prince of Tyre.](arke:01KG6S4D9NHNM7KP90AY8TKVCC)" The text was extracted from the file "[pdf-01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA)" and is part of the collection "[PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53](arke:01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y)." It follows the subsection "[Enter Hethes, Escapes, with other Lords.](arke:01KG6S5NY810T5H3YTMF4AH8TX)" and precedes the subsection "[## Enter a Lord.](arke:01KG6S5PMXQ7X6W3K5S174N69T)." ## Contents The scene opens with Clean and Dioniza reflecting on their suffering. Clean suggests that recounting their woes might offer some solace, but Dioniza counters that it would only amplify their pain. Clean laments the state of Tharsus, a once prosperous city now ravaged by famine, where people are starving and resorting to desperate measures, even drawing lots to decide who will die first to prolong the lives of others. Dioniza confirms their plight with her own appearance. Clean urges that other prosperous cities should hear of their misery as a warning.

description_generated_at

2026-01-30T06:26:32.878Z

description_model

gemini-2.5-flash-lite

description_title

Enter Clean the Governour of Tharsus, with his wife and others.

end_line

15612

extracted_at

2026-01-30T06:24:08.806Z

extracted_by

structure-extraction-lambda

source_file

01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA

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15541

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## Enter Clean the Governour of Tharsus, with his wife and others. **Clean.** My Dyoniza shall wee rest vs heere, And by relating tales of others griefees, See if t’will teach us to forget our owne? **Dion.** That were to blow at fire in hope to quench it, For who digs hills because they doe aspire? Throwes downe one mountaine to cast up a higher: O my distressed Lord, even such our griefees are, Heere they are but felt, and scene with mischiefs eyes, But like to Groues, being topt, they higher rise. **Clean.** O Dioniza. Who wanteth food, and will not say hee wants it, Or can conceale his hunger till hee samish? Our toungs and sorrowes to sound deeper: Our woes into the aire, our eyes to weepe. Till toungs fetch breath that may proclaim Them louder, that if heaven slumber, while Their creatures want, they may awake Their helpers, to comfort them. Ile then discourse our woes felt, scuerall yeares, And wanting breath to speake, heipe mee with teares. **Dyoniza.** Ile doe my best Syr. (ment, **Clean.** This Tharsus ore which I haue the gouerne A Cittie on whom plentie held full hand: For riches strew’de her selfe cuen in her streetes, Whose <!-- [Page 634](arke:01KG6QMY1V0NDE6K81G6MR78MV) --> # Pericles Prince of Tyre. Whose towers bore heads so high they kill the crowds, And strangers nere beheld, but wondered at, Whose men and dames so jetted and adorn’de, Like one another’s glaise to trim them by, Their tables were flor’de full to glad the sight, And not so much to seede on as delight, All pouertie was scor’nde, and pride so great, The name of helpe grewe odious to repeat. ## Dion. O’tis too true. *Cle.* But see what heaven can doe by this our change, These mouths who but of late, earth, sea, and ayre, Were all too little to content and please, Although thy gaue their creatures in abundance, As houses are defil’de for want of vše, They are now staru’de for want of exercise, Those pallets who not yet too sauers younger, Must have inventions to delight the taft, Would now be glad of bread and beg for it, Those mothers who to nouzell vp their babes, Thought nought too curious, are readie now To eat those little darlings whom they lou’de, So sharpe are hungers teeth, that man and wife, Drawe lots who first shall die, to lengthen life. Heere stands a Lord, and there a Ladie weeping: Heere manie sincke, yet those which see them fall, Have scarce strength left to giue them buryall. ## Is not this true? ## Dion. Our checkes and hollow eyes doe witness it. *Cle.* O let those Cities that of plenties cup, And her prosperities so largely taste, With their superfluous riots heare these teares, The miserie of Thar’ius may be theirs.

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## Enter Clean the Governour of Tharsus, with his wife and others.