Act 5, Scene 3 — Pericles, Prince of Tyre

The argument Diana's temple in Ephesus. Thaisa stands as high priestess. Pericles enters with his company and begins the public testimony Diana commanded: how he lost his wife at sea. Thaisa hears the story, recognizes his voice, and faints. Pericles is alarmed; Cerimon identifies her. Husband and wife recognize each other. Thaisa meets Marina — the daughter she never knew. Pericles announces that Marina and Lysimachus will wed in Pentapolis. He will cut his hair. Cerimon explains the full history of Thaisa's revival. Gower enters to deliver the final epilogue: Cleon and Dionyza have been burned by the people of Tarsus; Pericles and Thaisa are restored to Tyre; all is resolved.

altar, as high priestess; a number of Virgins on each side; Cerimon and

other inhabitants of Ephesus attending.

Enter Pericles with his train; Lysimachus, Helicanus, Marina and a

Lady.

PERICLES ≋ verse [solemn, fulfilling his vow]

Hail, Dian! to perform thy just command,

I here confess myself the King of Tyre;

Who, frighted from my country, did wed

At Pentapolis the fair Thaisa.

At sea in childbed died she, but brought forth

A maid child call’d Marina; whom, O goddess,

Wears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus

Was nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years

He sought to murder: but her better stars

Brought her to Mytilene; ’gainst whose shore

Riding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us,

Where by her own most clear remembrance, she

Made known herself my daughter.

Hail, Diana! To carry out your just command, I confess I am the King of Tyre, who was driven away from my country and married the fair Thaisa at Pentapolis. She died in childbirth at sea, but gave birth to a daughter named Marina, who, O goddess, still wears your priestess's robes. She was raised with Cleon at Tarsus, where at fourteen he tried to murder her. But her good fortune brought her to Mytilene instead. Sailing past that shore, her luck brought the girl aboard our ship, where by her own clear memory, she revealed herself as my daughter.

Hail, Diana! I'm here to do what you commanded. I'm the King of Tyre, who was driven out of his own country and married the beautiful Thaisa at Pentapolis. She died giving birth at sea, but not before she had a daughter we named Marina. She still serves you as a priestess. She was raised by Cleon in Tarsus, and when she was fourteen he tried to kill her. But luck was on her side and she ended up in Mytilene instead. When our ship sailed past there, by incredible coincidence, she came aboard and recognized me as her father.

hi diana i'm king of tyre i married thaisa she died giving birth at sea had a daughter marina she's your priestess raised by cleon he tried to kill her but she escaped to mytilene our ship picked her up she recognized me as her dad

"I here confess myself the King of Tyre" Pericles opens his testimony with an act of self-identification — he names himself publicly before a goddess. This is the inverse of the play's opening, where identifying oneself was dangerous. Then, Antiochus used self-identification as a death trap. Here, in a sacred space, it is simply true.

Why it matters Pericles's testimony is a compressed version of the entire play from his point of view: Pentapolis, Thaisa's death at sea, Marina's birth, Tarsus, the attempt on Marina's life, Mytilene, the recognition. He is telling this story to Diana — and to the high priestess standing before her altar. He doesn't know Thaisa can hear him.

🎭 Dramatic irony Pericles is telling Thaisa's story to the assembled congregation of Diana's temple without knowing Thaisa is standing before him as high priestess. The audience knows she is there. He does not.

THAISA ≋ verse [astonished, recognizing his voice]

Voice and favour!

You are, you are—O royal Pericles!

That voice and face! You are—oh royal Pericles!

That voice! That face! Pericles!

pericles! it's you!

"Voice and favour!" Thaisa doesn't think first — she reacts. She recognizes his voice and his face simultaneously. 'Voice and favour' is the compressed moment before the mind catches up with the body. She has heard this voice in her memory for decades.

Why it matters Thaisa's recognition is instantaneous and physical — voice and face, before thought. The play gives her the simplest possible response: she says his name and faints. Everything she has been holding for years releases at once.

[_Faints._]

PERICLES [alarmed, crying for help]

What means the nun? She dies! help, gentlemen!

What does the nun mean? She's dying! Help, gentlemen!

What's happening? She's fainting! Help!

help! she's fainting!

CERIMON ≋ verse [cautious, revealing the truth]

Noble sir,

If you have told Diana’s altar true,

This is your wife.

My lord, if what you've told to the goddess Diana is true, then this is your wife.

Sir, if you've been honest with the goddess, then this is definitely your wife.

if you told the truth to diana then this is your wife

Why it matters Cerimon's line is the second great recognition of the play. He has known who Thaisa was since the moment he opened the chest in Act 3. He has watched her serve Diana for years. He has been waiting — perhaps without knowing it — for the testimony that would allow this reunion to be spoken aloud.

PERICLES ≋ verse [overwhelmed, barely able to speak]

Reverend appearer, no;

I threw her overboard with these very arms.

Holy man, no; I threw her into the sea with my own hands.

No, holy man—I threw her overboard myself with these arms.

no, i threw her overboard with my own hands

Why it matters Pericles's first response is disbelief — the same pattern as the recognition of Marina. He has buried this hope too deeply. He says 'I threw her overboard' — a brutal recollection, and one that shows how completely he internalized the responsibility for that loss.

CERIMON [reassuring, confirming location]

Upon this coast, I warrant you.

I guarantee, on this coast.

But she washed up here.

washed up here.

PERICLES [quiet, still dazed]

’Tis most certain.

That's certain.

It must be.

must be.

CERIMON ≋ verse [calm, explaining the rescue]

Look to the lady; O, she’s but o’er-joy’d.

Early in blustering morn this lady was

Thrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin,

Found there rich jewels; recover’d her, and placed her

Here in Diana’s temple.

Look to the lady—oh, she's overwhelmed by joy. Early in the stormy morning this lady was thrown upon this shore. I opened the coffin, found rich jewels inside, revived her, and placed her here in Diana's temple.

Take care of the lady—she's overcome with emotion. She washed up on this shore early one stormy morning. I opened the coffin she was in, found beautiful jewels with her, brought her back to life, and took her to Diana's temple.

help the lady she's overwhelmed she washed up this morning i found her in a coffin there were jewels with her i revived her put her in diana's temple

PERICLES [eager, hopeful]

May we see them?

May we look at them?

Would you let us have a look at them?

show us

CERIMON ≋ verse [welcoming, hospitable]

Great sir, they shall be brought you to my house,

Whither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is

Recovered.

Great sir, they'll be brought to my house, where I invite you. Look, the lady moves!

Sir, they'll be at my house. I want you there. Look—she's moving!

my house. she's moving!

THAISA ≋ verse [trembling, daring to hope]

O, let me look!

If he be none of mine, my sanctity

Will to my sense bend no licentious ear,

But curb it, spite of seeing. O, my lord,

Are you not Pericles? Like him you spake,

Like him you are: did you not name a tempest,

A birth, and death?

Let me look! If he is not mine, my sacred vow will not let my ear bend to licentious thoughts, but will restrain it despite what I see. O, my lord, are you not Pericles? You look like him, you sound like him. Didn't you tell of a tempest, a birth, and a death?

Let me see him! If he's not my husband, my vows will keep me from even thinking anything improper, no matter what. O my lord, are you not Pericles? You look like him, you sound like him. Didn't you tell me about a terrible storm, a birth, and a death?

let me see if he's not mine my vows keep me pure no matter what are you pericles you look like him sound like him did you tell me about a storm birth death

"Did you not name a tempest, a birth, and death?" Thaisa reduces the entire play's action to three words: tempest, birth, death. The storm that scattered her family; Marina's birth that coincided with her apparent death; her own apparent death. She was inside all three events. She is confirming that the story she just heard is her story.

Why it matters Thaisa's question — 'Did you not name a tempest, a birth, and death?' — is the most compressed possible expression of the play's core events. She is checking: is this the story I lived through? The question is also her proof: only someone who was there would recognize those three elements as the same event.

PERICLES [thunderstruck, recognizing her voice]

The voice of dead Thaisa!

I hear Thaisa's voice—but she's supposed to be dead!

That's Thaisa's voice—she's alive!

thaisa's alive??

THAISA ≋ verse [tearful, confirming her identity]

That Thaisa am I, supposed dead

And drown’d.

Yes, I'm Thaisa, supposed dead and drowned.

I'm Thaisa. I was supposed to be dead.

i'm thaisa. supposed dead.

Why it matters Thaisa says 'I am that Thaisa' — she is reclaiming the identity she set aside when she became Diana's priestess. The line is quiet, factual, complete. She was dead to the world. Now she names herself alive.

PERICLES [awestruck, thanking the goddess]

Immortal Dian!

Oh immortal Diana!

Oh Diana!

diana!

THAISA ≋ verse [joyful, offering proof]

Now I know you better,

When we with tears parted Pentapolis,

The king my father gave you such a ring.

Now I recognize you clearly. At our painful separation in Pentapolis, my father the king placed this same ring into your hands.

Now I recognize you clearly. When we said goodbye at Pentapolis with tears, my father the king gave you this exact ring.

now i recognize you at our goodbye in pentapolis my father gave you this ring

[_Shows a ring._]

PERICLES ≋ verse [overcome, embracing her]

This, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness

Makes my past miseries sports: you shall do well,

That on the touching of her lips I may

Melt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried

A second time within these arms.

Yes, yes—that's enough, gods! Your current mercy makes every moment of my past suffering feel worthless. Just let me touch her lips and disappear entirely. Oh, come here so I can hold you close, as if being reborn in your embrace.

That's it—thank you, gods! All your goodness right now makes my years of pain seem like nothing. Just let me kiss her and fade away completely. Oh, come close so I can hold you tight and become whole again.

yes thank gods your kindness makes my pain mean nothing let me kiss her let me disappear let me hold you close and be reborn

"Your present kindness makes my past miseries sports" Pericles says that the joy of this moment retrospectively transforms all the suffering. It 'makes my past miseries sports' — it makes everything he endured feel like play, like nothing serious. This is not denial; it is the mathematics of the play's theology: the restoration is so complete that it recontextualizes the loss.

"come, be buried a second time within these arms" Pericles's image is remarkable: he invites Thaisa to be 'buried' again — but this time in his arms rather than in the sea. He takes the word of her death and reclaims it as an image of embrace. The play's central trauma — the burial at sea — is here made into an act of love.

Why it matters The ring confirmation is the structural twin of the ring Pericles gave Thaisa. She kept it against her heart for the years of separation — she never stopped being his wife in the deepest sense. His invitation to be 'buried again' in his arms transforms the language of loss into the language of reunion.

MARINA ≋ verse [joyful, longing to embrace her]

My heart

Leaps to be gone into my mother’s bosom.

My heart wants to leap into my mother's arms.

I want to run into my mother's arms!

mama! run to her!

Why it matters Marina's line is the quietest and most devastating in the scene. She has never known her mother. Thaisa died the minute she began. And now she says: my heart leaps to go to my mother's arms. The simplicity of it is total.

[_Kneels to Thaisa._]

PERICLES ≋ verse [proud, presenting his daughter]

Look, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa;

Thy burden at the sea, and call’d Marina

For she was yielded there.

Look, who kneels here! Flesh of your flesh, Thaisa—the child you carried, born at sea, and now restored to you.

Look! Your daughter! Born at sea, lost, and now returned to you!

your daughter! born at sea. restored.

Why it matters Pericles gives Marina to Thaisa with the phrase 'flesh of thy flesh' — the biblical language of belonging. He also explains the name again (born at sea, named Marina) but this time he says it to Thaisa, who was there. She carried Marina at sea. She named her by dying there.

THAISA [overjoyed, claiming her child]

Blest, and mine own!

Blessed, and my own daughter!

Blessed! My own child!

blessed & shes mine

Why it matters Three words. Thaisa's response to seeing her daughter for the first time is three words: 'Blest, and mine own.' The compression is the play's most economical moment of joy — there are no more words needed. Everything is in those three.

HELICANUS [loyal, joyful greeting]

Hail, madam, and my queen!

Greetings, madam and my queen!

Welcome, madam, my queen!

welcome back, my queen

THAISA [confused, uncertain]

I know you not.

I don't know you.

Who are you?

who?

PERICLES ≋ verse [testing, wanting her to remember]

You have heard me say, when I did fly from Tyre,

I left behind an ancient substitute:

Can you remember what I call’d the man?

I have named him oft.

You've heard me say that when I fled Tyre, I left behind an ancient, wise counselor. That's him.

I've told you—when I fled Tyre, I left my wisest counselor behind. That's him.

fled tyre. left counselor behind. that's him.

THAISA [recalling, satisfied]

’Twas Helicanus then.

That was Helicanus then.

That's Helicanus.

helicanus.

Why it matters Even in the midst of the reunion, Thaisa asks about her father. She has been in Ephesus all these years not knowing what happened to Simonides. The play acknowledges what all reunions also contain: the absent people who won't be part of it.

PERICLES ≋ verse [delighted, eager for the full story]

Still confirmation:

Embrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he.

Now do I long to hear how you were found:

How possibly preserved; and who to thank,

Besides the gods, for this great miracle.

Perfect—that settles it! Hug him, Thaisa, he's truly your man. But now I must know everything: how were you discovered? What allowed you to live? To whom besides the gods must we give our gratitude for this impossible gift?

That's settled—it's him! Thaisa, go embrace him. But I need to know the whole story. Who found you? How did you survive? Who deserves our thanks besides the gods for making this impossible miracle happen?

embrace him it's him now i need to know who found you how did you live who do we thank

THAISA ≋ verse [grateful, crediting her rescuer]

Lord Cerimon, my lord; this man,

Through whom the gods have shown their power; that can

From first to last resolve you.

Lord Cerimon, my lord—this man, through whom the gods have shown their power, can explain it all from beginning to end.

Lord Cerimon is the one, my dear. This man is the one through whom the gods showed their power. He can tell you the whole story from start to finish.

it's lord cerimon he's the one the gods showed power through him he can tell you everything

PERICLES ≋ verse [deeply grateful, reverent]

Reverend sir,

The gods can have no mortal officer

More like a god than you. Will you deliver

How this dead queen relives?

Reverend sir, the gods cannot have a mortal servant more god-like than you. Will you explain how this dead queen has come back to life?

Reverend sir, the gods couldn't ask for a better servant than you—you're almost divine yourself. Will you tell us how this dead queen came back to life?

sir you're almost divine how did this dead queen come back to life

CERIMON ≋ verse [modest, inviting them along]

I will, my lord.

Beseech you, first go with me to my house,

Where shall be shown you all was found with her;

How she came placed here in the temple;

No needful thing omitted.

I will, my lord. I beseech you, first come with me to my house, where I will show you everything that was found with her, how she came to be placed here in the temple, leaving nothing important out.

I will, my lord. Please, come to my house first, where I can show you everything that was with her, and explain how she came to be placed in the temple. I'll leave nothing out.

i will my lord come to my house first i'll show you everything that was with her how she got to the temple

PERICLES ≋ verse [thankful, planning ahead]

Pure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! I

Will offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa,

This prince, the fair betrothed of your daughter,

Shall marry her at Pentapolis.

And now this ornament

Makes me look dismal will I clip to form;

And what this fourteen years no razor touch’d

To grace thy marriage-day, I’ll beautify.

Blessed Diana, bless you for your vision! I will make night prayers to you in thanks. Thaisa, this prince, the promised husband of your daughter, shall marry her at Pentapolis. And this appearance which makes me look grim—I will clean my face to be presentable, and the hair that no razor has touched for fourteen years I will trim to grace your daughter's marriage day.

Blessed Diana, thank you for your vision! I'll make nightly prayers to you forever. Thaisa, this prince is the man promised to your daughter—he'll marry her at Pentapolis. And I'll make myself presentable—I'll clean up this ragged look, and I'll trim this hair that hasn't been cut in fourteen years to look nice for the wedding.

blessed diana thanks for the vision i'll pray to you always this prince marries your daughter at pentapolis i'll get cleaned up cut my hair for the wedding

"This ornament makes me look dismal — I'll clip to form" The hair vow, made in Act 3 when Pericles left Marina in Tarsus, is fulfilled here. He said he would not cut his hair until Marina was married. She is betrothed. He cuts it. The play closes a loop that was opened in 3-3.

Why it matters Pericles's gratitude to Cerimon is the play's recognition that the entire Act 5 reunion was contingent on one act of charity: a physician in Ephesus who chose to attempt to revive an unknown woman in a chest washed up from the sea. Without Cerimon, none of this happens.

THAISA ≋ verse [saddened, sharing news of loss]

Lord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir,

My father’s dead.

Lord Cerimon has letters confirming my father is dead.

Cerimon has word that my father died.

father died.

PERICLES ≋ verse [reflective, at peace with the future]

Heavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen,

We’ll celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves

Will in that kingdom spend our following days:

Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign.

Lord Cerimon, we do our longing stay

To hear the rest untold. Sir, lead’s the way.

May heaven make him a star! Yet there, my queen, we'll celebrate their wedding, and we ourselves will spend our remaining days in that kingdom: our son and daughter shall rule in Tyre. Lord Cerimon, we are eager to hear the rest of your account. Sir, lead the way.

I hope the gods make Simonides a star! Anyway, we'll have Marina and the prince's wedding there, and then we'll spend the rest of our lives in that kingdom. Our son and daughter will rule Tyre. Lord Cerimon, we really want to hear the whole story. Come on, show us the way.

make simonides a star we'll celebrate marina's wedding there we'll live our lives in that kingdom our children will rule tyre tell us the rest of what happened let's go

Why it matters Cutting his hair is the final act of the play's arc of mourning. The wild hair has been the visible sign of years of grief. Cutting it is the return to the world, the end of the mourning period, the claim that joy is now appropriate. The vow made over an infant in Tarsus is kept.

[_Exeunt._]

Enter Gower.

GOWER ≋ verse [narrating, drawing the moral]

In Antiochus and his daughter you have heard

Of monstrous lust the due and just reward:

In Pericles, his queen and daughter seen,

Although assail’d with Fortune fierce and keen,

Virtue preserved from fell destruction’s blast,

Led on by heaven, and crown’d with joy at last.

In Helicanus may you well descry

A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty:

In reverend Cerimon there well appears

The worth that learned charity aye wears:

For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame

Had spread their cursed deed, the honour’d name

Of Pericles, to rage the city turn,

That him and his they in his palace burn.

The gods for murder seemed so content

To punish, although not done, but meant.

So on your patience evermore attending,

New joy wait on you! Here our play has ending.

You've heard of Antiochus and his daughter— the just and deserved reward for monstrous lust: In Pericles, his queen, and daughter you have seen, though assailed by Fortune fierce and keen, virtue preserved from destruction's blast, led by heaven, and crowned with joy at last. In Helicanus you can clearly see a figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty: In reverend Cerimon there clearly appears the worth that learned charity always shows: For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame had spread their cursed deed, the honored name of Pericles enraged the city so that they burned him and his wife in his palace. The gods seemed content to punish their murder although not done, only intended. So depend on your patience evermore, and new joy will come to you! Here our play ends.

You've heard how Antiochus and his daughter got exactly what they deserved for their horrible lust. With Pericles, his queen, and their daughter—even though they were attacked by brutal Fortune—they kept their virtue and kindness and ended up happy. Helicanus showed us what real truth, faith, and loyalty look like. Cerimon showed us the real value of learned charity and goodness. As for the wicked Cleon and his wife, when their evil deed got out and people found out what they'd done, the city got so angry at Pericles's good name that they burned both of them to death in Cleon's own palace. The gods punished them for murder, even though they didn't actually carry it out—just wanting to do it was enough. So thank you for your patience with us, and may new joy come to you! Our play is finished.

antiochus & his daughter got what they deserved for their disgusting lust pericles & his wife & daughter—even when life was brutal they stayed virtuous they got joy at last helicanus showed us truth faith & loyalty cerimon showed us the value of real charity wicked cleon & his wife—their evil deed got found out the city got so mad they burned them alive in the palace the gods punished them for trying to murder even tho they didn't actually do it thank u for ur patience may new joy come to u our play ends

"The gods for murder seem'd so content to punish, although not done, but meant" Gower makes a theological point in his epilogue: the gods punished Cleon and Dionyza for attempting to murder Marina even though the murder was not completed (she was taken by pirates before Leonine killed her). The intention is enough. The play's divine justice is exacting.

"Here our play has ending" Gower's final line closes the frame that opened with his first prologue in Act 1. He has been the play's organizing consciousness throughout — bridging time, explaining gaps, providing context. Now he releases the audience. The circle closes.

Why it matters Gower's epilogue is the play's moral accounting: each character receives their due. Antiochus and Dionyza are punished. Helicanus and Cerimon are honored. Pericles and his family are restored. The epilogue is not summary — it is completion, the final movement of the pattern the play has been tracing since Act 1.

[_Exit._]

GOWER [announcing the next play]

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF KING RICHARD THE SECOND

How King Richard the Second Rose to Power and Met His End

The Story of King Richard the Second's Rise and Fall

king richard 2: rise & fall

The Reckoning

The final scene is the completion of everything the play has been building since Act 1. Thaisa has been waiting in Ephesus for years. Pericles has been waiting, in a different sense, at sea. Marina has been the instrument that brought them both back. The reunion happens through testimony: Pericles tells his story publicly as Diana commanded, and Thaisa hears it. The miracle is not supernatural intervention — it is the act of speaking the truth aloud in the right place. All three members of this family have been on separate arcs of loss; this scene is their convergence.

If this happened today…

A woman who spent thirty years as a nun in a city where she washed up after an accident hears a man at the altar tell the story of losing his wife at sea during a storm. His voice. His story. The details are impossible. She faints. When she comes around, she's looking at her husband. And behind him stands their daughter, whom neither of them has raised.