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 obey your command, I confess myself King of Tyre, vowing to serve you forever in your temple.
Hail Diana! I keep my vow. I'm Pericles, King of Tyre, and I dedicate myself to you.
hail diana. keep vow. king of tyre. devoted forever.
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!
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!
Noble sir,
If you have told Diana’s altar true,
This is your wife.
Noble sir, if you've told Diana's altar the truth, this is your wife.
Sir, if that's true, this is your wife.
your wife.
Reverend appearer, no;
I threw her overboard with these very arms.
No, I threw her overboard with these very arms.
No! I threw her in the sea with my own hands!
i threw her overboard.
Diana did not tell Pericles that Thaisa was alive. She told him to go to Ephesus and tell the story of how he lost his wife. The reunion happens because Pericles speaks the truth aloud in the right place. This is the play's theology made structural: the act of bearing witness to one's own history is what makes restoration possible. Thaisa could have remained unknown in Ephesus indefinitely — she had accepted her situation and made her peace with it. What breaks the stasis is not intervention from above but truth-telling from below. Pericles speaking 'I threw her overboard with these very arms' is what brings her back. The play makes an argument about the redemptive power of honest speech.
Upon this coast, I warrant you.
I guarantee, on this coast.
But she washed up here.
washed up here.
’Tis most certain.
That's certain.
It must be.
must be.
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.
Take care of the lady—she's overwhelmed with joy. Early this morning, she was washed up on shore. She's been silent until now. But this stranger's voice has moved her.
The lady's overcome. This morning she washed up on shore, barely alive. She hasn't spoken until now, but his voice woke her.
she's overwhelmed. washed up this morning. silent till now. his voice woke her.
May we see them?
May we see them?
Can we see them?
see them?
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!
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's not mine, my vows to Diana will mean nothing—I'll abandon them all.
Let me see! If that's not Pericles, I'm breaking my vows to Diana!
let me see! if not him, vow broken.
The voice of dead Thaisa!
The voice of dead Thaisa!
That's Thaisa's voice!
thaisa!
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.
Immortal Dian!
Oh immortal Diana!
Oh Diana!
diana!
Now I know you better,
When we with tears parted Pentapolis,
The king my father gave you such a ring.
Now I recognize you. When we parted in Pentapolis with tears, my father was king. He's dead now, so I came here as a nun to Diana's temple, vowing never to marry until the gods showed me my husband again.
I remember now. When we left Pentapolis, my father was king. He died, so I came here to Diana's temple and vowed never to marry unless the gods brought you back. And they did.
remember you. father died. vowed never marry. unless you returned. gods brought you back.
Thaisa has been serving Diana in Ephesus since Act 3. Gower's time-bridging means we don't experience those years — but the play asks us to hold them. She made her decision with the information she had: Pericles thought she was dead; she thought she would never find him. The decision to become a vestal was not despair but rational management of an impossible situation. What the ending reveals is that the very location she chose — Diana's temple in Ephesus — was exactly where the reunion had to happen. Her act of resignation was simultaneously an act of positioning. She could not have known this. The play proposes that human decisions made in ignorance can align, through some pattern we cannot see while inside it, into something that looks like providence.
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.
This is enough, oh gods! Your kindness now makes all my past suffering seem like sport.
Stop, gods—this is too much happiness! After all that suffering, this is like a miracle.
too much happiness. after all suffering. this is miracle.
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!
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.
Blest, and mine own!
Blessed—and mine own!
My daughter! Blessed!
my daughter! blessed!
Hail, madam, and my queen!
Hail, madam, my queen!
Hail, your majesty!
hail, majesty!
I know you not.
I don't know you.
Who are you?
who?
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.
’Twas Helicanus then.
That was Helicanus then.
That's Helicanus.
helicanus.
The play gives Marina almost nothing to say in the reunion with Thaisa. 'My heart leaps to be gone into my mother's bosom' — and then she kneels, and Thaisa says 'Blest, and mine own.' The exchange is almost silent. But the silence is the right choice. Marina has spent her entire life as the daughter of a woman who died giving birth to her; her name has always carried the weight of that loss. Now she is in the same room as the woman who gave birth to her on a ship in a storm, and she doesn't have a speech. She has a leap of the heart. The play trusts the physical gesture — kneeling — to carry what words cannot.
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.
Yes, confirmed. Thaisa, embrace him—this is he. I want to hear what's happened in Tyre.
Yes, that's him. Hug him, Thaisa. Tell me what happened in Tyre.
embrace him. what happened in tyre?
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 showed their power, will you take him with honor as he deserves?
Lord Cerimon! This man brought us back together. Will you honor him?
honor him. he brought us together.
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 couldn't have a better servant than you. Will you come with me?
Sir, you've done a god's work. Come with me.
god's work. come with me.
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. Come to my house—there you'll see the treasures I've kept and the pearls of great price. Everything's for you.
I will. Come to my house. I've got everything—treasures, fine things. All yours.
come. teasures. all yours.
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.
Pure Diana, bless you for this vision! I'll make offerings to you. Thaisa, we'll celebrate our wedding here, then go to Tyre and present our daughter to the people.
Diana, thank you! I'll make offerings forever. Thaisa, we'll marry again here, then go to Tyre and show our daughter to everyone.
diana, thank you. marry again. show daughter to tyre.
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.
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 the gods make him a star in heaven. But Thaisa, we'll celebrate your marriage here, then go to Pentapolis for your father's funeral rites, and finally to Tyre to show our daughter the kingdom.
May he become a star in heaven. We'll celebrate here, go to Pentapolis for his funeral, then Tyre to show Marina the kingdom.
may he be star. celebrate here. pentapolis funeral. tyre kingdom.
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.
Antiochus and his daughter ended in monstrous sin and just punishment. The gods rewarded Pericles' patience and virtue. He recovered his wife and found his daughter, proving that the gods love goodness. Thus ends our tale of a man who suffered much but gained everything through faithful endurance. Go home knowing that virtue is rewarded and sin punished. The gods watch all.
Antiochus and his daughter got what they deserved—punishment for their evil. Pericles suffered but stayed good, and the gods rewarded him with his wife and daughter back. The lesson: virtue wins, sin loses. The gods see everything. That's the end of the story.
antiochus punished. pericles rewarded. virtue wins. sin loses. gods see all. the end.
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.