Page 168 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

Were more than you expect, or more than’s fit, [5]
Since every worth in show commends itself.
Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast.
You are princes and my guests.

THAISA
(to Pericles)

But you, my knight and guest;
To whom this wreath of victory I give, [10]
And crown you king of this day’s happiness.

PERICLES
’Tis more by fortune, lady, than my merit.

SIMONIDES

Call it by what you will, the day is yours,
And here, I hope, is none that envies it.
In framing an artist, art hath thus decreed, [15]
To make some good, but others to exceed,
And you are her laboured scholar. Come, queen o’th’ feast −

For, daughter, so you are − here take your place.
Marshal, the rest as they deserve their grace.

KNIGHTS
We are honoured much by good Simonides. [20]

SIMONIDES
Your presence glads our days; honour we love,

For who hates honour hates the gods above.

MARSHAL

Sir, yonder is your place.

PERICLES
Some other is more fit.

FIRST KNIGHT