PERICLES.
[Aside.] What’s here? A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre!
’Tis the king’s subtlety to have my life.
O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord,
A stranger and distressed gentleman,
That never aim’d so high to love your daughter,
But bent all offices to honour her.
SIMONIDES.
Thou hast bewitch’d my daughter,
And thou art a villain.
PERICLES.
By the gods, I have not:
Never did thought of mine levy offence;
Nor never did my actions yet commence
A deed might gain her love or your displeasure.
SIMONIDES.
Traitor, thou liest.
PERICLES.
Traitor?
SIMONIDES.
Ay, traitor.
PERICLES.
Even in his throat—unless it be the king—
That calls me traitor, I return the lie.
SIMONIDES.
[Aside.] Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage.
PERICLES.
My actions are as noble as my thoughts,
That never relish’d of a base descent.
I came unto your court for honour’s cause,
And not to be a rebel to her state;
And he that otherwise accounts of me,
This sword shall prove he’s honour’s enemy.
SIMONIDES.
No?
Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.