The Second Fisherman appears briefly but memorably in Act 2, Scene 1, as one of three working men who haul nets on the shore of Pentapolis. He is Pericles’ first human contact after shipwreck—the moment the play shifts from catastrophe to the possibility of recovery. Like his companions, he is a man of limited education and direct speech, yet he possesses an instinctive generosity that transcends the gap between prince and commoner. When Pericles emerges from the sea naked and desperate, the Second Fisherman’s first response is practical mockery: “What a drunken knave was the sea to cast thee in our way!” Yet this casual jest masks a readiness to help. He quickly moves beyond jokes to the real question: “Canst thou catch any fishes, then?” It is not unkind—merely the language of a working world where value is measured by utility.
What distinguishes the Second Fisherman from mere comic relief is his willingness to see past Pericles’ rags and exhaustion to something worth respecting. When Pericles asks for the armor discovered in the net, the Second Fisherman does not haggle or refuse; instead, he negotiates a fair return and promises to guide the prince to court. His one extended speech reveals a man who understands the economics of survival: beggars profit more than laborers in his country, work is scarce, and anyone claiming poverty must prove it through action or silence. Yet he does not use this knowledge to exploit Pericles. Rather, he establishes the terms of dignity—you may not beg here, but you may ask, and I will help. In his rough speech and practical wisdom, he embodies the play’s belief that grace and charity often come not from the great but from those accustomed to scarcity and loss.
The Second Fisherman’s brief scene crystallizes one of Pericles’ central preoccupations: the restoration of identity and worth through encounters with strangers. He never learns who Pericles truly is, yet he treats him as a man capable of becoming something, capable of rising. This fisherman’s willingness to offer not pity but partnership—to share a meal, to offer information, to ask only fair payment—becomes the measure of a good man in a world where fortune is cruel and redemption comes through the kindness of those who have nothing to lose.
What a drunken knave was the sea to cast thee in our way!
What a drunk fool was the sea to throw you in our path!
Second Fisherman · Act 2, Scene 1
A fisherman jokes that the sea was drunk to throw Pericles in their path, personifying the ocean as a chaotic force. The line is comic, but it names the central mystery: whether the sea brings Pericles by accident or design. It keeps open the question of whether anyone controls their own fate.
Canst thou catch any fishes, then?
Can you catch any fish, then?
Second Fisherman · Act 2, Scene 1
A fisherman asks if the drowning prince has any useful skills, moving quickly from sympathy to practicality. The line matters because it grounds the play in survival—Pericles has nothing, knows nothing of the sea, and must learn or perish. It is the play's first test of whether virtue alone can sustain life.
