Imatges de pàgina
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Good madam, make me blessed in your care

In bringing up my child.

Dion.

I have one myself,

Who shall not be more dear to my refpect,

Than yours, my lord.

Per.

Madam, my thanks and prayers.

Cle. We'll bring your grace even to the edge o`the shore; Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune, and

The gentleft winds of heaven.

Per.

I will embrace

Your offer. Come, dear'ft madam.-O, no tears,

Lychorida, no tears :

Look to your little mistress, on whose grace
You may depend hereafter.-Come, my lord.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Ephefus. A Room in Cerimon's Houfe.

Enter CERIMON and THAISA.

Cer, Madam, this letter, and fome certain jewels,
Lay with you in your coffer: which are now
At your command. Know you the character?
Tha. It is my lord's.

That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember,
Even on my yearning time; but whether there
Delivered or no, by the holy gods,

I cannot rightly fay: But fince king Pericles,
My wedded lord, I ne'er fhall fee again,

A veftal livery will I take me to,

And never more have joy.

Cer. Madam, if this you purpose as you speak, Diana's temple is not distant far,

8

Where

Where you may 'bide until your date expire.
Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine

Shall there attend you.

Tha. My recompence is thanks, that's all;

Yet my good will is great, though the gift small. [Exeunt.

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ACT IV.

Enter GOWER.

Gow. Imagine Pericles at Tyre,
Welcom'd, to his own defire.
His woful queen leave at Ephess,
To Dian there a votarefs.

Now to Marina bend your mind,
Whom our faft-growing scene must find
At Tharfus, and by Cleon train'd
In musick, letters; who hath gain'd
Of education all the grace,

Which makes her both the heart and place
Of general wonder. But alack!
That monster envy, oft the wrack
Of earned praise, Marina's life
Seeks to take off by treason's knife.
And in this kind hath our Cleon
One daughter, and a wench full grown,
Even ripe for marriage fight; this maid
Hight Philoten: and it is faid

For certain in our story, she
Would ever with Marina be:

Be't when the weav'd the fleided filk
With fingers, long, small, white as milk;
Or when she would with fharp neeld wound
The cambrick, which fhe made more found
By hurting it; or when to the lute

She fung, and made the night-bird mute,

That still records with moan; or when
She would with rich and constant pen
Vail to her mistress Dian; ftill

This Philoten contends in skill

With abfolute Marina: fo

With the dove of Paphos might the crow
Vie feathers white. Marina gets
All praises, which are paid as debts,
And not as given. This fo darks
In Philoten all graceful marks,
That Cleon's wife, with envy rare,
A prefent murderer does prepare
For good Marina, that her daughter
Might ftand peerless by this flaughter.
The fooner her vile thoughts to stead,
Lychorida, our nurse, is dead;
And curfed Dionyza hath
The pregnant inftrument of wrath
Preft for this blow. The unborn event

I do commend to your content:

Only I carry winged time

Poft on the lame feet of my rhyme ;
Which never could I fo convey,

Unless your thoughts went on my way.

Dionyza does appear,

With Leonine, a murderer.

[Exit.

SCENE

E 2

SCENE I.

Tharfus. An open place near the fea-sbore.

Enter DIONYZA and LEONINE.

Dion. Thy oath remember; thou haft fworn to do it:
'Tis but a blow, which never fhall be known.
Thou canst not do a thing i'the world fo foon,
To yield thee fo much profit. Let not conscience,
Which is but cold, inflame love in thy bofom,
Inflame too nicely; nor let pity, which

Even women have caft off, melt thee, but be
A foldier to thy purpose.

Leon. I'll do't; but yet she is a goodly creature.

Dion. The fitter then the gods should have her. Here Weeping fhe comes for her old nurfe's death.

Thou art refolv'd?

Leon.

I am refolv'd.

Enter MARINA, with a basket of flowers.

Mar. No, no, I will rob Tellus of her weed,
To ftrew thy green with flowers: the yellows, blues,
The purple violets, and marigolds,

Shali, as a chaplet, hang upon thy grave,

While fummer days do laft. Ah me! poor maid,

Born in a tempeft, when my

mother died,

This world to me is like a lasting storm,

Whirring me from my friends.

Dion. How now, Marina! why do you keep alone? How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not Confume your blood with forrowing: you have

A nurse

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