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Entranc'd above five hours: see how she gins
To blow into life's flower again!

First Gent.

The heavens,

Through you, increase our wonder, and set up
Your fame for ever.

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Her eyelids, cases to those heavenly jewels
Which Pericles hath lost, begin to part
Their fringes of bright gold; the diamonds
Of a most praised water do appear,

To make the world twice rich. — O, live, and make
Us weep to hear your fate, fair creature,

Rare as you seem to be!

Thai.

O dear Diana,

[She moves.

Where am I? Where's my lord? What world is this?
Sec. Gent. Is not this strange?

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Hush, my gentle neighbours!

Lend me your hands; to the next chamber bear her.
Get linen: now this matter must be look'd to,

For her relapse is mortal. Come, come;

And Esculapius guide us!

[Exeunt, carrying out Thaisa.

SCENE III. Tharsus. A room in the Governor's house.

Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, and LYCHORIDA with MARINA in her arms.

Per. Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;

My twelve months are expir'd, and Tyrus stands

In a litigious peace. You, and your lady,

Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods

Make up the rest upon you!

Cle. Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mor

tally,

Yet glance full wanderingly on us.

Dion.

O your sweet queen!

That the strict Fates had pleas'd you had brought her hither, T' have bless'd mine eyes with her!

Per.

whom,

- here

We cannot but obey
The powers above us. Could I rage and roar
As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end
Must be as 'tis. My gentle babe Marina,
For she was born at sea, I've nam'd so,
I charge your charity withal, leaving her
The infant of your care; beseeching you
To give her princely training, that she may be
Manner'd as she is born.

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Cle.
Fear not, my lord, but think
Your grace, that fed my country with your corn,
For which the people's prayers still fall upon you,
Must in your child be thought on. If neglection
Should therein make me vile, the common body,
By you reliev'd, would force me to my duty:
But if to that my nature need a spur,

The gods revenge it upon me and mine,
To the end of generation!

Per.

I believe you;
Your honour and your goodness teach me to't,
Without your vows. Till she be married, madam,
By bright Diana, whom we honour, all

Unscissar'd shall this hair of mine remain,
Though I show ill in't. So I take my leave.
Good madam, make me blessèd in your care
In bringing up my child.

Dion.

I've one myself, Who shall not be more dear to my respect

Than yours, my lord.

Per.

Madam, my thanks and prayers.

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

The gentlest winds of heaven.

Per.

I will embrace

Your offer. Come, dearest 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. Ephesus. A room in CERIMON's house.

Enter CERIMON and THAISA.

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

That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember,
Even on my eaning time; but whether there
Deliver'd, by the holy gods,

I cannot rightly say. But since King Pericles,
My wedded lord, I ne'er shall see again,

A vestal livery will I take me to,

And never more have joy.

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

Where you may abide till your date expire.
Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine
Shall there attend you.

Thai. My recompense is thanks, that's all;
Yet my good will is great, though the gift small.

ACT IV.

Enter GoWER.

Gow. Imagine Pericles arriv'd at Tyre,
Welcom'd and settled to his own desire.
His woful queen we leave at Ephesus,
Unto Diana there a votaress.

Now to Marina bend your mind,
Whom our fast-growing scene must find
At Tharsus, and by Cleon train'd
In music, letters; who hath gain'd

[Exeunt.

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-rite; this maid
Hight Philoten: and it is said
For certain in our story, she

Would ever with Marina be:

Be't when she weav'd the sleided silk
With fingers long, small, white as milk;
Or when she would with sharp neeld wound
The cambric, which she made more sound
By hurting it; or when to the lute

She sung, 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; still

This Philoten contends in skill
With absolute Marina: so

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 so darks
In Philoten all graceful marks,
That Cleon's wife, with envy rare,
A present murderer does prepare
For good Marina, that her daughter
Might stand peerless by this slaughter.
The sooner her vile thoughts to stead,
Lychorida, our nurse, is dead:
And cursed Dionyza hath

The pregnant instrument of wrath

Prest for this blow. Th' unborn event

I do commend to your content:

Only I carry winged time

Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;

Which never could I so convey,

Unless your thoughts went on my way.

Dionyza does appear,

With Leonine, a murderer.

{Exit.

SCENE I. Tharsus. An open place near the sea-shore.

Enter DIONYza and Leonine.

Dion. Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do't: 'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.

Thou canst not do a thing in the world so soon,
To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience,
Which is but cold, inflaming love in thy bosom,
Inflame too nicely; nor let pity, which

Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be
A soldier to thy purpose.

Leon. I'll do't; but yet she is a goodly creature.
Dion. The fitter, then, the gods should have her.
She comes weeping for her only mistress' death.
Thou art resolv'd?

Leon. I am resolv'd.

Enter MARINA, with a basket of flowers.

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

Shall, as a carpet, hang upon thy grave,

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While summer-days do last. Ay me! poor maid,
Born in a tempest, 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
Consume your blood with sorrowing: you have

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