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Pericles Scenes

Scene 3

Tarsus. A room in Cleon’s house.

(Pericles; Cleon; Dionyza; Lychorida)

Pericles bids farewell to Cleon and his wife Dionyza, explaining that he must return to Tyre. He leaves his daughter, who (as she was born at sea) he has named Marina, in their care. Dionyza promises to bring her up with as much love as she will her own daughter. (48 lines)

Enter Pericles at Tharsus with Cleon and Dionyza and Lychorida with Marina in her arms.


Most honor’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!


Your shakes of fortune, though they haunt you mortally,

Yet glance full wond’ringly on us.


O your sweet queen!

That the strict fates had pleas’d you had brought her hither

To have blest mine eyes with her!


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, whom,

For she was born at sea, I have nam’d so, here

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.


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!


I believe you,

Your honor and your goodness teach me to’t

Without your vows. Till she be married, madam,

By bright Diana, whom we honor, all

Unscissor’d shall this hair of mine remain,

Though I show ill in’t. So I take my leave.

Good madam, make me blessed in your care

In bringing up my child.


I have one myself,

Who shall not be more dear to my respect

Than yours, my lord.


Madam, my thanks and prayers.


We’ll bring your Grace e’en to the edge a’ th’ shore,

Then give you up to the mask’d Neptune and

The gentlest winds of heaven.


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.



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