Tarsus. A room in Cleon’s house.
(Pericles; Cleon; Dionyza; Lychorida)English
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. PER. CLE. DION. LYC.
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.
Exeunt. PER. CLE. DION. LYC.