Tarsus. An open place near the seashore.
(Dionyza; Leonine; Marina; First Pirate; Second Pirate; Third Pirate)
Dionyza stiffens the murder Leonine’s spine, reminding him that he has sworn to kill Marina for her. He agrees, but still expresses some small regret. Coming across Marina wandering alone, Dionyza insists that she not walk alone, in case Pericles returns and accuses them of neglecting his daughter’s safety, and tells her to take Leonine with her. Leonine and Marina talk a little, but finally he tells her to prepare for death. She is shocked to learn that Dionyza wants her dead, and cannot understand why; she begs for pity, but Leonine replies that he has sworn. Just as he is about to kill her, a group of pirates run in and abduct her. Leonine, who runs away at the sight of them, decides to report she’s dead. He waits a bit, though, just in case they only rape her, in which case he’ll have to kill her. (110 lines)
Enter Dionyza with Leonine.
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 in flaming, thy lone bosom
Inflame too nicely, nor let pity, which
Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be
A soldier to thy purpose.
I will do’t, but yet she is a goodly creature.
The fitter then the gods should have her.
Here she comes weeping for her only mistress’ death.
Thou art resolv’d?
I am resolv’d.
Enter Marina with a basket of flowers.
No; I will rob Tellus of her weed
To strow thy green with flowers. The yellows, blues,
The purple violets, and marigolds,
Shall as a carpet hang upon thy grave
While summer days doth last. Ay me! Poor maid,
Born in a tempest when my mother died,
This world to me is a lasting storm,
Whirring me from my friends.
How now, Marina, why do you keep alone?
How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not
Consume your blood with sorrowing; have you
A nurse of me. Lord, how your favor’s chang’d
With this unprofitable woe! Come
Give me your flowers, ere the sea mar it.
Walk with Leonine, the air is quick there,
And it pierces and sharpens the stomach. Come,
Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her.
No, I pray you,
I’ll not bereave you of your servant.
I love the King your father, and yourself,
With more than foreign heart. We every day
Expect him here: when he shall come and find
Our paragon to all reports thus blasted,
He will repent the breadth of his great voyage,
Blame both my lord and me, that we have taken
No care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,
Walk, and be cheerful once again, reserve
That excellent complexion, which did steal
The eyes of young and old. Care not for me,
I can go home alone.
Well, I will go,
But yet I have no desire to it.
Come, come, I know ’tis good for you.
Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least.
Remember what I have said.
I warrant you, madam.
I’ll leave you, my sweet lady, for a while.
Pray walk softly, do not heat your blood.
What, I must have care of you.
My thanks, sweet madam.
Is this wind westerly that blows?
When I was born, the wind was north.
My father, as nurse says, did never fear,
But cried “Good seamen!” to the sailors, galling
His kingly hands haling ropes,
And clasping to the mast, endur’d a sea
That almost burst the deck.
When was this?
When I was born.
Never was waves nor wind more violent,
And from the ladder-tackle washes off
A canvas-climber. “Ha!” says one, “wolt out?”
And with a dropping industry they skip
From stem to stern. The boatswain whistles, and
The master calls, and trebles their confusion.
Come say your prayers.
What mean you?
If you require a little space for prayer,
I grant it. Pray, but be not tedious, for
The gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn
To do my work with haste.
Why will you kill me?
To satisfy my lady.
Why would she have me kill’d now?
As I can remember, by my troth,
I never did her hurt in all my life.
I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn
To any living creature. Believe me law,
I never kill’d a mouse, nor hurt a fly;
I trod upon a worm against my will,
But I wept for’t. How have I offended,
Wherein my death might yield her any profit,
Or my life imply her any danger?
Is not to reason of the deed, but do’t.
You will not do’t for all the world, I hope.
You are well-favored, and your looks foreshow
You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately
When you caught hurt in parting two that fought;
Good sooth, it show’d well in you. Do so now.
Your lady seeks my life, come you between,
And save poor me, the weaker.
I am sworn,
And will dispatch.
Leonine runs away.
A prize, a prize!
Half-part, mates, half-part. Come, let’s have her aboard suddenly.
Exit Marina dragged out by the Pirates.
These roguing thieves serve the great pirate Valdes,
And they have seiz’d Marina. Let her go!
There’s no hope she will return. I’ll swear she’s dead,
And thrown into the sea. But I’ll see further:
Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her,
Not carry her aboard. If she remain,
Whom they have ravish’d must by me be slain.