| ACT IV | Enter GOWER | |
| GOWER | Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre, | |
| | Welcomed and settled to his own desire. | |
| | His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus, | |
| | Unto Diana there a votaress. | |
| | Now to Marina bend your mind, | 5 |
| | Whom our fast-growing scene must find | |
| | At Tarsus, and by Cleon train'd | |
| | In music, letters; who hath gain'd | |
| | Of education all the grace, | |
| | Which makes her both the heart and place | 10 |
| | 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 | 15 |
| | 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: | 20 |
| | Be't when she weaved the sleided silk | |
| | With fingers long, small, white as milk; | |
| | Or when she would with sharp needle wound | |
| | The cambric, which she made more sound | |
| | By hurting it; or when to the lute | 25 |
| | 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 | 30 |
| | 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 | 35 |
| | 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. | 40 |
| | 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. The unborn event | 45 |
| | 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. | 50 |
| | Dionyza does appear, | |
| | With Leonine, a murderer. | |
| | Exit | |
| ACT IV SCENE I | Tarsus. An open place near the sea-shore. | |
| | Enter DIONYZA and LEONINE | |
| DIONYZA | Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do't: | |
| | 'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known. | 55 |
| | 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 i' thy bosom, | |
| | Inflame too nicely; nor let pity, which | |
| | Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be | 60 |
| | A soldier to thy purpose. | |
| LEONINE | I will do't; but yet she is a goodly creature. | |
| DIONYZA | The fitter, then, the gods should have her. Here | |
| | she comes weeping for her only mistress' death. | |
| | Thou art resolved? | 65 |
| LEONINE | I am resolved. | |
| | Enter MARINA, with a basket of flowers | |
| MARINA | 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, | 70 |
| | 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. | |
| DIONYZA | How now, Marina! why do you keep alone? | 75 |
| | How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not | |
| | Consume your blood with sorrowing: you have | |
| | A nurse of me. Lord, how your favour's changed | |
| | With this unprofitable woe! | |
| | Come, give me your flowers, ere the sea mar it. | 80 |
| | 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. | |
| MARINA | No, I pray you; | |
| | I'll not bereave you of your servant. | 85 |
| DIONYZA | Come, come; | |
| | 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, | 90 |
| | 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 | 95 |
| | The eyes of young and old. Care not for me | |
| | I can go home alone. | |
| MARINA | Well, I will go; | |
| | But yet I have no desire to it. | |
| DIONYZA | Come, come, I know 'tis good for you. | 100 |
| | Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least: | |
| | Remember what I have said. | |
| LEONINE | I warrant you, madam. | |
| DIONYZA | I'll leave you, my sweet lady, for a while: | |
| | Pray, walk softly, do not heat your blood: | 105 |
| | What! I must have a care of you. | |
| MARINA | My thanks, sweet madam. | |
| | Exit DIONYZA | |
| | Is this wind westerly that blows? | |
| LEONINE | South-west. | |
| MARINA | When I was born, the wind was north. | 110 |
| LEONINE | Was't so? | |
| MARINA | My father, as nurse said, did never fear, | |
| | But cried 'Good seaman!' to the sailors, galling | |
| | His kingly hands, haling ropes; | |
| | And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea | 115 |
| | That almost burst the deck. | |
| LEONINE | When was this? | |
| MARINA | When I was born: | |
| | Never was waves nor wind more violent; | |
| | And from the ladder-tackle washes off | 120 |
| | A canvas-climber. 'Ha!' says one, 'wilt out?' | |
| | And with a dropping industry they skip | |
| | From stem to stern: the boatswain whistles, and | |
| | The master calls, and trebles their confusion. | |
| LEONINE | Come, say your prayers. | 125 |
| MARINA | What mean you? | |
| LEONINE | 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. | 130 |
| MARINA | Why will you kill me? | |
| LEONINE | To satisfy my lady. | |
| MARINA | Why would she have me kill'd? | |
| | Now, as I can remember, by my troth, | |
| | I never did her hurt in all my life: | 135 |
| | I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn | |
| | To any living creature: believe me, la, | |
| | I never kill'd a mouse, nor hurt a fly: | |
| | I trod upon a worm against my will, | |
| | But I wept for it. How have I offended, | 140 |
| | Wherein my death might yield her any profit, | |
| | Or my life imply her any danger? | |
| LEONINE | My commission | |
| | Is not to reason of the deed, but do it. | |
| MARINA | You will not do't for all the world, I hope. | 145 |
| | You are well favour'd, 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, | 150 |
| | And save poor me, the weaker. | |
| LEONINE | I am sworn, | |
| | And will dispatch. | |
| | He seizes her | |
| | Enter Pirates | |
| First Pirate | Hold, villain! | |
| | LEONINE runs away | |
| Second Pirate | A prize! a prize! | 155 |
| Third Pirate | Half-part, mates, half-part. | |
| | Come, let's have her aboard suddenly. | |
| | Exeunt Pirates with MARINA | |
| | Re-enter LEONINE | |
| LEONINE | These roguing thieves serve the great pirate Valdes; | |
| | And they have seized Marina. Let her go: | |
| | There's no hope she will return. I'll swear | 160 |
| | 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. | 165 |
| | Exit | |