Diana's temple is not distant far,

Where you may 'bide until 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.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV.

Enter GoWER.

Gower.

MAGINE 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,

Whom our fast-growing scene must find
At Tharsus, 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
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.
Aud in this kink 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 weaved 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

The dove of Paphos might with 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. The unborn event

I do commend to your content:

Only I carried winged time

Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;
Which never could I so convey,

Unless your thoughts went on my way.

Dionyza doth 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 it.

'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 con

science,

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
A soldier to thy purpose.

Leon. I'll do't; but yet she is a goodly creature. Dion. The fitter then the gods above should have her.

Here she comes weeping for her old nurse's death.

Thou art resolved?

Leon.

I am resolved.

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,

While summer days do last. Ah 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
A nurse of me. Lord! how your favour's changed

With this unprofitable woe!

Come, give me your flowers, ere the sea mar, them. Walk with Leonine; the air's quick there,

And it pierces and sharpens the stomach. Come, Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her.

Mar. No, I pray you;

I'll not bereave you of your servant.

Dion. 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,

He will repent the breadth of his great voyage;
Blame both my lord and me, that we have ta'en
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.

I can go home alone.

Mar.

Care not for me;

Well, I will go;

But yet I have no desire to it.

Dion. Come, come, I know 'tis good for you.Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least;

Remember what I have said.

Leon.

I warrant you, madam.

Dion. I'll leave you, my sweet lady, for a

while;

Pray walk softly, do not heat your blood:

What! I must have a care of you.

Mar.

My thanks, sweet madam. [Exit DIONYZA.

Is this wind westerly that blows?

Leon.

Leon.

South-west.

Mar. When I was born the wind was north. Wast't so ? Mar. My father, as nurse said, did never fear, But cried, Good seamen ! to the sailors, galling His kingly hands with hauling of the ropes; And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea That almost burst the deck.

Leon.

Mar. When I was born.

When was this?

Never was waves nor wind more violent;
And from the ladder-tackle washes off
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.

Leon. Come, say your prayers.

Mar.

What mean you?

Leon. 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.

Mar. Why will you kill me?
Leon. To satisfy my lady.

Mar. 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, 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,
Wherein my death might yield her any profit,
Or my life imply her any danger?

Leon. My commission

Is not to reason of the deed, but do it.