Weeping she comes for her old nurse's death. Thou art resolv'd?

Leon.

I am resolv'd.

Enter MARINA, with a basket of flowers.
Mar. No, 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 chaplet, 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 chang'd
With this unprofitable woe! Come, come;
Give me your wreath of flowers, ere the sea mar it.
Walk forth with Leonine: the air is quick there,
Piercing, and sharpens well 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.

Well, I will go;

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. Care not for me; I can go home alone.

Mar.

But yet I have no desire to it.

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

Leon.

I warrant yo 1,

yol.

Dion. I'll leave you, my sweet lady, for a while; Pray you walk softly, do not heat your blood: What! I must have a care of you.

Mar.

Thanks, sweet madam. — [Erit DIONYZA

madam.

Is this wind westerly that blows?
Leon.
South-west.
Mar. When I was born, the wind was north.
Leon.
Was't so!
Mar. My father, as nurse said, did never fear,
But cry'd, good seamen! to the sailors, galling
His kingly hands with hauling of the ropes;
And, clasping to the mast, endur'd a sea

That almost burst the deck, and from the laddertackle

Wash'd off a canvas-climber: Ha! says one,
Wilt out? and, with a dropping industry,
They skip from stem to stern: the boatswain whistles,
The master calls, and trebles their confusion.
Leon. And when was this?

Mar.
It was when I was born:
Never was waves nor wind more violent.
Leon. Come, say your prayers speedily.
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.

Why will you kill me?

Mar. 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 profit, or My life imply her danger?

Leon.

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

Mar. You will not do't for all the world, I hope. 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, And save poor me, the weaker.

Leon.

I am sworn,

And will despatch.

Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.
She did distain my child, and stood between
Her and her fortunes: None would look on her,
But cast their gazes on Marina's face;
Whilst ours was blurted at, and held a malkin,
Not worth the time of day. It pierced me thorough;
And though you call my course unnatural,
You not your child well loving, yet I find,
It greets me, as an enterprize of kindness,
Perform'd to your sole daughter.

Cle.

Heavens forgive it!

Dion. And as for Pericles, What should he say? We wept after her hearse, And even yet we mourn: her monument Is almost finish'd, and her epitaphs

Dron. Be it so then: Yet none does know, but you, how she came dead,

In glittering golden characters express A general praise to her, and care in us At whose expence 'tis done.

Cle. Thou art like the harpy, Which, to betray, doth wear an angel's face, Seize with an eagle's talons.

Dion. You are like one, that superstitiously Doth swear to the gods, that winter kills the flies; But yet I know you'll do as I advise. [Exeunt. Enter GowER, before the monument of MARINA,

Tharsus.

He puts on sackcloth, and to sea. He bears
A tempest, which his mortal vessel tears,
And yet he rides it out. Now please you wit
The epitaph is for Marina writ
By wicked Dionyza.

[Reads the inscription on MARINA's monument.
The fairest, sweet'st, and best, lies here,
Who wither'd in her spring of year.

She was of Tyrus, the king's daughter,
On whom foul death hath made this slaughter;
Marina was she call'd; and at her birth,
Thetis, being proud, swallow'd some part o'the
earth,

Therefore the earth, fearing to be o'erflow'd,
Hath Thetis' birth-child on the heavens bestow'd :
Wherefore she does, (and swears she'll never stint,)
Make raging battery upon shores of flint.
No visor does become black villainy,
So well as soft and tender flattery.
Let Pericles believe his daughter's dead,
And bear his courses to be ordered
By lady fortune; while our scenes display
His daughter's woe and heavy well-a-day,
In her unholy service. Patience then,
And think you now are all in Mitylen. [Erit.
A Street before the

SCENE V. - Mitylene.
Brothel.
Enter, from the Brothel, Two Gentlemen.

1 Gent. Did you ever hear the like?

2 Gent. No, nor never shall do in such a place as this, she being once gone.

1 Gent. But to have divinity preached there! did you ever dream of such a thing?

2 Gent. No, no. Come, I am for no more bawdy-houses: Shall we go hear the vestals sing?

1 Gent. I'll do any thing now that is virtuous; but I am out of the road of rutting, for ever.

[Exeunt. The same. A Room in the Brothel.

SCENE VI.
Enter Pander, Bawd, and BOULT.
Pand. Well, I had rather than twice the worth
of her, she had ne'er come here.

Bawd. Fye, fye upon her; she is able to freeze the god Priapus, and undo a whole generation. We must either get her ravished, or be rid of her. When she should do for clients her fitment, and do me the kindness of our profession, she has me her quirks, her reasons, her master-reasons, her prayers, her knees; that she would make a puritan of the devil, if he should cheapen a kiss of her.

Boult. 'Faith, I must ravish her, or she'll disfurnish us of all our cavaliers, and make all our swearers priests.

Pand. Now, the pox upon her green-sickness for

me!

Bawd. 'Faith, there's no way to be rid on't, but by the way to the pox. Here comes the lord Lysimachus, disguised.

Boult. We should have both lord and lown, if the peevish baggage would but give way to customers. Enter LYSIMACHUS.

Lys. You may so; 'tis the better for you that your resorters stand upon sound legs. How now, wholesome iniquity? Have you that a man may deal withal, and defy the surgeon?

Bawd. We have here one, sir, if she would but there never came her like in Mitylene.

Lys. If she'd do the deed of darkness, thou would'st say.

Bawd. Your honour knows what 'tis to say, well enough.

Lys. Well; call forth, call forth.

Boult. For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you shall see a rose; and she were a rose indeed, if if she had but

Lys. How now? How a dozen of virginities? Bawd. Now, the gods to-bless your honour! Boult. I am glad to see your honour in good

health.

thee:

Persever still in that clear way thou goest,
And the gods strengthen thee!

Mar. The gods preserve you!
Lys.
For me, be you thoughten
That I came with no ill intent: for to me
The very doors and windows savour vilely.
Farewell. Thou art a piece of virtue, and
I doubt not but thy training hath been noble.
Hold; here's more gold for thee.
A curse upon him, die he like a thief,
That robs thee of thy goodness! If thou hear'st
from me,
It shall be for thy good.

[AS LYSIMACHUS is putting up his purse,

BOULT enters. Boult. I beseech your honour, one piece for me. Lys. Avaunt, thou damned door-keeper! Your house,

But for this virgin that doth prop it up,
Would sink, and overwhelm you all.

Away! [Exit LYSIMACHUS. Boult. How's this? We must take another course with you. If your peevish chastity, which is not worth a breakfast in the cheapest country under the cope, shall undo a whole household, let me be gelded like a spaniel. Come your ways.

Mar. Whither would you have me?

Boult. I must have your maidenhead taken off, or the common hangman shall execute it. Come your way. We'll have no more gentlemen driven away. Come your ways, I say. Re-enter Bawd.

Bawd. How now! What's the matter? Boult. Worse and worse, mistress; She has here spoken holy words to the lord Lysimachus.

Bawd. O abominable!

Boult. She makes our profession as it were to stink afore the face of the gods.

Bawd. Marry, hang her up for ever!

Boult. The nobleman would have dealt with her like a nobleman, and she sent him away as cold as a snowball; saying his prayers too.

Bawd. Boult, take her away; use her at thy pleasure crack the glass of her virginity, and make the rest malleable.

Boult. An if she were a thornier piece of ground than she is, she shall be ploughed.

Mar. Hark, hark, you gods!

Bawd. She conjures : away with her. Would she had never come within my doors! Marry hang you! She's born to undo us. Will you not go the way women-kind? Marry come up, my dish of chastity with rosemary and bays! [Erit Bawd. Boult. Come, mistress; come your way with me. Mar. Whither would you have me?

Boult. To take from you the jewel you hold so dear.

Boult. What would you have me? go to the wars, would you? where a man may serve seven years for the loss of a leg, and have not money enough in the end to buy him a wooden one?

Mar. Do any thing but this thou doest. Empty Old receptacles, common sewers, of filth; Serve by indenture to the common hangman; Any of these ways are better yet than this: For that which thou professest, a baboon, Could he but speak, would own a name too dear. O that the gods would safely from this place Deliver me! Here, here is gold for thee. If that thy master would gain aught by me, Proclaim that I can sing, weave, sew, and dance, With other virtues, which I'll keep from boast ; And I will undertake all these to teach. I doubt not but this populous city will Yield many scholars.

Boult. But can you teach all this you speak of? Mar. Prove that I cannot, take me home again, And prostitute me to the basest groom That doth frequent your house.

Boult. Well, I will see what I can do for thee: if I can place thee, I will.

Mar. But, amongst honest women?

Boult. 'Faith, my acquaintance lies little amongst them. But since my master and mistress have bought you, there's no going but by their consent; therefore I will make them acquainted with your purpose, and I doubt not but I shall find them tractable enough. Come, I'll do for thee what I can; come your ways. [Exeunt.