Document:  All > Shakespeare > Comedies > Pericles, Prince of Tyre > Act III, scene III



	[Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, and LYCHORIDA with
	MARINA in her arms]

PERICLES:  Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;
	My twelve months are expired, 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!

CLEON: Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,
	Yet glance full wanderingly on us.

DIONYZA: O your sweet queen!
	That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither,
	To have bless'd mine eyes with her!

PERICLES: 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 named 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.

CLEON: 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 relieved, 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!

PERICLES: I believe you;
	Your honour and your goodness teach me to't,
	Without your vows. Till she be married, madam,
	By bright Diana, whom we honour, 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.

DIONYZA: I have one myself,
	Who shall not be more dear to my respect
	Than yours, my lord.

PERICLES: Madam, my thanks and prayers.

CLEON: We'll bring your grace e'en to the edge o' the shore,
	Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune and
	The gentlest winds of heaven.

PERICLES: 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]




	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE






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