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



	[Enter CLEON and DIONYZA]

DIONYZA: Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone?

CLEON: O Dionyza, such a piece of slaughter
	The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon!

DIONYZA: I think
	You'll turn a child again.

CLEON: Were I chief lord of all this spacious world,
	I'ld give it to undo the deed. O lady,
	Much less in blood than virtue, yet a princess
	To equal any single crown o' the earth
	I' the justice of compare! O villain Leonine!
	Whom thou hast poison'd too:
	If thou hadst drunk to him, 't had been a kindness
	Becoming well thy fact: what canst thou say
	When noble Pericles shall demand his child?

DIONYZA: That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,
	To foster it, nor ever to preserve.
	She died at night; I'll say so. Who can cross it?
	Unless you play the pious innocent,
	And for an honest attribute cry out
	'She died by foul play.'

CLEON: O, go to. Well, well,
	Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods
	Do like this worst.

DIONYZA: Be one of those that think
	The petty wrens of Tarsus will fly hence,
	And open this to Pericles. I do shame
	To think of what a noble strain you are,
	And of how coward a spirit.

CLEON: To such proceeding
	Who ever but his approbation added,
	Though not his prime consent, he did not flow
	From honourable sources.

DIONYZA: Be it so, then:
	Yet none does know, but you, how she came dead,
	Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.
	She did disdain 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 through;
	And though you call my course unnatural,
	You not your child well loving, yet I find
	It greets me as an enterprise of kindness
	Perform'd to your sole daughter.

CLEON: Heavens forgive it!

DIONYZA: And as for Pericles,
	What should he say? We wept after her hearse,
	And yet we mourn: her monument
	Is almost finish'd, and her epitaphs
	In glittering golden characters express
	A general praise to her, and care in us
	At whose expense 'tis done.

CLEON: Thou art like the harpy,
	Which, to betray, dost, with thine angel's face,
	Seize with thine eagle's talons.

DIONYZA: 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]




	PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE






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