Good madam, make me blessed in your care In bringing up my child. Dion. I have one myself, Who shall not be more dear to my refpect, Than yours, my lord. Per. Madam, my thanks and prayers. Cle. We'll bring your grace even to the edge o`the shore; Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune, and The gentleft winds of heaven. Per. I will embrace Your offer. Come, dear'ft madam.-O, no tears, Lychorida, no tears : Look to your little mistress, on whose grace [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Ephefus. A Room in Cerimon's Houfe. Enter CERIMON and THAISA. Cer, Madam, this letter, and fome certain jewels, That I was shipp'd at sea, I well remember, I cannot rightly fay: But fince king Pericles, A veftal livery will I take me to, And never more have joy. Cer. Madam, if this you purpose as you speak, Diana's temple is not distant far, 8 Where Where you may 'bide until your date expire. Shall there attend you. Tha. My recompence is thanks, that's all; Yet my good will is great, though the gift small. [Exeunt. ACT IV. Enter GOWER. Gow. Imagine Pericles at Tyre, Now to Marina bend your mind, Which makes her both the heart and place For certain in our story, she Be't when the weav'd the fleided filk She fung, and made the night-bird mute, That still records with moan; or when This Philoten contends in skill With abfolute Marina: fo With the dove of Paphos might the crow I do commend to your content: Only I carry winged time Poft on the lame feet of my rhyme ; Unless your thoughts went on my way. Dionyza does appear, With Leonine, a murderer. [Exit. SCENE E 2 SCENE I. Tharfus. An open place near the fea-sbore. Enter DIONYZA and LEONINE. Dion. Thy oath remember; thou haft fworn to do it: Even women have caft off, melt thee, but be Leon. I'll do't; but yet she is a goodly creature. Dion. The fitter then the gods should have her. Here Weeping fhe comes for her old nurfe's death. Thou art refolv'd? Leon. I am refolv'd. Enter MARINA, with a basket of flowers. Mar. No, no, I will rob Tellus of her weed, Shali, as a chaplet, hang upon thy grave, While fummer days do laft. Ah me! poor maid, Born in a tempeft, 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 Confume your blood with forrowing: you have A nurse |