SCENE III. Tarsus. A room in CLEON's house. Pericles, Prince of Tyre  Shakespeare homepage  |  Pericles  | Act 3, Scene 3 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE III. Tarsus. A room in CLEON's house. 

 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  Shakespeare homepage  |  Pericles  | Act 3, Scene 3 

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