Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Tom Bishop
Not Peer Reviewed

Pericles, Prince of Tyre (Modern)


Enter Pericles at Tharsus with Cleon and Dionyza, [and Lychorida with baby Marina].
Pericles Most honored Cleon, I must needs be gone.
My twelve 1315months 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 strokes of fortune,
Though they hurt you mortally, yet glance
Full woundingly on us.
1320Dionyza
Oh, your sweet queen!
That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither
To have blest 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,
1325Whom 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 mannered as she is born.
Cleon Fear not, my lord, but think:
Your Grace 1330that 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 1335my nature need a spur,
The gods revenge it upon me and mine,
To the end of generation.
Pericles
I believe you.
Your honor and your goodness teach me to't
Without your vows. Till she be married, madam,
By bright Diana, whom we honor, all
1340Unscissored shall this hair of mine remain,
Though I show ill in't. So I take my leave.
Good madam, make me blessèd in your care
In bringing up my child.
Dionyza
I have one myself,
Who shall not be more dear 1345to my respect
Than yours, my lord.
Pericles
Madam, my thanks and prayers.
Cleon We'll bring your Grace e'en to the edge o'th'shore,
Then give you up to the masked Neptune and
The gentlest winds of heaven.
1350Pericles
I will embrace
Your offer. Come, dear'st madam. Oh, no tears,
Lychorida, no tears!
Look to your little mistress, on whose grace
You may depend hereafter. Come, my Lord.
[Exeunt.]