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  • Title: Pericles, Prince of Tyre (Quarto)
  • Editor: Tom Bishop

  • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Tom Bishop
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Pericles, Prince of Tyre (Quarto)

    Enter Cleon, and Dioniza.
    Dion. Why ere you foolish, can it be vndone?
    1670Cleon. O Dioniza, such a peece of slaughter,
    The Sunne and Moone nere lookt vpon.
    Dion. I thinke youle turne a chidle agen.
    Cleon. Were I chiefe Lord of all this spacious world, Ide
    giue it to vndo the deede. O Ladie much lesse in bloud then
    1675vertue, yet a Princes to equall any single Crowne ath earth-
    ith Iustice of compare, O villaine, Leonine whom thou hast
    poisned too , if thou hadst drunke to him tad beene a
    kindnesse becomming well thy face, what canst thou say
    when noble Pericles shall demaund his child?
    1680Dion. That shee is dead. Nurses are not the fates to fo-
    ster it, not euer to preserue, she dide at night, Ile say so, who
    can crosse it vnlesse you play the impious Innocent, and
    for an honest attribute , crie out shee dyde by foule
    1685Cle. O goe too, well, well, of all the faults beneath the
    heauens, the Gods doe like this worst.
    Dion. Be one of those that thinkes the pettie wrens of
    Tharsus will flie hence, and open this to Pericles, I do shame
    to thinke of what a noble straine you are, and of how co-
    1690ward a spirit.
    Cle. To such proceeding who euer but his approba-
    tion added, though not his prince consent, he did not flow
    from honourable courses.
    Dion. Be it so then, yet none does knowe but you
    1695how shee came dead, nor none can knowe Leonine being
    gone. Shee did disdaine my childe, and stoode betweene
    her and her fortunes : none woulde looke on her, but
    cast their gazes on Marianas face, whilest ours was blur-
    ted at, and helde a Mawkin not worth the time of day.
    1700It pierst me thorow, and though you call my course vn-
    naturall, you not your childe well louing, yet I finde it
    greets mee as an enterprize of kindnesse performd to your
    sole daughter.
    Cle. Heauens forgiue it.
    1705Dion. And as for Pericles, what should hee say, we wept
    after her hearse, & yet we mourne, her monument is almost
    finished, & her epitaphs in glittring goldeñ characters expres
    a generrall prayse to her, and care in vs at whose expence
    tis done.
    1710Cle. Thou art like the Harpie,
    Which to betray, doest with thine Angells face ceaze with
    thine Eagles talents.
    Dion. Yere like one that supersticiously,
    Doe sweare too'th Gods, that Winter kills
    1715The Fliies, but yet I know, youle
    doe as I aduise.