Tarsus. A Room in CLEON'S House. |
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Enter CLEON and DIONYZA. |
Dion. Why, are you foolish? Can it be undone? |
Cle. O Dionyza! such a piece of slaughter |
The sun and moon ne'er look'd upon. |
Dion. I think |
You'll turn a child again. |
Cle. Were I chief lord of all this spacious world, |
I'd 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? |
Dion 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.' |
Cle. O! go to. Well, well, |
Of all the faults beneath the heavens, the gods |
Do like this worst. |
Dion. Be one of those that think |
The pretty 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. |
Cle. To such proceeding |
Who ever but his approbation added, |
Though not his prime consent, he did not flow |
From honourable sources. |
Dion. Be it so, then; |
Yet none does know but you how she came dead, |
Nor none can know, Leonine being gone. |
She did distain 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 pierc'd me thorough; |
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. |
Cle. Heavens forgive it! |
Dion. And as for Pericles, |
What should he say? We wept after her hearse, |
And even 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. |
Cle. Thou art like the harpy, |
Which, to betray, dost with thine angel's face, |
Seize with thine eagle's talons. |
Dion. 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. |
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