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Diana's temple is not distant far,

Where you may abide till your date expire.
Moreover, if you please, a niece of mine
Shall there attend you.

Thai. My recompense is thanks, that's all;
Yet my good will is great, though the gift small.



Enter GOWER.

Gow. Imagine Pericles arrived at Tyre,
Welcomed and settled to his own desire.
His woeful queen we leave at Ephesus,
Unto Diana there's a votaress.
Now to Marina bend your mind,

Whom our fast-growing scene must find
At Tarsus, and by Cleon train'd

In music, letters; who hath gain'd
Of education all the grace,

Which makes her both the heart and place
Of general wonder. But, alack,
That monster envy, oft the wrack
Of earned praise, Marina's life
Seeks to take off by treason's knife.
And in this kind hath our Cleon
One daughter, and a wench full grown,
Even ripe for marriage-rite; this maid
Hight Philoten: and it is said

For certain in our story, she

Would ever with Marina be:

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4. 's, as. So the old editions. word. But the roughness was

Modern edd. mostly omit the

thought to be archaic.

Be't when she weaved the sleided silk
With fingers long, small, white as milk;
Or when she would with sharp needle wound
The cambric, which she made more sound
By hurting it; or when to the lute

She sung, and made the night-bird mute,
That still records with moan; or when
She would with rich and constant pen
Vail to her mistress Dian; still

This Philoten contends in skill
With absolute Marina: so

With the dove of Paphos might the crow
Vie feathers white. Marina gets

All praises, which are paid as debts,
And not as given. This so darks
In Philoten all graceful marks,
That Cleon's wife, with envy rare,
A present murderer does prepare
For good Marina, that her daughter
Might stand peerless by this slaughter.
The sooner her vile thoughts to stead,
Lychorida, our nurse, is dead:
And cursed Dionyza hath

The pregnant instrument of wrath
Prest for this blow. The unborn event
I do commend to your content :

Only I carry winged time.

Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;
Which never could I so convey,
Unless your thoughts went on my way.

21. sleided, raw, untwisted. 23. needle (pron. neeld). 27. records, sings (used especially of the nightingale).

29. Vail, do homage (with odes in Diana's praise).




31. absolute, perfectly accomplished.

45. Prest, ready prepared. 46. your content, the satisfied attention of the spectators (who will see it represented instead of hearing it reported).

Dionyza does appear,

With Leonine, a murderer.


SCENE I. Tarsus. An open place near the



Dion. Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn
to do 't:

'Tis but a blow, which never shall be known.
Thou canst not do a thing in the world so soon,
To yield thee so much profit. Let not conscience,
Which is but cold, inflaming love i' thy bosom,
Inflame too nicely; nor let pity, which

Even women have cast off, melt thee, but be
A soldier to thy purpose.

Leon. I will do 't; but yet she is a goodly


Dion. The fitter, then, the gods should have her.

Here she comes weeping for her only mistress'


Thou art resolved?

Leon. I am resolved.

Enter MARINA, with a basket of flowers. Mar. No, I will rob Tellus of her weed,

5. inflaming love i thy bosom; Knight's reading for Qq in flaming thy love bosom, Ff inflaming thy love bosom. This gives a possible meaning. Conscience, itself 'cold,' kindles emotion. But it is very probable that inflame, or inflaming, or both, conceal a corruption.


6. Inflame too nicely, incite you with over-idle scruples.

7. be a soldier, be resolute.

II. for her only mistress' death. This line has also hitherto defied restoration. Perhaps mistress is a corruption of minion's.

To strew thy green with flowers: the yellows, blues,

The purple violets, and marigolds,

Shall as a carpet hang upon thy grave,

While summer-days do last. Ay me! poor maid,
Born in a tempest, 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?

Do not

How chance my daughter is not with you?
Consume your blood with sorrowing: you have
A nurse of me. Lord, how your favour's changed
With this unprofitable woe!


Come, give me your flowers, ere the sea mar it.
Walk with Leonine; the air is quick there,
And it pierces and sharpens the stomach.
Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her.
Mar. No, I pray you;

I'll not bereave you of your servant.


Come, come;

I love the king your father, and yourself,
With more than foreign heart. We every day
Expect him here: when he shall come and find
Our paragon to all reports thus blasted,

He will repent the breadth of his great voyage;
Blame both my lord and me, that we have taken
No care to your best courses. Go, I pray you,
Walk, and be cheerful once again; reserve
That excellent complexion, which did steal
The eyes of young and old.
I can go home alone.

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Care not for me;




the first half of the next, taking it to mean the way,' or reading with Hudson: 'on the sea margent.'


Well, I will go;

But yet I have no desire to it.

Dion. Come, come, I know 'tis good for you. Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least:

Remember what I have said.


I warrant you, madam.

Dion. I'll leave you, my sweet lady, for a

while :

Pray, walk softly, do not heat your blood:

What! I must have a care of you.

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Mar. When I was born, the wind was north.

Was 't so?

Mar. My father, as nurse said, did never fear, But cried 'Good seamen !' to the sailors, galling His kingly hands, haling ropes;

And, clasping to the mast, endured a sea

That almost burst the deck.

Leon. When was this?

Mar. When I was born:

Never was waves nor wind more violent;

And from the ladder-tackle washes off

A canvas-climber. 'Ha!' says one, 'wilt out?'
And with a dropping industry they skip

From stem to stern: the boatswain whistles, and
The master calls, and trebles their confusion.

Leon. Come, say your prayers.

Mar. What mean you?

Leon. If you require a little space for prayer,

I grant it: pray; but be not tedious,

For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn
To do my work with haste.

63. dropping, dripping, drenched.



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