Tarsus. A room in CLEON's house.

Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, and LYCHORIDA with MARINA in her arms

PERICLES
1 Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone;
2 My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands
3 In a litigious peace. You, and your lady,
4 Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods
5 Make up the rest upon you!

CLEON
6 Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,
7 Yet glance full wanderingly on us.

DIONYZA
8 O your sweet queen!
9 That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither,
10 To have bless'd mine eyes with her!

PERICLES
11 We cannot but obey
12 The powers above us. Could I rage and roar
13 As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end
14 Must be as 'tis. My gentle babe Marina, whom,
15 For she was born at sea, I have named so, here
16 I charge your charity withal, leaving her
17 The infant of your care; beseeching you
18 To give her princely training, that she may be
19 Manner'd as she is born.

CLEON
20 Fear not, my lord, but think
21 Your grace, that fed my country with your corn,
22 For which the people's prayers still fall upon you,
23 Must in your child be thought on. If neglection
24 Should therein make me vile, the common body,
25 By you relieved, would force me to my duty:
26 But if to that my nature need a spur,
27 The gods revenge it upon me and mine,
28 To the end of generation!

PERICLES
29 I believe you;
30 Your honour and your goodness teach me to't,
Without 31 your vows. Till she be married, madam,
32 By bright Diana, whom we honour, all
33 Unscissor'd shall this hair of mine remain,
34 Though I show ill in't. So I take my leave.
35 Good madam, make me blessed in your care
36 In bringing up my child.

DIONYZA
37 I have one myself,
38 Who shall not be more dear to my respect
39 Than yours, my lord.

PERICLES
40 Madam, my thanks and prayers.

CLEON
41 We'll bring your grace e'en to the edge o' the shore,
42 Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune and
43 The gentlest winds of heaven.

PERICLES
44 I will embrace
45 Your offer. Come, dearest madam. O, no tears,
Lychorida, no tears:
47 Look to your little mistress, on whose grace
48 You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord.
Exeunt

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