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, it had been a kindness
Becoming well thy face^{1 note}
: what canst thou say,
When noble Pericles shall demand his child^{2 note}

Dion.
That she is dead. Nurses are not the fates,
To foster it, nor ever to preserve^{3 note}




.
She died at night^{4 note}

; I'll say so. Who can cross it^{5 note}






?

Unless you play the impious innocent^{6 note}

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 Tharsus will fly hence,9Q1333
And open this to Pericles. I do shame
To think of what a noble strain you are,
And of how coward a spirit^{7 note}

Cle.
To such proceeding
Who ever but his approbation added,

Though not his pre-consent^{8 note}




, he did not flow
From honourable courses.

Dion.
Be it so then:
Yet none doth know, but you, how she came dead,
Nor none can know, Leonine being gone.
She did disdain 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^{9 note}

You not your child well loving, yet I find,
It greets me, as an enterprize of kindness,
Perform'd to your sole daughter^{3 note}
.

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 expence 'tis done.

Cle.
Thou art like the harpy,
Which, to betray, dost, with thine angel's face,
Seize with thine eagle's talons^{4 note}

Dion.
You are like one, that superstitiously

Doth swear to the gods, that winter kills the flies^{5 note};
But yet I know you'll do as I advise. [Exeunt. Enter Gower, before the Monument of Marina at Tharsus.

Gow.
Thus time we waste, and longest leagues make short,
Sail seas in cockles^{6 note}, have and wish but for't;
Making, (to take your imagination)
From bourn to bourn^{7 note}

The stages of our story^{8 note}

Is left to govern. Bear you it in mind,
Old Helicanus goes along behind.
Well-sailing ships, and bounteous winds have brought
This king to Tharsus, (think his pilot thought^{2 note}

Gow.
See how belief may suffer by foul show!
This borrow'd passion stands for true old woe^{4 note}