Leonine.
To bury kneaded earth for dead Marina
Was a most quaint device. The cheated Tharsians
Pierced Heaven with their howlings; but suspicion,
As if Death closed her busy prying eyes
When the fair Tyrian died, still slumbers on.
The monument of Parian marble wrought,
And epitaph in characters of gold,
Were my contrivance too, and now are finish'd.
I have done all that your resentment ask'd,
And well secured your safety and your fame:
'Tis more than time you listen'd to my suit.

Q.
Can nothing but my person and my crown
Reward your service?

Leon.
I deserve them both.

Q.
Were I sole mistress of the spacious world,
I'd give it all this murther were undone.
The very Wrens of Tharsus will betray it
To Pericles, who now comes to demand her.

Leon.
That's only in my power: Give me your promise
To be my bride, and seal my lips for ever.

Q.
What! wed a murtherer!

Leon.
Who made me so?
Resolve in time ere ruin overtake you,
O'ertake us both. Your flatt'ries drew me in,

You taught me to be bloody and ambitious,
And I will now partake your throne, or perish—
But not alone. You know how popular
The injur'd Prince of Tyre is here in Tharsus.
This City, now the seat of wealth and plenty,
Whose towers invade the clouds, which never stranger
Beheld but wonder'd at, as all acknowledge,
Had but for Pericles been desolate,
Forsaken, or the grave of its inhabitants,
A den for bats to build and wolves to howl in.
How many thousands, living now, remember,
When, famishing with hunger, Prince and people
Sat down and wept for bread; when tender mothers
Fed on their new born babes, and man and wife
Drew lots who first shou'd die, and furnish food
To lengthen out the life of the survivor.
This our distress brought Pericles from Tyre;
Who, bravely scorning to improve th' advantage,
And make a conquest of a prostrate land,
Did with a lib'ral hand supply our [illeg.] wants,
And turn our dying groans to songs of joy.
For this the Tharsians love him as a Father,
And as a God adore him.

Q.
Be it so:
I'm still their Queen, and hold 'em in subjection.

Leon.
Yes, while they please: As we have seen a Lyon
Held with a thread, until some accident,
Or his rash keeper's folly, rous'd his fury.
They've some regard for the good line you came of,
And yet are thereby hardly held from outrage:
So hateful have the pride and other vices,
Notorious in you, made you to the million.

But shou'd they hear, or have the least suspicion
Of your foul dealing with the much lov'd daughter
Of royal Pericles, like flames let loose,
They'd in an instant make this lofty dome
Your fun'ral pile, and give the winds your ashes:
Or having torn you in ten thousand pieces,
With honest scorn, cast out your loath'd remains
For kites and crows to feed on.

Q.
'Tis too true:
Shou'd this dark deed take light, my reign were ended.
I see I must comply. She who has us'd
A wicked agent in a shameful act,
Must thenceforth be his slave. You have my word.
Now your ambition's serv'd, teach me to answer
The King of Tyre when he demands his child.

Leon.
Say she dy'd suddenly, as what's more common?
That you wept o'er her hearse, and mourn her yet;
Then show the monument and epitaph
Procur'd at your expence; and her griev'd Sire
Shall curse the cruel fates that still pursue him
With plague on plague, but ne'er suspect that you
Have been their instrument.

Q.
The deed's not mine.— (Trumpets.
Pericles comes, and I must seem content:
The Traytor's in the toils, and cannot 'scape me. Enter Pericles, Escanes, Guards and Attendants.

Q.
Welcome, great Pericles, to mourning Tharsus.
My royal parents and your faithful friends,
Cleon and Dionysia, are no more.

Per.
Ent'ring the port I met the fatal news.
The hot salt tears this unthought loss drew from me,

Are yet wet on my cheeks. O two such friends!—
But I'm a man born to adversity;
No land e'er gave me rest, and winds and waters,
In their vast tennis-court, have, as a ball,
Used me to make them sport.—But to my purpose.
'Tis more than twice seven years since I beheld thee
With my Marina, both were infants then.
Peace and security smil'd on your birth;
Her's was the rudest welcome to this world
That e'er was Prince's child: Born on the sea,
Hence is she call'd Marina, in a tempest,
When the high working billows kist the Moon,
And the shrill whistle of the boatswain's pipe
Seem'd as a whisper in the ear of Death:
Born when her Mother dy'd. That fatal hour
Must still live with me—O you gracious Gods!
Why do you make us love your goodly gifts,
And snatch them streight away? The waves receiv'd
My Queen. A sea mate's chest coffin'd her corpse;
In which she silent lies 'midst groves of coral,
Or in a glitt'ring bed of shining shells.
The air fed lamps of Heaven, the spouting whale,
And dashing waters, that roll o'er her head,
Compose a monument to hide her bones,
Spacious as Heaven, and lasting as the frame
Of universal Nature.

Esc.
Royal Sir,
This sad companion, dull-ey'd Melancholy,
So long carest, shou'd now be cast aside.

Per.
O never, never: Do not interrupt me.
In the days glorious walk, or peaceful night,
When grief shou'd seem to sleep, a welcome guest,

She fills my anxious thoughts and broken slumbers
With the lov'd image of my lost Thaisa,
And prompts me to rehearse the oft-told tale
Of her disast'rous end; and chiefly now
I come to seek the Phenix that took life
From her dead ashes—But I've almost done—
We left my Princess in her wat'ry tomb,
And, as the winds gave way, arriv'd at Tharsus.
Here to your royal parents I committed
(Whose love I had experienc'd and deserv'd)
My only child, to give her education
Suiting her rank, and in some sort supply
Her pious mother's loss. And this the rather,
For that the peace of Tyre was sorely broken
By foreign foes, and treasons bred at home:
For I have drank the dregs of all misfortunes.
I vow'd too then, though it show'd wilful in me,
That all unsister'd shou'd this heir of mine
Remain till she were marry'd. Those commotions,
That long embroil'd me, being now compos'd;
I'm come to pay my thanks, and claim my daughter.

Q.
Unhappy Prince! wou'd Heaven have heard my Pray'rs,
Thy sweet Marina now by my lov'd side
Had bless'd thy longing eyes; but wretched mortals
In vain oppose the powers that rule above 'em:
Shou'd we rage loud as did the winds and seas
When she was born, things would be as they are.
Unfold those doors, and let the care-worn King
Behold the testimony of our love
To our fair foster Sister, and our grief
For her untimely fate.

The Scene draws, and discovers a Temple with the Monument.

Per. (Reading)
“Here lieth interr'd
“Marina, daughter to the Prince of Tyre.
O thou who gav'st me reason and reflection,
Eternal Jove, rebuke these swelling thoughts,
That wou'd dispute your goodness or your being:
Bind them in walls of brass: Let me remember
I hold my powers from thee, that earthly man
Is but a substance made for your high pleasure:
Teach me, as fits my nature, to submit
To your thrice kindled wrath.

Esc.
Let those who think
They cou'd endure his woes, speak comfort to him;
My soul is faint with terror to behold 'em.

Per.
Fire, water, earth, and air in loud combustion
Hareld my lost Marina to the light;
But dumb and speechless sorrow shall attend
Her timeless passage to the realms of death.
From this curst hour I'll never speak again,
To mock with words unutterable grief;
But make my manners savage as my fortunes,
And be as wretched as the Gods wou'd have me.
Sable shall be the ship henceforth that bears me;
No steel shall touch my face, no water cleanse it,
Nor comb be us'd to part my matted hair.
If e'er I change my raiment, galling sackcloth,
Instead of royal robes, shall gird my loins,
And ashes be my crown. I'll ne'er return,
Ne'er view thy spires again, renowned Tyre;
But wander through the world a wilful vagrant,
And ne'er taste comfort more till death relieve me,

Or Jove restore to my unhoping eyes
What his vindictive hand hath taken from me.
What I have been I'll study to forget:
Do you so too. Tell who I was to no man;
What I am now, a wretch by heav'n devoted
To all distress and by himself abandon'd,
Shall evidence it self. Come, my Escanes.

Esc.
O woful, woful hour! Where shall we go?

Per.
I care not, let blind fortune be our guide:
Shun Tyre, and ev'ry other place is equal.
Fair Queen, adieu. Your kindness to my child
The Gods return you double. Yet consider
And view the frailty of your state in me.
Once Princes sate, like stars, about my throne,
And veil'd their crowns to my supremacy:
Then, like the sun, all paid me reverence
For what I was, and all the grateful lov'd me
For what I did bestow; now not a glow-worm
But in the chearless night displays more brightness,
And is of greater use, than darken'd Pericles.
Be not high minded, Queen, be not high minded:
Time is omnipotent, the King of Kings,
Their parent and their grave—Beware, beware—
Let those who drink of sweet prosperity
In flowing cups, mingle their draughts with pity;
  And think when they behold th' afflicted's tears,
  The misery of others may be theirs. (Exeunt Pericles, Escanes, &c.

Q.
Unhappy Queen! detested Leonine!
O had I tarry'd but a little longer,
Marina had been gone without my guilt:
Or had you put me by this one bad thought,

In which perhaps I ne'er shou'd have relaps'd,
I might have bless'd you as my better genius;
But now must curse you as a cruel wretch
Who seeing me unguarded, seiz'd that moment
To blast my fame, and ruin me for ever.

Leon.
Were this repentance true, 'tis now too late:
But if, as I suspect, 'tis but assum'd
(Your purpose being serv'd) to vail your falshood
(Pretending conscience for your breach of faith)
The cheat's too gross, and you may rest assur'd,
I shall see through and scorn the thin disguise.

Q.
Then here I cast it off. Shall I, who cou'd not bear
The unmeant rivalship of sweet Marina,
Resign my crown, and live a slave to thee?
A wretch whom I detest, a venal villain,
One whom I fix'd on as the worst of men,
For the worst purpose.

Leon.
Base, ungrateful Queen!
Is this all the reward I'm to expect?

Q.
Such a reward as such vile instruments
As you deserve, a murderer's reward,
Thou hast already.

Leon.
Hah!

Q.
Yes, thou art poison'd.
The subtle potion working in thy veins
Is a more certain remedy for talking,
Than all my wealth, or the rich crown of Tharsus.
Not that I fear, now Pericles is gone,
The utmost of thy malice cou'd'st thou live,
As 'tis most sure thou can'st not.

Leon.
Cursed Harpy!
The loathsome grave is better than thy bed,
And Death a lovelier paramour than thee.
O! I am sick at heart.

Q.
The venom works.
How wild he looks? I will be kind, and leave him.

Leon.
Assist my feeble arm, ye righteous Gods!
Though I've offended, do not fail me now.
This cause is yours—'tis well—my hand is arm'd—
Now guide my weapon's point to her false heart,
And we shall both have justice.

Q.
Thoughtless wretch!
Where are my Guards? I shall be murder'd here.

Leon.
As sure as you contriv'd Marina's death,
As sure as you've betray'd and murther'd me. (stabs her.
I fall, but fall reveng'd. Now triumph fury. Enter Guards and Ladies.

Q.
You come too late: The slave has pierc'd my heart.

Leon.
To wound it deeper, know, Marina lives.
The death intended her by you and me,
By Heaven is justly turn'd upon our selves.
To will or act is one at that strict audit,
Where we must soon appear—O Radamanthus— (dies.

Q.
Tear out his tongue, let not the traytor speak.

Guard.
It need not, Madam; he has spoke his last.

Q.
I shall not long survive him—Bear me hence—
Thou art the care of Heav'n, virtuous Marina;
  Its out-casts we. The Gods are just and strong;
  And none who scorn their laws, e'er prosper long. Exeunt.

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