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She, questionless, with her sweet harmony,
And other choice attractions, would allure,
And make a battery through his deafen'd parts,
Which now are midway stopp'd:
She is all happy as the fair'st of all,
And, with her fellow maids, is now upon
The leafy shelter that abuts against
The island's side.

[He whispers one of the attendant Lords, who
leaves the ship.

Hel. Sure, all effectless; yet nothing we'll omit, That bears recovery's name. But, since your kindness We have stretch'd thus far, let us beseech you, That for our gold we may provision have, Wherein we are not destitute for want, But weary for the staleness.

Lys. 0, sir, a courtesy,

Which, if we should deny, the most just God
For every graff would send a caterpillar,
And so inflict our province.—Yet once more
Let me entreat to know at large the cause
Of your King's sorrow.

Hel. Sit, sir, I will recount it to you ; —-
But see, I am prevented.

The Lord returns with Mabhsta, and a young Lady.

Lys, O, here is

The lady that I sent for. Welcome, fair one!
Is 't not a goodly presence?

Hel. She's a gallant lady.

Lys. She's such a one, that, were I well assur'd Came of a gentle kind, and noble stock, I'd wish no better choice, and think me rarely wed. — Fair one, all goodness that consists in bounty Expect even here, where is a kingly patient:

If that thy prosperous and artificial feat
Can draw him but to answer thee in aught,
Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay
As thy desires can wish.

Mar. Sir, I will use

My utmost skill in his recovery,
Provided

That none but I and my companion maid
Be suffer'd to come near him,

Lys. Come, let us leave her,

And the gods make her prosperous!

[lys., Hel., and Lords retire.

Marina sings.

Lys. Mark'd he your music?

Mar. No, nor look'd on us.

Lys. See, she will speak to him.

Mar. Hail, sir! my lord, lend ear. —

Per. Hum! ha!

Mar. I am a maid, My lord, that ne'er before invited eyes, But have been gaz'd on like a comet: she speaks, My lord, that may be, hath endur'd a grief Might equal yours, if both were justly weigh'd.

[pericles pushes her away. Though wayward fortune did malign my state, My derivation was from ancestors Who stood equivalent with mighty kings; But time hath rooted out my parentage, And to the world and awkward casualties Bound me in servitude. — \_Aside.~\ I will desist; But there is something glows upon my cheek, And whispers in mine ear, 'Go not till he speak.'

Per. My fortunes — parentage — good parentage -— To equal mine ! — was it not thus? what say you?

Mar. I said, my lord, if you did know my parentage, You would not do me violence.

Per. I do think so. Pray you, turn your eyes upon me. -— You are like something that—-What countrywoman? Here of these shores?

Mar. No, nor of any shores;

Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am
No other than I appear.

Per. I am great with woe, and shall deliver
weeping.
My dearest wife was like this maid, and such a one
My daughter might have been: my Queen's square

brows; Her stature to an inch; as wand-like straight; As silver-voic'd; her eyes as jewel-like, And cas'd as richly; in pace another Juno; Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them

hungry, The more she gives them speech. — Where do you live?

Mar. Where I am but a stranger: from the deck You may discern the place.

Per. Where were you bred?

And how achiev'd you these endowments, which
You make more rich to owe.

Mar. If I should tell my history, 'twould seem Like lies, disdain'd in the reporting.

Per. Pr'ythee, speak:

Falseness cannot come from thee; for thou look'st
Modest as Justice, and thou seem'st a palace
For the crown'd Truth to dwell in. I will believe thee,
And make my senses credit thy relation,
To points that seem impossible; for thou look'st
Like one I lov'd indeed. What were thy friends?
Did'st thou not say, when I did push thee back,

(Which was when I perceiv'd thee,) that thou cam'st From good descending?

Mar. So indeed I did.

Per. Report thy parentage. I think thou said'st Thou had'st been toss'd from wrong to injury, And that thou thought' st thy griefs might equal

mine, If both were open'd.

Mar. Some such thing

I said, and said no more but what my thoughts
Did warrant me was likely.

Per. Tell thy story;

If thine consider'd prove the thousandth part
Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I
Have suffer'd like a girl: yet thou dost look
Like Patience, gazing on kings' graves, and smiling
Extremity out of act. What were thy friends?
How lost thou [them]? Thy name, my most kind

virgin?
Recount, I do beseech thee. Come, sit by me.

Mar. My name is Marina.

Per. O, I am mock'd,

And thou by some incensed god sent hither
To make the world to laugh at me.

Mar. Patience, good sir.

Or here I'll cease.

Per. Nay, I'll be patient.

Thou little know'st how thou dost startle me,
To call thyself Marina.

Mar. The name

Was given me by one that had some power, -—
My father, and a king.

Per. How! a king's daughter?

And call'd Marina?

Mar. You said you would believe me;

But, not to be a troubler of your peace,
I will end here.

Per. But are you flesh and blood?

Have you a working pulse? and are no fairy ? —Motion? — Well; speak on. Where were you born, And wherefore call'd Marina r

Mar. Call'd Marina,

For I was born at sea.

Per. At sea! what mother?

Mar. My mother was the daughter of a king; Who died the minute I was born, As my good nurse Lyehorida hath oft Deliver'd weeping.

Per. O, stop there a little.

[Aside.~\ This is the rarest dream that e'er dull'd sleep
Did mock sad fools withal; this cannot be:
My daughter's buri'd.—Well:-—where were you

bred?
I'll hear you more, to the bottom of your story,
And never interrupt you.

Mar. You scorn: believe me, 'twere best I did give o'er.

Per. I will believe you by the syllable Of what you shall deliver. Yet, give me leave: How came you in these parts? where were you bred ^

Mar. The King, my father, did in Tharsus lea\e me, Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife, Did seek to murther me; and having woo'd A villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do 't, A crew of pirates came and rescu'd me; Brought me to Mitylene. But, good sir, Whither will you have me? Why do you weep?

may be You think me an impostor: no, good faith;

VOL. XII. Y

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