Pericles Translation Act 3, Scene 3
Enter PERICLES, CLEON, DIONYZA, and LYCHORIDA with MARINA in her arms
Most honour'd Cleon, I must needs be gone; My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands In a litigious peace. You, and your lady, Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods Make up the rest upon you!
Dear Cleon, I have to go. My year is up and the state of peace in Tyre is fragile. Thanks for everything you and your wife have done for me. May the gods bless you.
Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally,Yet glance full wanderingly on us.
Though the bad luck you've experienced has hurt you the most, we feel your pain, too.
O your sweet queen!That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither,To have bless'd mine eyes with her!
Your poor queen! If only you could have brought her here, so that I could have met her.
We cannot but obey The powers above us. Could I rage and roar As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end Must be as 'tis. My gentle babe Marina, whom, For she was born at sea, I have named so, here I charge your charity withal, leaving her The infant of your care; beseeching you To give her princely training, that she may be Manner'd as she is born.
Fear not, my lord, but think Your grace, that fed my country with your corn, For which the people's prayers still fall upon you, Must in your child be thought on. If neglection Should therein make me vile, the common body, By you relieved, would force me to my duty: But if to that my nature need a spur, The gods revenge it upon me and mine, To the end of generation!
I believe you; Your honour and your goodness teach me to't, Without your vows. Till she be married, madam, By bright Diana, whom we honour, all Unscissor'd shall this hair of mine remain, Though I show ill in't. So I take my leave. Good madam, make me blessed in your care In bringing up my child.
I have one myself,Who shall not be more dear to my respectThan yours, my lord.
Madam, my thanks and prayers.
We'll bring your grace e'en to the edge o' the shore,Then give you up to the mask'd Neptune andThe gentlest winds of heaven.
I will embrace Your offer. Come, dearest madam. O, no tears, Lychorida, no tears: Look to your little mistress, on whose grace You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord.
LitCharts A+ members also get exclusive access to:
- Downloadable translations of every Shakespeare play and sonnet
- Downloads of 523 LitCharts Lit Guides
- Explanations and citation info for 13,779 quotes covering 523 books
- Teacher Editions for every Lit Guide
- PDFs defining 136 key Lit Terms