MARINA.
My mother was the daughter of a king;
Who died the minute I was born,
As my good nurse Lychorida hath oft
Deliver’d weeping.
PERICLES.
O, stop there a little! [Aside.] This is the rarest dream that e’er dull sleep
Did mock sad fools withal: this cannot be:
My daughter, buried. Well, where were you bred?
I’ll hear you more, to the bottom of your story,
And never interrupt you.
MARINA.
You scorn: believe me, ’twere best I did give o’er.
PERICLES.
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?
MARINA.
The king my father did in Tarsus leave me;
Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,
Did seek to murder me: and having woo’d
A villain to attempt it, who having drawn to do’t,
A crew of pirates came and rescued me;
Brought me to Mytilene. But, good sir.
Whither will you have me? Why do you weep? It may be,
You think me an impostor: no, good faith;
I am the daughter to King Pericles,
If good King Pericles be.
PERICLES.
Ho, Helicanus!
Enter Helicanus and Lysimachus.
HELICANUS.
Calls my lord?
PERICLES.
Thou art a grave and noble counsellor,
Most wise in general: tell me, if thou canst,
What this maid is, or what is like to be,
That thus hath made me weep.
HELICANUS.
I know not,
But here is the regent, sir, of Mytilene
Speaks nobly of her.