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- # Pericles Prince of Tyre.
Lys, Sir, with all my heart, and when you come a shore,
I have another sleight.
Per. You shall prepaile were it to wooe my daughter, for
It seems you have been no ble towards her.
Lys, Sir, lend me your arme.
Per. Come my Marina.
## Excuse.
Gamer. Now our sands are almost run,
More a little, and then dum.
This my last boone glue meec;
For such kindneffe must relieve meec:
That you aptly will suppose,
What pageantry, what seats, what showes,
What ministreffie, and prettie din,
The Regent made in Metalsu.
To greet the King, so he thriued,
That he is promissde to be wiued
To saire Marina, but in no wise,
Till he had done his sacrifice.
As Dian bad, whereto being bound,
The Intering pray, you all confound,
In fetherd briefenes sayles are fild;
And wishes fall out as they 'r wild;
At Ephesus the Temple see,
Our King and all his companie.
That he can hither come so soone,
Is by your fancies thankfull doome.
Per. Haile Dian, to performe thy just commandn,
I here confesse my fesse the King of Tyre;
Who frighted from my country did wed at Pentapolis; the
faire Thusfayat Sea in childbed died she, but brought forth a
Mayd child calld Marina whom, O Goddete wears, yet thy
siluer luceryfhec at Tharfus was nurtst with Cleon; who at
fourtene yearces he fought to murder, but her better sars
brought
V. i. 260—V. iii. 9
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