His woful queen leave at Ephess, Now to Marina bend your mind, Whom our fast growing scene must find Which makes her both the heart and place One daughter, and a wench full grown, Would ever with Marina be: Be't when she weav'd the sleided silk She sung, and made the night-bird mute, This Philoten contends in skill With the dove of Paphos might the crow For good Marina, that her daughter The pregnant instrument of wrath I do commend to your content: Only I carry winged time Post on the lame feet of my rhyme; Which never could I so convey, Unless your thoughts went on my way.— Dionyza does appear, With Leonine, a murderer, [Exit. SCENE I.-Tharsus. An open place near the sea-shore. Enter DIONYZA and LEONINE. Dion. Thy oath remember; thou hast sworn to do it: "Tis but a blow, which never shall be known. Leon. I'll do't; but yet she is a goodly creature. Dion. The fitter then the gods should have her. Here Weeping she comes for her old nurse's death. Thou art resolv'd? Leon. I am resolv'd. Enter MARINA, with a basket of flowers. Mar. No, no, I will rob Tellus of her weed, To strew thy green with flowers: the yellows, blues, The purple violets, and marigolds, Shall, as a chaplet, hang upon thy grave, While summer days do last. Ah me! poor maid, Dion. How now, Marina! why do you keep How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not Give me your wreath of flowers, ere the sea mar it. I'll not bereave you of your servant. Dion. Come, come; I love the king your father, and yourself, He will repent the breadth of his great voyage; Mar. Well, I will go; But yet I have no desire to it. Dion. Come, come; I know 'tis good for you. Walk half an hour, Leonine, at the least; Remember what I have said. Leon. I warrant you, madam. Dion. I'll leave you, my sweet lady, for a while; Pray you walk softly, do not heat your blood: What! I must have a care of you. Mar. Thanks, sweet madam. Is this wind westerly that blows? [Exit Dionyza. Mar. When I was born, the wind was north. Mar. My father, as nurse said, did never fear, That almost burst the deck, and from the laddertackle Wash'd off a canvas-climber: Ha! says one, Wilt out? and, with a dropping industry, They skip from stem to stern: the boatswain whistles, The master calls, and trebles their confusion. Leon. And when was this? Mar. It was, when I was born: Never was waves nor wind more violent. Leon. If you require a little space for I grant it: Pray; but be not tedious, prayer, For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn To do my work with haste. Mar. Why will you kill me? Leon. To satisfy my lady. Mar. Why would she have me kill'd? Now, as I can remember, by my troth, my life; I never did her hurt in all I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn Leon. My commission Is not to reason of the deed, but do it. Mar. You will not do't for all the world, I hope. You are well-favour'd, and your looks foreshow You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately, When you caught hurt in parting two that fought: Good sooth, it show'd well in you; do so now: Your lady seeks my life; come you between, And save poor me, the weaker. Leon. I am sworn, And will despatch. Enter Pirates, whilst Marina is struggling. 1 Pirate. Hold, villain! 2 Pirate. A prize! a prize! [Leonine runs away. 3 Pirate. Half-part, mates, half-part. Come, let's have her aboard suddenly. [Exeunt Pirates with Marina. SCENE II.-The same. Re-enter LEONINE. Leon. These roving thieves serve the great pirate Valdes; And they have seiz'd Marina. Let her go: There's no hope she'll return. I'll swear she's dead, And thrown into the sea.-But I'll see further; Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her, |