Page 236 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

Now blessing on thee! Rise; thou art my child.
Give me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus!
She is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been,
By savage Cleon. She shall tell thee all; [215]

When thou shalt kneel, and justify in knowledge
She is thy very princess. Who is this?

HELICANUS
Sir, ’tis the governor of Mytilene
Who, hearing of your melancholy state,

Did come to see you.

PERICLES

I embrace you. [220]
Give me my robes. I am wild in my beholding.
O, heavens bless my girl! But hark, what music?
Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him

O’er, point by point, for yet he seems to doubt,
How sure you are my daughter. But what music? [225]

HELICANUS
My lord, I hear none.

PERICLES
None?
The music of the spheres! List, my Marina!

LYSIMACHUS

It is not good to cross him; give him way.

PERICLES

Rarest sounds! Do ye not hear?

LYSIMACHUS
Music, my lord? I hear.

PERICLES