The purple violets, and marigolds,

Shall, as a carpet, hang upon thy grave,

While summer days do last. Ah me, poor maid !
Born in a tempest, when my mother died,

This world to me is like a lasting storm,

Whirring me from my friends.

Dion. How now, Marina! why do you weep alone? How chance my daughter is not with you? Do not Consume your blood with sorrowing: you have A nurse of me. Lord! how your favour's chang'd With this unprofitable woe! Come, come; Give me your flowers, ere the sea mar it. Walk with Leonine; the air is quick there, And it pierces and sharpens the stomach. Come, Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her'. Mar. No, I pray you;

I'll not bereave you of your servant.

Dion.

Come, come;

I love the king your father, and yourself,
With more than foreign heart. We every day
Expect him here: when he shall come, and find
Our paragon to all reports thus blasted,

He will repent the breadth of his great voyage;
Blame both my lord and me, that we have taken
No care to your best courses. Go, I pray you;
Walk, and be cheerful once again: reserve
That excellent complexion, which did steal
The eyes of young and old.

8

Care not for me;

why do you wEEP alone?] Malone tells us that the earliest copies read keep for "weep." Such is not the case with the quarto, 1609, the property of the Duke of Devonshire, which, like all the subsequent impressions, has "weep alone." Either word may be right, but, from what follows, "weep seems preferable, and probably was substituted for keep.

9 A nurse of me.] The quarto, 1609, alone puts this interrogatively, “Have you a nurse of me?"

1 Leonine, take her by the arm, walk with her.] The metre of this speech, as well as of many others in this play, is very irregular, but we, of course, prefer giving it as in the old editions, to any modern attempts to amend the lines. Steevens and others thrust in various words under this pretext, which we have discarded.

I can go home alone.

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 care of you.

Mar. When I was born, the wind was north.
Leon.

Was't so?

Mar. My father, as nurse said, did never fear,
But cry'd "good seamen!" to the sailors, galling
His kingly hands hauling ropes;

And, clasping to the mast, endur'd a sea
That almost burst the deck.

Leon. When was this?

Mar. When I was born:

"wilt out?"

Never were waves nor wind more violent;
And from the ladder-tackle washes off
A canvass-climber. "Ha!" says one,
And with a dropping industry they skip
From stem to stern2: the boatswain whistles, and
The master calls, and trebles their confusion.

Leon. Come; say your prayers.

Mar.

What mean you?

Leon. If you require a little space for prayer,

I grant it. Pray; but be not tedious,

For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn
To do my work with haste.

2 From STEM to stern:] In all the old editions it is misprinted, " From stern to stern." Corrected by Malone.

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,
I never did her hurt in all my life.
I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn
To any living creature: believe me, la,
I never kill'd a mouse, nor hurt a fly:
I trod upon a worm against my will,
But I wept for it. How have I offended,
Wherein my death might yield her profit, or
My life imply her any danger?

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.

3 Pirate. Half-part, mates, half-part. Come, let's

have her aboard suddenly.

[Exeunt Pirates with MARINA.

SCENE II.

Near the Same.

Enter LEONINE.

Leon. These roguing 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 farther;
Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her,
Not carry her aboard. If she remain,

Whom they have ravish'd must by me be slain. [Exit.

SCENE III.

Mitylene. A Room in a Brothel.

Enter PANDER, Bawd, and BOULT.

Pand. Boult.

Boult. Sir.

Pand. Search the market narrowly; Mitylene is full of gallants: we lost too much money this mart, by being too wenchless.

Bawd. We were never so much out of creatures. We have but poor three, and they can do no more than they can do; and they with continual action are even as good as rotten.

Pand. Therefore, let's have fresh ones, whate'er we pay for them. If there be not a conscience to be used in every trade we shall never prosper.

Bawd. Thou say'st true: 'tis not the bringing up of poor bastards, as I think, I have brought up some eleven

Boult. Ay, to eleven; and brought them down again. But shall I search the market?

Bawd. What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong wind will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully sodden.

Pand. Thou say'st true; they're too unwholesome o' conscience'. The poor Transilvanian is dead, that lay with the little baggage.

Boult. Ay, she quickly pooped him; she made him roast-meat for worms.

But I'll go search the market. [Exit BOULT. Pand. Three or four thousand chequins were as pretty a proportion to live quietly, and so give overBawd. Why, to give over, I pray you? is it a shame to get when we are old?

Pand. O! our credit comes not in like the commodity; nor the commodity wages not with the danger: therefore, if in our youths we could pick up some pretty estate, 'twere not amiss to keep our door hatched. Besides, the sore terms we stand upon with the gods will be strong with us for giving over.

Bawd. Come; other sorts offend as well as we.

Pand. As well as we? ay, and better too; we offend worse. Neither is our profession any trade; it's no calling. But here comes Boult.

Enter BOULT, and the Pirates with MARINA.

Boult. Come your ways. My masters, you say she's a virgin?

1 Pirate. O, sir! we doubt it not.

Boult. Master, I have gone thorough for this piece, you see if you like her, so; if not, I have lost my earnest.

3 THEY'RE TOO unwholesome o' conscience.] The old copies all read, “there's two unwholesome o' conscience;" but the Pander does not appear to be speaking of any particular number.