"Per. At sea? thy mother?
"Mar. My mother was the daughter of a king;
Who died the very minute I was born,
As my good nurse Lychorida hath oft
Deliver'd weeping.
"Per. O, stop there a little!
This is the rarest dream that e'er dull sleep
Did mock sad fools withal: this cannot be.
My daughter's buried. [Aside.] Well:—where were you bred?
I'll hear you more, to the bottom of your story,
And never interrupt you.
"Mar. You'll scarce believe me; 'twere best I did give o'er.
"Per. 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?
"Mar. The king my father, did in Tharsus leave
Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife,
Did seek to murder me: and having woo'd
A villain to attempt it, who having drawn,
A crew of pirates came and rescued me;
Brought me to Mitylene. But, now good, sir,
Whither will you have me? Why do you weep? It may be,
Page:Gesta Romanorum - Swan - Wright - 2.djvu/495
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NOTES.
483
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/10/Gesta_Romanorum_-_Swan_-_Wright_-_2.djvu/page495-1024px-Gesta_Romanorum_-_Swan_-_Wright_-_2.djvu.jpg)