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Most honour’d Cleon, I must needs be gone; My twelve months are expired, and Tyrus stands In a litigious peace. You, and your lady, Take from my heart all thankfulness! The gods Make up the rest upon you!
Most honored Cleon, I must leave now; My twelve months are up, and Tyrus is In a delicate peace. You and your wife, Take all my gratitude from my heart! The gods Will repay you for the rest!
Your shafts of fortune, though they hurt you mortally, Yet glance full wanderingly on us.
The arrows of fate, though they strike you deeply, Yet still hit us in strange ways.
O your sweet queen! That the strict fates had pleased you had brought her hither, To have bless’d mine eyes with her!
Oh, your sweet queen! How I wish the fates had brought her here, So I could bless my eyes with her!
We cannot but obey The powers above us. Could I rage and roar As doth the sea she lies in, yet the end Must be as ’tis. My gentle babe Marina, whom, For she was born at sea, I have named so, here I charge your charity withal, leaving her The infant of your care; beseeching you To give her princely training, that she may be Manner’d as she is born.
We cannot do anything but obey The powers above us. Even if I could scream and shout As violently as the sea she lies in, still the end Must be as it is. My dear baby Marina, whom, Since she was born at sea, I named her so, here I charge you with her care, leaving her The infant of your kindness; asking you To give her a noble upbringing, so she may be Raised to be as royal as she was born.
Fear not, my lord, but think Your grace, that fed my country with your corn, For which the people’s prayers still fall upon you, Must in your child be thought on. If neglection Should therein make me vile, the common body, By you relieved, would force me to my duty: But if to that my nature need a spur, The gods revenge it upon me and mine, To the end of generation!
Don’t worry, my lord, but think Of your kindness, which fed my country with your grain, For which the people’s prayers are always on you, Must be passed on in your child. If neglecting her Would make me dishonorable, the people, Who have been helped by you, would force me to my duty: But if I need more encouragement for that, May the gods punish me and mine, Until the end of time!
I believe you; Your honour and your goodness teach me to’t, Without your vows. Till she be married, madam, By bright Diana, whom we honour, all Unscissor’d shall this hair of mine remain, Though I show ill in’t. So I take my leave. Good madam, make me blessed in your care In bringing up my child.
I trust you; Your honor and goodness inspire me to believe it, Without needing your oaths. Until she’s married, madam, By bright Diana, whom we honor, all Uncut shall this hair of mine remain, Even though it may seem strange. So I take my leave. Good madam, bless me with your care In raising my child.
I have one myself, Who shall not be more dear to my respect Than yours, my lord.
I have one of my own, Who will not be more important to me Than yours, my lord.
Madam, my thanks and prayers.
Madam, I thank you and will pray for you.
We’ll bring your grace e’en to the edge o’ the shore, Then give you up to the mask’d Neptune and The gentlest winds of heaven.
We’ll take you to the edge of the shore, And then give you over to the god Neptune and The mildest winds from heaven.
I will embrace Your offer. Come, dearest madam. O, no tears, Lychorida, no tears: Look to your little mistress, on whose grace You may depend hereafter. Come, my lord.
I will accept Your offer. Come, dearest madam. Oh, no tears, Lychorida, no tears: Take care of your little mistress, on whose kindness You can rely from now on. Come, my lord.