Comes from thy queen, who reigns in heaven victorious;
For after stormy wind
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The tempest needs must rage.
Danaos. My children, we need wisdom; lo! ye came
With me, your father wise and old and true,
As guardian of your voyage. Now ashore,
With forethought true I bid you keep my words,
As in a tablet-book recording them:
I see a dust, an army's voiceless herald,