O, fie! What would they call an autumn morning that smiles through its ragged clouds?
Take no heed of what they say to you, my child.
Take no heed of what they say to you, my child.
They make a long list of your misdeeds. Everybody knows how you love sweet things--is that why they call you greedy?
O, fie! What then would they call us who love you?
THE JUDGE
SAY of him what you please, but I know my child's failings.
I do not love him because he is good, but because he is my little child.
How should you know how dear he can be when you try to weigh his merits against his faults?