Either for life or death, upon the earth
Of [its] right father. Blossom, speed thee [well]!
There lie, and there thy character: there [these];
Which may, if fortune [please], both breed thee, [pretty],
And still rest thine. The storm begins: poor wretch,
That for thy mother's fault art thus exposed
To loss and what may follow! Weep I cannot,
But my heart bleeds; and most accursed am I
To be by oath enjoin'd to this. Farewell!
The day frowns more and more: [thou'rt] like to have