Lies in the magic of a woman's eyes

For a young virgin heart. I pray you, sir,

Swear to me by the saints, that, come what may,

For no allurement which thy new life brings thee,

The love of wife or child, wilt thou forget

Our Bosphorus, but still wilt hold her weal

Above all other objects of thy love

In good or adverse fortune.

Asan.

Nay, my lord,

There is no need for oaths; yet will I swear it,

Here on this soldier's cross.

[Makes a cross with the hilt of his sword.

Farewell, my father,

24

24

I mar my manhood, staying.

King.

Farewell, son.

Let my old eyes fix on thee till thou goest

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