What from the cape can you discern at sea? Nothing at all. It is a high-wrought flood. The waters are rough, and I can't see a single sail between the sky and the ocean. Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land, A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements. If it hath ruffianed so upon the sea What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this? The wind's been blowing loudly on land, too. The strongest gust I've ever seen shook our walls. If the same kind of wind has been raging on the sea, what ships made of oak could hold together when waves as tall as mountains strike them?
What do you think will happen? A segregation of the Turkish fleet. The Turkish fleet will be dispersed. From the shore here, the billowing water seems to touch the clouds, and the wind-shaken, surging waves, with their high crests, seem to spray water on the constellations in the sky.
I've never seen such a rough, raging sea. If that the Turkish fleet Be not ensheltered and embayed, they are drowned. It is impossible they bear it out. Unless the Turkish fleet is sheltered from this storm, they must be drowned.
It's impossible for them to survive the storm at sea. News, lads, Our wars are done! The desperate tempest hath so banged the Turks, That their designment halts. A noble ship of Venice Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance On most part of their fleet. I've got news, lads. Our war is over! The storm has battered the Turkish fleet so badly that their attack has been halted.
A noble Venetian ship has seen most of the Turkish fleet shipwrecked and in trouble. Is this true? The ship is here put in, A Veronesa. The Moor himself at sea And is in full commission here for Cyprus. The ship that saw all this is now docking here. The Moor himself is still at sea, having been ordered to come here to Cyprus. But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly And prays the Moor be safe.
