Raim. Let him fly
Who holds no deep asylum in his breast
Wherein to shelter from the scoffs of men;
—I can sleep calmly here.
Pro. Art thou in love
With death and infamy, that so thy choice
Is made, lost boy! when freedom courts thy grasp?
Raim. Father! to set th’ irrevocable seal
Upon that shame wherewith ye have branded me,
There needs but flight. What should I bear from this,