Her. Woman! how darest thou taunt me with my woes?
Thy children, too, shall perish, and I say
It shall be well! Why takest thou thought for them?
Wearing thy heart, and wasting down thy life
Unto its dregs, and making night thy time
Of care yet more intense, and casting health
Unprized to melt away i’ th’ bitter cup
Thou minglest for thyself? Why, what hath earth
To pay thee back for this? Shall they not live
(If the sword spare them now) to prove how soon