I thought, ’twas I that gave him all....
Ner.Tut! tut!
’Tis the old story told a thousand times.
Agr. Ay, and forgot as oft. Thy constant wrongs,
I think, have dug my grave. Dost thou remember
What answer once I made the sorcerer
Who prophesied thy fortune? Thy son, he said,
Shall reign, and kill his mother. Let him kill me,
So that he reign, I cried. He spake the truth,
But ’tis by grief thou slay’st me.