That if she speak, the very bonds of nature
And heaven must be repealed to give her credit,
Saying a mother plots to kill her son?
I marvel not that she, being childless, dares
Avouch such madness, never having known
How near the affections of all mothers are,
Nor that a mother cannot shift her love
Like an adulteress;—nay, nor do I wonder
That she should find among her freedmen those,
Who, having in luxury spent all their substance,