I bade him to discard her: he was driven
To choose between us: she hath carried it.
But being escaped, and she not here, I yet
Can right myself with him. ’Tis not too late;
Nay, I can amply trust those broad affections,
Which ’twixt a mother and her son remain
At bottom, spite of all. Ay, they remain.
The common knowledge of this guilty attempt
Will clear the way: and when I show the path,
He will be glad to escape. I have writ a letter,