ISM. My lord, in misery, the mind one hath
Is wont to be dislodged, and will not stay.
CR. You have ta’en leave of yours at any rate,
When you cast in your portion with the vile.
ISM. What can life profit me without my sister?
CR. Say not ‘my sister’; she is nothing now.
ISM. What? wilt thou kill thy son’s espousal too?
CR. He may find other fields to plough upon.
ISM. Not so as love was plighted ’twixt them twain.
CR. I hate a wicked consort for my son.
ANT. O dearest Haemon! how thy father wrongs thee!
CR. Thou and thy marriage are a torment to me.