Come, let's talk wisely now.
Was thy son murder'd?
Painter.
Ay, sir.
Hieronimo.
So was mine.
How dost thou take it? art thou not sometime mad?
Is there no tricks that comes before thine eyes?
Painter.
O Lord, yes, sir.
Hieronimo.
Art a painter? canst paint me a tear or a wound?
A groan or a sigh? canst paint me such a tree as this?
Painter.