Thou art a sea that beatest my sides in vain.
Cath. Do I hear thee aright? Thou art adamant
Unto this piteous pleading of my heart,
Thou sendest thine only daughter, our sweet child,
Out into defenceless misery, breakest her heart.
Unnatural, unnatural, unnatural!
It seems but yesternight they said good-bye,
And now she sits and rocks her child and saith
Over and over agen its father’s name.
Pet. Go, Woman, he is dead to thee and thine.