“Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love
With such integrity, she did confess Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life, But that her flight prevented it, she had Ta'en off by poison. CYMBELINE. O most delicate fiend! Who is't can read a woman?
Is there more?
CORNELIUS. More, sir, and worse. She did confess she had
For you a mortal mineral, which, being took, Should by the minute feed on life, and ling'ring, By inches waste you. In which time she purpos'd,”