1 There's mine; beg another of thy daughters.
2 Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves, And desperately are dead.
3 Why, to put's head in; not to give it away to his daughters, and leave his horns without a case.
4 But for all this, thou shalt have as many dolours for thy daughters as thou canst tell in a year.
5 Good nuncle, in; and ask thy daughters blessing: here's a night pities neither wise men nor fools.
6 Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see That face of hers again.
7 I would learn that; for by the marks of sovereignty, knowledge and reason, I should be false persuaded I had daughters.
8 Let copulation thrive; For Gloucester's bastard son was kinder to his father Than my daughters got 'tween the lawful sheets.'
9 The princes, France and Burgundy, Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love, Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn, And here are to be answer'd.
10 I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: they'll have me whipped for speaking true; thou'lt have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am whipped for holding my peace.
11 Thy dowerless daughter, King, thrown to my chance, Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France: Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy Can buy this unpriz'd precious maid of me.
12 The barbarous Scythian, Or he that makes his generation messes To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and reliev'd, As thou my sometime daughter.
13 Our son of Cornwall, And you, our no less loving son of Albany, We have this hour a constant will to publish Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife May be prevented now.
14 Reverse thy state; And in thy best consideration check This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgement, Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least; Nor are those empty-hearted, whose low sounds Reverb no hollowness.
15 His own unkindness, That stripp'd her from his benediction, turn'd her To foreign casualties, gave her dear rights To his dog-hearted daughters, these things sting His mind so venomously that burning shame Detains him from Cordelia.
16 Nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou'lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb: why, this fellow has banish'd two on's daughters, and did the third a blessing against his will; if thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb.
17 Go in with me: my duty cannot suffer T'obey in all your daughters' hard commands; Though their injunction be to bar my doors, And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you, Yet have I ventur'd to come seek you out, And bring you where both fire and food is ready.
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