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Than is his father's, must embrace the fate And be a happy mother by the deed. I nurs'd her daughter that you talk'd withal; To give these mourning duties to your father; Why in that rawness left you wife and child,-- This, in obedience, hath my daughter show'd me; That I, the son of a dear father murder'd, And so have I a noble father lost; Was my father a traitor, mother? Where is my father and my mother, nurse? Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeas'd | Most throughly for my father. |
Of my child's love: I think she will be rul'd 'A was a merry man,--took up the child: