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say? renounce him!—Wouldst thou I should curse my son?
Francis.
Not so, my Father,—curse thy son! God forbid.—But whom dost thou call thy son?—Is it the monster to whom thou gavest life, and who in return does his utmost to abridge thy life?
O. Moor.
Unnatural child! ah me!—but still, still my child!
Francis.
Yes, an amiable, a precious child, whose continual study is to get rid of an old father.—O that you should be thus slow to discover his character:—Will nothing remove the scales from your eyes?—No—your indulgence must rivet him in all his vices; your support encourage, and even warrant them.—Thus you may avert the curse from his head—that eternal curse, which must now fall upon your own.
O. Moor.
'Tis just, most just:—Mine, mine alone is all the guilt.
Francis.