|
TheBard said:
KING LEAR How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little, Lest it may mar your fortunes. CORDELIA Good my lord, আপনি have begot me, bred me, loved me: I Return those duties back as are right fit, Obey you, প্রণয় you, and most honour you. Why have my sisters husbands, if they say They প্রণয় আপনি all? Haply, when I shall wed, That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry Half my প্রণয় with him, half my care and duty: Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, To প্রণয় my father all. KING LEAR But goes thy হৃদয় with this? CORDELIA Ay, good my lord. KING LEAR So young, and so untender? CORDELIA So young, my lord, and true. KING LEAR Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower: For, দ্বারা the sacred radiance of the sun, The mysteries of Hecate, and the night; দ্বারা all the operation of the orbs From whom we do exist, and cease to be; Here I disclaim all my paternal care, Propinquity and property of blood, And as a stranger to my হৃদয় and me Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian, অথবা he that makes his generation messes To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved, As thou my sometime daughter. KENT Good my liege,--
|
|