Aim on my part i' the marriage,—money, to wit.
This thrust I have to parry by a guard
Which leaves me open to a counter-thrust
On the other side,—no way but there's a pass
Clean through me. If I prove, as I hope to do,
There's not one truth in this your odious tale
O' the buying, selling, substituting—prove
Your daughter was and is your daughter,—well,
And her dowry hers and therefore mine,—what then?
Why, where's the appropriate punishment for this