At the end, Rigoletto weeps for his daughter who sings
of rejoining her mother in heaven and la la la . . .

But wake up, clown, think, and reconsider
the action. At least read the damned libretto:
she disobeyed you (well?); and she was a slut,
going off that way at the first chance to fuck
the duke (well, even so?); but worst of all
she was a melodramatic fool, which is not
what the world permits, or sensible fathers, either.

If Sparafucile hadn't killed her, you
would have been right to do the job yourself.