ree. Many things did, but they're all down below me now,
Mr. Hippanthigh, way down there (_pointing_) where I can hardly see
them. You get off that bottom rung as I did years ago.

HIPPANTHIGH: I cannot go back on all I've said.

SLADDER: I don't want to make it hard for you. Only just say you believe
in eternal punishment, and then give up talking about it. You may say it
to me if you like. We'll have one other person present so that there's
no going back on it, my daughter if you like. I'll let the bishop know,
and he won't stand in your way any longer, but at present you force his
hand. It's you or the rules of the firm.

HIPPANTHIGH: I cannot.

SLADDER: You can't just say to me and my daughter that you believe in
eternal punishment, and leave me to go over to Axminster and put it
right with the bishop?

HIPPANTHIGH: I cannot say what I do not believe.

SLADDER: Think. The bishop probably doesn't believe it himself. But
you've been forcing his hand,--going out of your way to.

HIPPANTHIGH: I cannot say it.

SLADDER (_rising_): Mr. Hippanthigh, there's two kinds of men, those
that succeed, those that don't. I know no other kind. You ...

HIPPANTHIGH: I cannot go against my conscience.

SLADDER: I don't care what your reason is. You are the second kind. I am
sorry my daughter ever loved a man of that sort. I am sorry a man of
that sort ever entered my house. I was a little, dirty, ragged boy. You
make me see what I would be to-day if I had been a man of your kind. I
would be dirty and ragged still. (_His voice has been rising during this
speech._)

[_Enter_ ERMYNTRUDE.

ERMYNTRUDE: Father! What are you saying, father? I heard such loud
voices.

[HIPPANTHIGH _stands silent and mournful._

SLADDER: My child, I had foolish ideas for you once, but now I say that
you are to marry a man, not a wretched, miserable little curate, who
will be a wretched, miserable little curate all his life.

ERMYNTRUDE: Father, I will not hear such words.

SLADDER: I've given him every chance. I've given him more than every
chance, but he prefers the bottom rung of the ladder; there we will
leave him.

ERMYNTRUDE: O, father! How can you be so cruel?

SLADDER: It's not my fault, and it's not the bishop's fault. It's his
own silly pig-headedness.

[_He goes back to his chair._

ERMYNTRUDE (_going up to_ HIPPANTHIGH): O, Charlie, couldn't you do what
father wants?

HIPPANTHIGH: No, no, I cannot. He wants me to go back