breast--SECRETARY WORM.

PRESIDENT. A serious attachment, say you? No, no, Worm; that I never
can believe.

WORM. If your excellency pleases, I will bring proofs of my assertions.

PRESIDENT. That he has a fancy for the wench--flatters her--and, if you
will, pretends to love her--all this is very possible--nay--excusable
--but--and the daughter of a musician, you say?

WORM. Of Miller, the music-master.

PRESIDENT. Handsome? But that, of course.

WORM (with warmth). A most captivating and lovely blondine, who, without
saying too much, might figure advantageously beside the greatest beauties
of the court.

PRESIDENT (laughs). It's very plain, Worm, that you have an eye upon the
jade yourself--I see that. But listen, Worm. That my son has a passion
for the fair sex gives me hope that he will find favor with the ladies.
He may make his way at court. The girl is handsome, you say; I am glad
to think my son has taste. Can he deceive the silly wench by holding out
honorable intentions--still better; it will show that he is shrewd enough
to play the hypocrite when it serves his purpose. He may become prime
minister--if he accomplishes his purpose! Admirable! that will prove to
me that fortune favors him. Should the farce end with a chubby
grandchild--incomparable! I will drink an extra bottle of Malaga to the
prospects of my pedigree, and cheerfully pay the wench's lying-in
expenses.

WORM. All I wish is that your excellency may not have to drink that
bottle to drown your sorrow.

PRESIDENT (sternly). Worm! remember that what I once believe, I believe
obstinately--that I am furious when angered. I am willing to pass over
as a joke this attempt to stir my blood. That you are desirous of
getting rid of your rival, I can very well comprehend, and that, because
you might have some difficulty in supplanting the son, you endeavor to
make a cat's-paw of the father, I can also understand--I am even
delighted to find that you are master of such excellent qualifications in
the way of roguery. Only, friend Worm, pray don't make me, too, the butt
of your knavery. Understand me, have a care that your cunning trench not
upon my plans!

WORM. Pardon me, your excellency! If even--as you suspect--jealousy is
concerned, it is only with the eye, and not with the tongue.

PRESIDENT. It would be better to dispense with it altogether. What can
it matter to you, simpleton, whether you get your coin fresh from the
mint, or it comes thro