ll me, Kalb,
did you speak to the duke?

MARSHAL (importantly). Full twenty minutes and a half.

PRESIDENT. Indeed? Then doubtless you have important news to impart
to me?

MARSHAL (seriously, after a pause of reflection). His highness wears a
Merde d'Oye beaver to-day.

PRESIDENT. God bless me!--and yet, marshal, I have even greater news to
tell you. Lady Milford will soon become my daughter-in-law. That, I
think will be new to you?

MARSHAL. Is it possible! And is it already agreed upon?

PRESIDENT. It is settled, marshal--and you would oblige me by forthwith
waiting upon her ladyship, and preparing her to receive Ferdinand's
visit. You have full liberty, also, to circulate the news of my son's
approaching nuptials.

MARSHAL. My dear friend! With consummate pleasure! What can I desire
more? I fly to the baroness this moment. Adieu! (Embracing him.) In
less than three-quarters of an hour it shall be known throughout the
town. [Skips off.

PRESIDENT (smiling contemptuously). How can people say that such
creatures are of no use in the world? Now, then, Master Ferdinand must
either consent or give the whole town the lie. (Rings--WORM enters.)
Send my son hither. (WORM retires; the PRESIDENT walks up and down, full
of thought.)

SCENE VII.

PRESIDENT--FERDINAND.

FERDINAND. In obedience to your commands, sir----

PRESIDENT. Ay, if I desire the presence of my son, I must command it--
Ferdinand, I have observed you for some time past, and find no longer
that open vivacity of youth which once so delighted me. An unusual
sorrow broods upon your features; you shun your father; you shun society.
For shame, Ferdinand! At your age a thousand irregularities are easier
forgiven than one instant of idle melancholy. Leave this to me, my son!
Leave the care of your future happiness to my direction, and study only
to co-operate with my designs--come, Ferdinand, embrace me!

FERDINAND. You are most gracious to-day, father!

PRESIDENT. "To-day," you rogue? and your "to-day" with such a vinegar
look? (Seriously.) Ferdinand! For whose sake have I trod that
dangerous path which leads to the affections of the prince? For whose
sake have I forever destroyed my peace with Heaven and my conscience?
Hear me, Ferdinand--I am speaking to my son. For whom have I paved the
way by the removal of my predecessor? a deed which the more deeply gores
my inward feelings the more carefully I conceal the dagger