ertaking is beyond my sphere; send
for an architect, and what he plans I will endeavour to execute. My
head may conceive the plan for a common dwelling-house well enough, but
not for a palace; and so I do not wish to step out of my line." The old
Prince has since repeatedly thanked me for it, and said, with a
significant nod, "You were right, master, Clarenbach! I wish some of my
counsellors would do the same, and, when called on, say, I am not fit
to fill that office. But they take the hatchet in hand, and slash away
without any art or judgment."--My dear son, throw it down, and let some
good political carpenter take it up. God be with you!

SCENE IX.

Enter Lawyer WELLENBERG.

_Well._ Are you all here?--thank God!

_Clar._ You are welcome, Mr. Wellenberg.

_Well._ A chair, a chair. (P. Counsellor reaches a chair.)

_Clar._ What is the matter with you, pray?

_Well._ O Heaven! oh!

_Fred._ What ails you, Sir?

_Gern._ You make me uneasy.

_Soph._ Have you spoken with my father?

_Well._ Yes, yes, yes.

_P. Coun._ Dear Wellenberg, pray speak plain.

_Well._ _Est necesse, ut remotis testibus loquar._

_P. Coun._ _Dicam ergo aliis ut abeant._

_Well._ _Imo, jubeas, quaeso! sunt enim res summi momenti._

_P. Coun._ _Nunquid sane de sponsae meae parente?_

_Well._ _Quin ita! agitur enim vitae et animae salus._

_P. Coun._ Good folks, leave me a minute alone with this good
gentleman.

_Clar._ Good God!

_Soph._ It concerns my father.--O Clarenbach!

_P. Coun._ We will manage all for the best.

_Soph._ To your compassion, to your filial compassion,--to your duty as
a son, to your heart, to every thing I appeal, Clarenbach! You must
bring him back to the path of virtue, even against his will. You must,
and my gratitude shall be eternal.

SCENE X.

Enter Aulic Counsellor REISSMAN.

_Reiss._ Mr. Wellenberg!--

_Well._ Oh, that God--(Rises.)

_Reiss._ I want to speak with you.

_Well._ No, no! I will not.--Keep off, keep at six yards distance from
me at least.

_Reiss._ I must have a private conversation with you.

_Well._ God forbid!

_Soph._ Dear Mr. Wellenberg grant it; I entreat you.

_Well._ Can I?--ask him.

_P. Coun._ I beg, I entreat you.

_Well._ (after a pause?) Well, yes. Yes then, I will run the risk.

_Soph._ I thank you.

_Well._ But--(beckons the Privy Couns