zed). Father!

PRESIDENT. Answer me not. I have made proposals, in your name, to Lady
Milford. You will instantly determine upon going to her, and declaring
yourself her bridegroom.

FERDINAND. Lady Milford! father?

PRESIDENT. I presume she is not unknown to you!

FERDINAND (passionately). To what brothel is she unknown through the
dukedom? But pardon me, dearest father! It is ridiculous to imagine
that your proposal can be serious. Would you call yourself father of
that infamous son who married a licensed prostitute?

PRESIDENT. Nay, more. I would ask her hand myself, if she would take a
man of fifty. Would not you call yourself that infamous father's son?

FERDINAND. No! as God lives! that would I not!

PRESIDENT. An audacity, by my honor! which I pardon for its excessive
singularity.

FERDINAND. I entreat you, father, release me from a demand which would
render it insupportable to call myself your son.

PRESIDENT. Are you distracted, boy? What reasonable man would not
thirst after a distinction which makes him, as one of a trio, the equal
and co-partner of his sovereign?

FERDINAND. You are quite an enigma to me, father! "A distinction," do
you call it? A distinction to share that with a prince, wherein he
places himself on a level with the meanest of his subjects? (The
PRESIDENT bursts into a loud laugh.) You may scoff--I must submit to it
in a father. With what countenance should I support the gaze of the
meanest laborer, who at least receives an undivided person as the portion
of his bride? With what countenance should I present myself before the
world? before the prince? nay, before the harlot herself, who seeks to
wash out in my shame the brandmarks of her honor?

PRESIDENT. Where in the world couldst thou collect such notions, boy?

FERDINAND. I implore you, father, by heaven and earth! By thus
sacrificing your only son you can never become so happy as you will make
him miserable! If my life can be a step to your advancement, dispose of
it. My life you gave me; and I will never hesitate a moment to sacrifice
it wholly to your welfare. But my honor, father! If you deprive me of
this, the giving me life was a mere trick of wanton cruelty, and I must
equally curse the parent and the pander.

PRESIDENT (tapping him on the shoulder in a friendly manner). That's as
it should be, my dear boy! Now I see that you are a brave and noble
fellow, and worthy of the first woman in the dukedom. You shall have