stain which time could
never efface should a subject of the prince reject my hand! Appease your
father if you have the power! Defend yourself as you best may! my
resolution is taken. The mine is fired and I abide the issue.

[Exit. FERDINAND remains in speechless astonishment for some
moments; then rushes wildly out.

SCENE IV.--Miller's House.

MILLER meeting LOUISA and MRS. MILLER.

MILLER. Ay! ay! I told you how it would be!

LOUISA (hastening to him with anxiety). What, father? What?

MILLER (running up and down the room). My cloak, there. Quick, quick!
I must be beforehand with him. My cloak, I say! Yes, yes! this was just
what I expected!

LOUISA. For God's sake, father! tell me?

MRS. MILLER. What is the matter, Miller? What alarms you?

MILLER (throwing down his wig). Let that go to the friezer. What is the
matter, indeed? And my beard, too, is nearly half an inch long. What's
the matter? What do you think, you old carrion. The devil has broke
loose, and you may look out for squalls.

MRS. MILLER. There, now, that's just the way! When anything goes wrong
it is always my fault.

MILLER. Your fault? Yes, you brimstone fagot! and whose else should it
be? This very morning when you were holding forth about that confounded
major, did I not say then what would be the consequence? That knave,
Worm, has blabbed.

MRS. MILLER. Gracious heavens! But how do you know?

MILLER. How do I know? Look yonder! a messenger of the minister is
already at the door inquiring for the fiddler.

LOUISA (turning pale, and sitting down). Oh! God! I am in agony!

MILLER. And you, too, with that languishing air? (laughs bitterly).
But, right! Right! There is an old saying that where the devil keeps a
breeding-cage he is sure to hatch a handsome daughter.

MRS. MILLER. But how do you know that Louisa is in question? You may
have been recommended to the duke; he may want you in his orchestra.

MILLER (jumping up, and seizing his fiddlestick). May the sulphurous
rain of hell consume thee! Orchestra, indeed! Ay, where you, you old
procuress, shall howl the treble whilst my smarting back groans the base
(Throwing himself upon a chair.) Oh! God in heaven!

LOUISA (sinks on the sofa, pale as death). Father! Mother! Oh! my
heart sinks within me.

MILLER (starting up with anger). But let me only lay hands on that
infernal quill-driver! I'll make him skip--be it in this world or the
next; if I don't pound him to a