o foot.) Unfortunate man! you
have entered on a melancholy employment, which can never lead you to
happiness. To cause misery to others is sad enough--but to be the
messenger of evil is horrible indeed--to be the first to shriek the
screech-owl's song, to stand by when the bleeding heart trembles upon
the iron shaft of necessity, and the Christian doubts the existence of a
God--Heaven protect me! Wert thou paid a ton of gold for every tear of
anguish which thou must witness, I would not be a wretch like thee! What
is there yet to happen?

WORM. I know not.

LOUISA. You pretend not to know? This light-shunning embassy trembles
at the sound of words, but the spectre betrays itself in your ghastly
visage. What is there yet to happen? You said the duke will inflict
upon him a most exemplary punishment. What call you exemplary?

WORM. Ask me no more.

LOUISA. Terrible man! Some hangman must have schooled thee! Else thou
hast not so well learned to prolong the torture of thy victim before
giving the finishing stroke to the agonized heart! Speak! What fate
awaits my father? Death thou canst announce with a laughing sneer--what
then must that be which thou dost hesitate to disclose? Speak out! Let
me at once receive the overwhelming weight of thy tidings! What fate
awaits my father?

WORM. A criminal process.

LOUISA. But what is that? I am an ignorant, innocent girl, and
understand but little of your fearful terms of law. What mean you by a
criminal process?

WORM. Judgment upon life or death.

LOUISA (firmly). Ah! I thank you.

[Exit hastily by a side door.

WORM (alarmed). What means this? Should the simpleton perchance--
confusion! Surely she will not--I must follow her. I am answerable for
her life. (As he is going towards the door, LOUISA returns, wrapped in a
cloak.)

LOUISA. Your pardon, Mr. Secretary, I must lock the door.

WORM. Whither in such haste?

LOUISA (passing him). To the duke.

WORM (alarmed, detains her). How? Whither?

LOUISA. To the duke. Do you not hear? Even to that very duke whose
will is to decide upon my father's life or death. Yet no?--'tis not his
will that decides, but the will of wicked men who surround his throne.
He lends naught to this process, save the shadow of his majesty, and his
royal signature.

WORM (with a burst of laughter). To the duke!

LOUISA. I know the meaning of that sneering laugh--you would tell me
that I shall find no compassion there. B