with--God knows what
all--about heavenly fooleries that will get into her blood, like Spanish
flies, and scatter to the winds the handful of Christianity that cost her
father so much trouble to keep together. Into the fire with them I say!
The girl will take the devil's own nonsense into her head; amidst the
dreams of her fool's paradise she'll not know her own home, but forget
and feel ashamed of her father, the music-master; and, lastly, I shall
lose a worthy, honest son-in-law who might have nestled himself so
snugly into my connections. No! damn it! (Jumps up in a passion.) I'll
break the neck of it at once, and the major--yes, yes, the major! shall be
shown where the carpenter made the door. (Going.)
MRS MILLER. Be civil, Miller! How many a bright shilling have his
presents----
MILLER (comes back, and goes up to her). The blood money of my
daughter? To Beelzebub with thee, thou infamous bawd! Sooner will I
vagabondize with my violin and fiddle for a bit of bread--sooner will I
break to pieces my instrument and carry dung on the sounding-board
than taste a mouthful earned by my only child at the price of her soul
and future happiness. Give up your cursed coffee and snuff-taking, and
there will be no need to carry your daughter's face to market. I have
always had my bellyful and a good shirt to my back before this
confounded scamp put his nose into my crib.
MRS MILLER. Now don't be so ready to pitch the house out of
window. How you flare up all of a sudden. I only meant to say that we
shouldn't offend the major, because he is the son of the president.
MILLER. There lies the root of the mischief. For that reason--for that
very reason the thing must be put a stop to this very day! The president,
if he is a just and upright father, will give me his thanks. You must
brush up my red plush, and I will go straight to his excellency. I shall
say to him,--"Your excellency's son has an eye to my daughter; my
daughter is not good enough to be your excellency's son's wife, but too
good to be your excellency's son's strumpet, and there's an end of the
matter. My name is Miller."
SCENE II.
Enter SECRETARY WORM.
MRS MILLER. Ah! Good morning, Mr. Seckertary! Have we indeed
the pleasure of seeing you again?
WORM. All on my side--on my side, cousin Miller! Where a high-born
cavalier's visits are received mine can be of no account whatever.
MRS MILLER. How can you think so, Mr. Seckertary? His lordship
the baron, Major Ferdinand, certainly does us the honor to look in now
and then; but, for all that, we don't undervalue others.
MILLER (vexed). A chair, wife, for the gentleman! Be seated,
kinsman.
WORM (lays aside hat and stick, and seats himself). Well, well--and
how then is my future--or past--bride? I hope she'll not be--may I not
have the honor of seeing--Miss Louisa?
MRS MILLER. Thanks for inquiries, Mr. Seckertary, but my daughter
is not at all proud.
MILLER (angry, jogs her with his elbow). Woman!
MRS MILLER. Sorry she can't have that honor, Mr. Seckertary. My
daughter is now at mass.
WORM. I am glad to hear it,--glad to hear it. I shall have in her a pious,
Christian wife!
MRS MILLER (smiling in a stupidly affected manner). Yes--but, Mr.
Seckertary----
MILLER (greatly incensed, pulls her ears). Woman!
MRS MILLER. If our family can serve you in any other way--with the
greatest pleasure, Mr. Seckertary----
WORM (frowning angrily). In any other way? Much obliged! much
obliged!--hm! hm! hm!
MRS MILLER. But, as you yourself must see, Mr. Seckertary----
MILLER (in a rage, shaking his fist at her). Woman!
MRS MILLER. Good is good, and better is better, and one does not
like to stand between fortune and one's only child (with vulgar pride).
You understand me, Mr. Seckertary?
WORM. Understand. Not exac---. Oh, yes. But what do you really
mean?
MRS MILLER. Why--why--I only think--I mean--(coughs). Since then
Providence has determined to make a great lady of my daughter----
WORM (jumping from his chair). What's that you say? what?
MILLER. Keep your seat, keep your seat, Mr. Secretary! The woman's
an out-and-out fool! Where's the great lady to come from? How you
show your donkey's ears by talking such stuff.
MRS MILLER. Scold as long as you will. I know what I know, and
what the major said he said.
MILLER (snatches up his fiddle in anger). Will you hold your tongue?
Shall I throw my fiddle at your head? What can you know? What can
he have said? Take no notice of her clack, kinsman! Away with you to
your kitchen! You'll not think
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