Love and Intrigue | Page 3

me first cousin of a fool, and that I'm
looking out so high for the girl? You'll not think that of me, Mr.
Secretary?
WORM. Nor have I deserved it of you, Mr. Miller! You have always

shown yourself a man of your word, and my contract to your daughter
was as good as signed. I hold an office that will maintain a thrifty
manager; the president befriends me; the door to advancement is open
to me whenever I may choose to take advantage of it. You see that my
intentions towards Miss Louisa are serious; if you have been won over
by a fop of rank----
MRS MILLER. Mr. Seckertary! more respect, I beg----
MILLER. Hold your tongue, I say. Never mind her, kinsman. Things
remain as they were. The answer I gave you last harvest, I repeat to-day.
I'll not force my daughter. If you suit her, well and good; then it's for
her to see that she can be happy with you. If she shakes her head--still
better--be it so, I should say--then you must be content to pocket the
refusal, and part in good fellowship over a bottle with her father. 'Tis
the girl who is to live with you--not I. Why should I, out of sheer
caprice, fasten a husband upon the girl for whom she has no inclination?
That the evil one may haunt me down like a wild beast in my old
age--that in every drop I drink--in every bit of bread I bite, I might
swallow the bitter reproach: Thou art the villain who destroyed his
child's happiness!
MRS MILLER. The short and the long of it is--I refuse my consent
downright; my daughter's intended for a lofty station, and I'll go to law
if my husband is going to be talked over.
MILLER. Shall I break every bone in your body, you millclack?
WORM (to MILLER). Paternal advice goes a great way with the
daughter, and I hope you know me, Mr. Miller?
MILLER. Plague take you! 'Tis the girl must know you. What an old
crabstick like me can see in you is just the very last thing that a dainty
young girl wants. I'll tell you to a hair if you're the man for an
orchestra--but a woman's heart is far too deep for a music-master. And
then, to be frank with you--you know that I'm a blunt, straightforward
fellow--you'll not give thank'ye for my advice. I'll persuade my
daughter to no one--but from you Mr. Sec--I would dissuade her! A

lover who calls upon the father for help--with permission--is not worth
a pinch of snuff. If he has anything in him, he'll be ashamed to take that
old-fashioned way of making his deserts known to his sweetheart. If he
hasn't the courage, why he's a milksop, and no Louisas were born for
the like of him. No! he must carry on his commerce with the daughter
behind the father's back. He must manage so to win her heart, that she
would rather wish both father and mother at Old Harry than give him
up--or that she come herself, fall at her father's feet, and implore either
for death on the rack, or the only one of her heart. That's the fellow for
me! that I call love! and he who can't bring matters to that pitch with a
petticoat may--stick the goose feather in his cap.
WORM (seizes hat and stick and hurries out of the room). Much
obliged, Mr. Miller!
MILLER (going after him slowly). For what? for what? You haven't
taken anything, Mr. Secretary! (Comes back.) He won't hear, and off
he's gone. The very sight of that quill-driver is like poison and
brimstone to me. An ugly, contraband knave, smuggled into the world
by some lewd prank of the devil--with his malicious little pig's eyes,
foxy hair, and nut-cracker chin, just as if Nature, enraged at such a
bungled piece of goods, had seized the ugly monster by it, and flung
him aside. No! rather than throw away my daughter on a vagabond like
him, she may--God forgive me!
MRS MILLER. The wretch!--but you'll be made to keep a clean tongue
in your head!
MILLER. Ay, and you too, with your pestilential baron--you, too, must
put my bristles up. You're never more stupid than when you have the
most occasion to show a little sense. What's the meaning of all that
trash about your daughter being a great lady? If it's to be cried out
about the town to-morrow, you need only let that fellow get scent of it.
He is one of your worthies who go sniffing about into people's houses,
dispute upon everything, and, if a slip of the tongue happen to you,
skurry with it straight to the prince, mistress, and minister, and then