FERDINAND (interrupting her). Hold, lady, hold! You exceed the bounds of our conference! You undertook to clear yourself from reproach, and you make me a criminal! Spare me, I beseech you! Spare a heart already overwhelmed by confusion and remorse!
LADY MILFORD (grasping his hand). You must hear me, Walter! hear me now or never. Long enough has the heroine sustained me; now you must feel the whole weight of these tears! Mark me, Walter! Should an unfortunate-impetuously, irresistibly attracted towards you-clasp you to her bosom full of unutterable, inextinguishable love-should this unfortunate-bowed down with the consciousness of shame-disgusted with vicious pleasures-heroically exalted by the inspiration of virtue-throw herself-thus into your arms (embracing him in an eager and supplicating manner); should she do this, and you still pronounce the freezing word "Honor!" Should she pray that through you she might be saved-that through you she might be restored to her hopes of heaven ! (Turning away her head, and speaking in a hollow, faltering voice.) Or should she, her prayer refused, listen to the voice of despair, and to escape from your image plunge herself into yet more fearful depths of infamy and vice--
FERDINAND (breaking from her in great emotion). No, by heaven ! This is more than I can endure! Lady, I am compelled-Heaven and earth compels me-to make the honest avowal of my sentiments and situation.
LADY MILFORD (hastening from him). Oh! not now! By all that is holy I entreat you-spare me in this dreadful moment when my lacerated heart bleeds from a thousand wounds. Be your decision life or death-I dare not-I will not hear it!
FERDINAND. I entreat you, lady! I insist! What I have to say will mitigate my offence, and warmly plead your forgiveness for the past. I have been deceived in you, lady. I expected-nay, I wished to find you deserving my contempt. I came determined to insult you, and to make myself the object of your hate. Happy would it have been for us both had my purpose succeeded! (He pauses; then proceeds in a gentle and faltering voice.) Lady, I love!-I love a maid of humble birth-Louisa Miller is her name, the daughter of a music-master. (LADY MILFORD turns away pale and greatly agitated.) I know into what an abyss I plunge myself; but, though prudence bids me conceal my passion, honor overpowers its precepts. I am the criminal-I first destroyed the golden calm of Louisa's innocence-I lulled her heart with aspiring hopes, and surrendered it, like a betrayer, a prey to the wildest of passions. You will bid me remember my rank-my birth-my father-schemes of aggrandisement. But in vain-I love! My hopes become more fervent as the breach widens between nature and the mere conventions of society- between my resolution and worldly prejudices! We shall see whether love or interest is victorious. (LADY MILFORD during this has retired to the extreme end of the apartment, and covers her face with both hands. FERDINAND approaches her.) Have you aught to answer, lady?
LADY MILFORD (in a tone of intense suffering). Nothing! Nothing! but that you destroy yourself and me-and, with us yet a third.
FERDINAND. A third?
LADY MILFORD. Never can you marry Louisa; never can you be happy with me. We shall all be the victims of your father's rashness. I can never hope to possess the heart of a husband who has been forced to give me his hand.
FERDINAND. Forced, lady? Forced? And yet given? Will you enforce a hand without a heart? Will you tear from a maiden a man who is the whole world to her? Will you tear a maiden from a man who has centered all his hopes of happiness on her alone? Will you do this, lady? you who but a moment before were the lofty, noble-minded daughter of Britain?
LADY MILFORD. I will because I must! (earnestly and firmly). My passions, Walter, overcome my tenderness for you. My honor has no alternative. Our union is the talk of the whole city. Every eye, every shaft of ridicule is bent against me. 'Twere a 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 jelly, body and soul; if I don't write all the Ten Commandments, the seven Penitential Psalms, the five books of Moses, and the whole of the Prophets upon his rascally hide so distinctly that the blue hieroglyphics shall be legible at the day of judgment-if I don't, may I--
MRS. MILLER. Yes, yes, curse and swear your hardest! That's the way to frighten the devil! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, gracious heavens ! What shall we do? Who can advise us? Speak, Miller, speak; this silence distracts me! (She runs screaming up and down the room.)