LEONT. And that's the best reason for trying another. OLIVIA. If it must be so, I submit. LEONT. As we could wish, he comes this way. Now, my dearest Olivia, be resolute. I'll just retire within hearing, to come in at a proper time, either to share your danger, or confirm your victory. [_Exit._ _Enter_ CROAKER. CROAKER. Yes, I must forgive her; and yet not too easily, neither. It will be proper to keep up the decorums of resentment a little, if it be only to impress her with an idea of my authority. OLIVIA. How I tremble to approach him!—Might I presume, sir—If I interrupt you— CROAKER. No, child; where I have an affection, it is not a little thing can interrupt me. Affection gets over little things. OLIVIA. Sir, you're too kind. I'm sensible how ill I deserve this partiality. Yet Heaven knows there is nothing I would not do to gain it. CROAKER. And you have but too well succeeded, you little hussy, you. With those endearing ways of yours, on my conscience, I could be brought to forgive any thing, unless it were a very great offence indeed. OLIVIA. But mine is such an offence—When you know my guilt—Yes, you shall know it, though I feel the greatest pain in the confession. CROAKER. Why then, if it be so very great a pain, you may spare yourself the trouble, for I know every syllable of the matter before you begin. OLIVIA. Indeed! Then I'm undone. CROAKER. Ay, miss, you wanted to steal a match, without letting me know it, did you? But I'm not worth being consulted, I suppose, when there's to be a marriage in my own family. No, I'm to have no hand in the disposal of my own children. No, I'm nobody. I'm to be a mere article of family lumber; a piece of crack'd china to be stuck up in a corner. OLIVIA. Dear sir, nothing but the dread of your authority could induce us to conceal it from you. CROAKER. No, no, my consequence is no more; I'm as little minded as a dead Russian in winter, just stuck up with a pipe in his mouth till there comes a thaw—It goes to my heart to vex her. OLIVIA. I was prepared, sir, for your anger, and despaired of pardon, even while I presumed to ask it. But your severity shall never abate my affection, as my punishment is but justice. CROAKER. And yet you should not despair neither, Livy. We ought to hope all for the best. OLIVIA. And do you permit me to hope, sir? Can I ever expect to be forgiven? But hope has too long deceived me. CROAKER. Why then, child, it shan't deceive you now, for I forgive you this very moment; I forgive you all; and now you are indeed my daughter. OLIVIA. O transport! This kindness overpowers me. CROAKER. I was always against severity to our children. We have been young and giddy ourselves, and we can't expect boys and girls to be old before their time. OLIVIA. What generosity! But can you forget the many falsehoods, the dissimulation——