The merchant laboured all he could to overcome this mingled pride and shame, which he perceived was the only obstacle to his return to duty; but to no purpose, Natura continued obstinate and inflexible, till his father, having no longer patience to keep himself concealed, rushed into the room, and looking on his son with a countenance which, in spite of all the severity he had endeavoured to assume, betrayed only tenderness and grief.--'So, young man,' said he, 'you think it then my place to seek a reconciliation, and are perhaps too stubborn to accept forgiveness, even though I should condescend to offer it.' Natura was so thunderstruck at the appearance of his father, and the manner in which he accosted him, that he was far from being able to speak one word, but threw himself at his feet, with a look which testified nothing but confusion: that action, however, denoting that he had not altogether forgot himself, melted the father's heart; he raised him, and forcing him to sit down in a chair close by him; 'Well, Natura,' said he, 'you have been disobedient to an excess; I wish it were possible for your distresses to have given you a remorse in proportion;--I am still a _father_, if you can be a _son._'--He would have proceeded, but was not able:--the meagre aspect, dejected air, and wretched appearance of a son so dear to him, threw him into a condition which destroyed all the power of maintaining that reserve which he thought necessary to his character. Natura, on the other hand, was so overcome with the unhoped-for gentleness of his behaviour, that he burst into a flood of tears.--Filial gratitude and love, joined with the thoughts of what he had done to deserve a far different treatment, so overwhelmed his heart, that he could express himself no other way than by falling on his knees a second time, and embracing the legs of his father, with a transport, I know not whether to say of grief or joy; continued in that posture for a considerable time, overwhelmed at once with shame, with gratitude, and love:--at length, gaining the power of utterance,--'O sir,' cried he, 'how unworthy am I of your goodness!'--but then recollecting as it were somewhat more; 'yet sure,' pursued he, 'it is not possible you can forgive me all.--I have been guilty of worse than, perhaps, you yet have been informed of:--I am a wretch who have devoted myself to infamy and destruction, and you cannot, nay ought not to forgive me.' The father was indeed very much alarmed at this expression, as fearing it imported his distresses had drove him to be guilty of some crime of which the law takes cognizance.--'I hope,' said he, 'your having signed a contract with an abandoned prostitute, is the worst action of your life?'