MILLER. How, baron, how? All that enormous purse? What can you be thinking of? FERDINAND. Upon my debt! There! (Throws a heavy purse on the table; some gold drops out.) I cannot hold the dross to eternity. MILLER (astonished). Mercy on us! what is this? The sound was not of silver! (Goes to the table and cries out in astonishment.) In heaven's name, baron, what means this? What are you about? You must be out of your mind! (Clasping his hands.) There it lies! or I am bewitched. 'Tis damnable! I feel it now; the beauteous, shining, glorious heap of gold! No, Satan, thou shalt not catch my soul with this! FERDINAND. Have you drunk old wine, or new, Miller? MILLER (violently). Death and furies! Look yourself, then. It is gold! FERDINAND. And what of that? MILLER. Let me implore you, baron! In the name of all the saints in heaven, I entreat you! It is gold! FERDINAND. An extraordinary thing, it must be admitted. MILLER (after a pause; addressing him with emotion). Noble sir, I am a plain, straightforward man--do you wish to tempt me to some piece of knavery?--for, heaven knows, that so much gold cannot be got honestly! FERDINAND (moved). Make yourself quite easy, dear Miller! You have well earned the money. God forbid that I should use it to the corruption of your conscience! MILLER (jumping about like a madman). It is mine, then! Mine indeed! Mine with the knowledge and consent of God! (Hastening to the door.) Daughter, wife, hurrah, come hither! (Returning.) But, for heaven's sake, how have I all at once deserved this awful treasure? How am I to earn it? How repay it, eh? FERDINAND. Not by your music lessons, Miller! With this gold do I pay you for (stops suddenly, and shudders)--I pay you--(after a pause, with emotion)--for my three months' unhappy dream of your daughter! MILLER (taking his hand and pressing it affectionately). Most gracious sir! were you some poor and low-born citizen, and my daughter refused your love, I would pierce her heart with my own hands. (Returning to the gold in a sorrowful tone.) But then I shall have all, and you nothing-- and I should have to give up all this glorious heap again, eh? FERDINAND. Let not that thought distress you, friend. I am about to quit this country, and in that to which I am journeying such coin is not current. MILLER (still fixing his eyes in transport on the money). Mine, then, it remains? Mine? Yet it grieves me that you are going to leave us. Only just wait a little and you shall see how I'll come out! I'll hold up my head with the best of them. (Puts on his hat with an air, and struts up and down the room.) I'll give my lessons in the great concert-room, and won't I smoke away at the best puyke varinas--and, when you catch me again fiddling at the penny-hop, may the devil take me! FERDINAND. Stay, Miller! Be silent, and gather up your gold. (Mysteriously.) Keep silence only for this one evening, and do me the favor henceforward to give no more music lessons.