_Reiss._ And now it is mine; and if thou wilt not rejoice with me-- _Soph._ Excuse me, I cannot. _Reiss._ Then I will call in persons from the street, that they may share my pleasure. (Pauses.) Speak, unnatural child, and rejoice! _Soph._ I am silent, I do not wish to offend you, I love you with all the tenderness of a dutiful child. _Reiss._ Would I had a son that knew how to place a due value on this, to enjoy it, to double it, then it would be worth while! But now, when I wish to enjoy the result of all my plans, and the successes I have met with in all my life, I have your sentimental feelings to encounter; and then I would rather relate my happiness to one of the ever-green pyramids in the garden than to you. _Soph._ O heaven! _Reiss._ And who is to reap the benefit but you, and you only? When I am gone, you may settle annuities upon all the beggars of the country, travel through the rugged mountains, waste my dear wealth in cottages, and scatter hard dollars like pebbles. _Soph._ Give me but a sufficient allowance, restore the remainder to Brunnig's children, and I will thank you on my knees. _Reiss._ Indeed! Aye, if I were to give you the money and the bond, to divide among those brats, it would make a nice anecdote in the newspapers. Zounds! I am apt to think, that, when you come to the possession of all my property, you will scarce do so much as to erect a small monument to the memory of your father. _Soph._ Alas! Brunnig's children would form the fittest groupe of weeping orphans around such a monument. _Reiss._ Ungrateful wretch! is this the return for my parental affection? Was it not through the view of gaining this legacy that I raised a deputy to the rank of a privy counsellor? Who is my wealth to devolve to but you and him? SCENE III. Enter Privy Counsellor CLARENBACH. _Reiss._ There he is! Thanks, my hearty thanks for the dispatch! That is what I call business. That is what I call a specimen of a useful son-in-law.--Now Miss may fix the happy day. She will tell us more about it at dinner, I will step down to the cellar, and take care that we shall have the best it can afford. We will pour liquid gold down our throats to solemnize the acquisition of solid gold. [Exit. SCENE IV. SOPHIA, Privy Counsellor CLARENBACH. Sophia wipes her eyes. _P. Coun._ (after a pause.) Why does my dear Sophia weep? _Soph._ My father is pleased with you. _P. Coun._ I see I am the cause of your grief. _Soph._ Does your conscience tell you so? _P. Coun._ Your tears do. _Soph._ (after a pause.) Well, then, answer my tears. P, Coun. (shrugs up his shoulders.) The dead letter has decided in this business, as it does in many more, where our feelings would decide in a different manner, but dare not. _Soph._ And dare not!--Further--