_Reiss._ Perhaps you imagine, that I have transformed the carpenter's son into a privy counsellor, merely for the sake of having him for a son-in-law? or because you are master of a tolerable good stile? No, you shall serve me, because you are both good enough and bad enough for the purpose. _P. Coun._ But I will not, I will not! I say, with all the resolution, with all the exertion of every one of those good feelings which you would sear and benumb. _Reiss._ Too late. You are so entangled, that you can neither advance nor recede. You are fixed where I have placed you.--Thus much for the present. Now leave me in my native good humour. As to the old lawyer, I can soon manage him, never fear--Get the better of your squeamish conscience, and come to dinner. _P. Coun._ I cannot. _Reiss._ I desire it,--I insist upon it. SCENE VIII. Enter Counsellor SELLING. _Sell._ Miss has sent me up;--dinner is on the table. _Reiss._ Come, gentlemen. _Sell._ You have won the day. _Reiss._ Undoubtedly. _Sell._ I wish you joy. _Reiss._ Now here is the Privy Counsellor, who puzzles his head about some talk concerning the will. _Sell._ Ah, that should not puzzle me. _Reiss._ _Beati possidentes!_ Either, or-- _P. Coun._ Or!---there is the rub. SCENE IV. Enter MASTER CLARENBACH. _Clar._ With your permission, gentlemen, I want to speak with my son. _Reiss._ By yourselves? _Clar._ Hem!--I should think so! _Reiss._ Well, then do not let us wait long. (to the Privy Counsellor, half audible.) You have understood, me sufficiently, I think.--Servant, Master Clarenbach. Come along, Counsellor. [Exeunt. SCENE X. PRIVY COUNSELLOR, MASTER CLARENBACH. _Clar._ I must come to you once more;--have you seen old Wellenberg? _P. Coun._ Yes. _Clar._ Well, what do you say about it? _P. Coun._ I am shocked. _Clar._ Thank God! What do you mean to do? _P. Coun._ Alas! what can I do? _Clar._ Jack, your honour is already in great arrears with our town, and your conscience does not altogether keep a fair day-book. I ask you, in the name of God, what do you mean to do? _P. Coun._ All I can, father! _Clar._ If you are in earnest, come along with me; let us go from hence. _P. Coun._ Why so soon,--and whither? _Clar._ Fly, fly from the brink of destruction. You must not dine here, you must not remain here any longer. You must not marry into this family. _P. Coun._ The girl is my good genius. I cannot leave her. _Clar._ Then her father, that bad genius, will not leave you! Do not struggle between the two. Come along with me; do as you ought; be afraid of no man, confide in God, and hope! You will have the girl at last. Come along with me. _P. Coun._ I wish I could! were I not at once rivetted down here by the demon of evil, and irresistibly bid to stay by the power of virtue!