"Oh, God," the Commissionsrath cried, "another bankruptcy in Hamburg, I suppose, or in Bremen, or London, to ruin me out and out! That was all that was wanted. Oh, I'm a ruined man!" "No," the Goldsmith said, "it's an affair of a different kind altogether; you say that you won't allow young Edmund Lehsen to marry Albertine, do you not?" "What's the good of talking about such a piece of absurdity?" the Commissionsrath replied. "I to give my daughter to this beggar of a penciller." "Well," said the Goldsmith, "he has painted a couple of magnificent portraits of you and her." "Oh, oh," cried Bosswinkel, "a fine piece of business it would be to hand over my daughter for a couple of daubs on canvas; I've sent the trash back to him." "If you don't let Edmund have your daughter," the Goldsmith continued, "he will have his revenge." "Pretty story!" answered Bosswinkel. "What revenge is this little bit of a beggar, who dribbles paints on to canvas, and hasn't a farthing to bless himself with, going to take upon Commissionsrath Melchior Bosswinkel, I should like to know?" "I'll tell you that in a moment," said the Goldsmith. "Edmund is going to alter your portrait in a way which you thoroughly deserve. The kindly, smiling face he is going to turn into a sour, grumpy one, with lowering brow, bleary eyes, and hanging lips. He will deepen the wrinkles on the brow and cheeks, and he won't omit to indicate, in proper colour, those grey hairs which the powder is intended to hide. Before you, instead of the pleasant news about the lottery prize, he will write, very legibly, the most unpleasant purport of the letter which came to you the day before yesterday, telling you that Campbell and Co. of London had stopped payment, addressed on the envelope to the 'Bankrupt Commissionsrath,' &c., &c. From the torn pockets of your waistcoat he will show ducats, thalers, and treasury bills falling, to indicate the losses you have had, and this picture will be put in the window of the picture dealer next door to the bank in Hunter Street." "The demon, the blackguard," the Commissionsrath cried; "he shan't do that, I'll send for the police, I'll appeal to the courts for an interim interdict!" The Goldsmith said, with much tranquillity, "As soon as even fifty people have seen this picture, that is to say, after it has been in the window for a brief quarter of an hour, the tale will be all over the town, with every description of addition and exaggeration. Every thing in the least degree ridiculous which has ever been said about you, or is being said now, will be brought up again, dressed in fresh and more brilliant colours. Every one you meet will laugh in your face, and, what is the worst of all, everybody will talk about your losses in the Campbell bankruptcy, so your credit will be gone." "Oh, Lord," said Bosswinkel, "but he must let me have the picture back, the scoundrel? Ay; that he must, the first thing in the morning."