Reiss. For, however pleased I may be with your connection, I could not possibly think of giving my daughter to a man whose father earned his bread as a mechanic.

His

P. Coun. Leave me alone for that. whole mode of life will be changed. Nay, this change has in some measure taken place already.

Reiss. Bravo, bravo!

P. Coun. His mansion

Reiss. Right, right!

P. Coun. His dressReiss. Very necessary. P. Coun. Those pitiful caps Reiss. Oh, nice! Oh! there heavy weight from my mind. chief object, that law-suit

of my sister

you remove a And then the

The will

P. Coun. You cannot lose it. Reiss. I will stick to that, as if rivetted to it with iron.

P. Coun. It speaks in your favour in all its forms.

Reiss. But he is so obstinate in pursuit of the cause, and will

P. Coun. He cannot gain it.

Reiss. I think so. But then he has engaged that old foolish lawyer Wellenberg, thatP. Coun. A fool, and a pedant.

Reiss. True! But then he is such a conscientious fellow; and, besides, you know he is called the champion of the poor and the guar dian of orphans.

P. Coun. I have his opinion in my study. Mere declamation! nothing else. Your answer is sound, legal, and argumentative, and then the testamentary disposition is so plain that it cannot be set aside. If you were inclined to make the plaintiff a present

Reiss. O yes, O yes! notwithstanding I am very economical; for all that I acquire is solely intended for my child, and when it shall please heaven to call me, it will devolve to you, my dear Sir.

P. Coun. Very kind;-but

Enter LEWIS,

Lew. The widow Rieder

P. Coun. Some other time.

Lew. And Counsellor Wellenberg

P. Coun. The day after to-morrow, at two o'clock.

Lew. Then there is old Schwartz

now.

P. Coun. I cannot be troubled with him [Exit Lewis. Reiss. Always plagued, always tormented.— P. Coun. Oh! there is no end of it!

Reiss. Why! But wealth and honours. are very welcome things too. But chiefly mind wealth; wealth is the word. High stations are exposed to storms, like lofty trees in a forest. But, if you have wealth, then come what will. A trunk filled with good bonds is soon packed up. The rest of your moveables may be left to the commissaries, just

as you would throw a few bones to the dogs; then retire and go. I am your servant. (Going.) [Privy Counsellor attends him to the door. Reiss. No ceremony; the morning-hour yields a hundred per cent. [Exit.

SCENE II.

PRIVY COUNSELLOR, LEWIS, MASTER

CLARENBACH,

Lew. I will first see.

Clar. Why, I heard my son's voice!—
P. Coun. Ah! is it my father?-

Clar. Yes! (reaches him his hand.) God bless you, Jack!

P. Coun. (to Lewis.) Leave us to ourselves. [Lewis exit, Clar. Halloo!--I say, Monsieur, stop a little, stay a little!-I mean to speak ill of you, Lew. So?

P. Coun. How so?

Clar. Only think, dear Jack, all the people you have refused to see, this fellow has been snarling at. (To Lewis.) You must know those people in the hall are all as good as myself, and my son has been what I am, and in short we are all-men. Whilst the people know that my son has not forgot that his rank and titles are pure gold, they will pass at the highest course of exchange; but, as soon as they discover he has forgot what he has been, then his rank and titles will appear counterfeit. (To the Privy Counsellor.) They are all in the hall yet, except the old lawyer, who has busi

ness elsewhere; I have told them Monsieur Lewis had behaved very unmannerly, that I would let you know, and that you would come out to them.

P. Coun. But

Clar. And that you may remain in currency and value, be so good, Jack, and go to them. [Privy Coun. after a pause, leaves the room.

SCENE III.

MASTER CLARENBACH, LEWIS.

Lew. I do not understand Master Clarenbach's behaviour to me.

Clar. I dare say, you do not. But, do you see, I think you ought to mend, or my son ought to send you about your business. To hear people, to say either yes or no, is the least my son can do. If you should attempt to hinder him from doing so, you are a rogue.

Lew. There is such constant intrusion. Clar. Hem! and a great deal of distress too, [Exit Lewis.

and

SCENE IV.

Enter PRIVY COUNSELLOR.

P. Coun. Well, what should it be? Petitions, memorials, poverty, and faint hopes of relief.

Clar. Why, if you cannot relieve, mercy on

us!

P. Coun. They are repeated so often, and I have so much business

Clar. Now that you have been made a Privy

Counsellor, I fear it will still be worse! Well, heaven grant you health, and may you act as you ought, and all may be well yet.

P. Čoun. Why, father, did you return the money I sent?

Clar. Because, thank God! I do not want it. What is the use of having more than is necessary, to supply the wants of life?—I think have more.

you

P. Coun. There is no great harm in that. Clar. But I think there is! People will have strange ideas, and do strange things, when they have too much. If I must tell you my mind, son, I am not altogether pleased to see you raised so high of a sudden, Our plain citizens are not altogether satisfied with you and your elevation. They think the other gentlemen shove you near the fire to get the roasted chesnuts out of the coals for themselves, and that you are a good cat's paw. Such, for instance, is that bequest to old Counsellor Reissman.

P. Coun. Pray, tell me, father, what induces you to oppose that will, which is legal, though I must own it bears hard on the children.

Clar. Jack, you know your father long, though for some time since you have made a stranger of yourself.-What would you think of me, if I had not commenced the suit?

P. Coun. The claim rests on a will.

Clar. Which has been obtained, by the old Counsellor, by undue influence; is not that your opinion?

P. Coun. Can that be proved?-