SCENE II.
Enter Sophia.
Soph. You have ordered--
Reiss. I congratulate you, my dear daughter, on your approaching nuptials with the Privy Counsellor. The suit is won; the bequest is confirmed; the money is mine; Victoria!
Soph. (coldly.) So?
Reiss. Yes, truly! Well, what does my dear child say?
Soph. You have carried off the prize.
Reiss. Yes! that is what I have just said.
Soph. Then you have attained your wish.
Reiss. Attained your wish! Is that a reply, when 10,000 pounds have fallen to my lot? Is that the behaviour of a daughter to her father on so happy an occasion.
Soph. Dear father, will not you permit me to reflect a little on those that have lost that immense sum.
Reiss. They are entire strangers to us both, no way related to us.
Soph. The legacy was left by a stranger too.
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?