I had ever urged the match. I little thought,
Dear girl, ’twas sorrow that she dared not tell me
Her joy.
D. (aside). Her joy! no doubt! Here’s a fine father!
What doth he wish? Ah, doubly have I been fooled.
How plain ’tis now to see. The only one
I have never once suspected; the only one
It could have been. And Frederick must have told her
My love of him. All I would have kept secret
And thought was hid, hath been as open as day: