myself the object of your hate. Happy would it have been for us both had
my purpose succeeded! (He pauses; then proceeds in a gentle and
faltering voice.) Lady, I love!--I love a maid of humble birth--Louisa
Miller is her name, the daughter of a music-master. (LADY MILFORD turns
away pale and greatly agitated.) I know into what an abyss I plunge
myself; but, though prudence bids me conceal my passion, honor overpowers
its precepts. I am the criminal--I first destroyed the golden calm of
Louisa's innocence--I lulled her heart with aspiring hopes, and
surrendered it, like a betrayer, a prey to the wildest of passions. You
will bid me remember my rank--my birth--my father--schemes of
aggrandisement. But in vain--I love! My hopes become more fervent as
the breach widens between nature and the mere conventions of society--
between my resolution and worldly prejudices! We shall see whether love
or interest is victorious. (LADY MILFORD during this has retired to the
extreme end of the apartment, and covers her face with both hands.
FERDINAND approaches her.) Have you aught to answer, lady?

LADY MILFORD (in a tone of intense suffering). Nothing! Nothing! but
that you destroy yourself and me--and, with us yet a third.

FERDINAND. A third?

LADY MILFORD. Never can you marry Louisa; never can you be happy with
me. We shall all be the victims of your father's rashness. I can never
hope to possess the heart of a husband who has been forced to give me his
hand.

FERDINAND. Forced, lady? Forced? And yet given? Will you enforce a
hand without a heart? Will you tear from a maiden a man who is the whole
world to her? Will you tear a maiden from a man who has centered all his