for even villany so perfect is perfection! Perfection? No! something is
still wanting to complete that. Where is my mother?

WORM. In the house of correction.

LOUISA (with a smile of despair). Now the measure is full! It is full,
and I am free--released from all duties--all sorrows--all joys! Released
even from Providence! I have nothing more to do with it! (A dreadful
pause.) Have you aught else to communicate? Speak freely--now I can
hear anything with indifference.

WORM. All that has happened you already know.

LOUISA. But not that which is yet to happen! (Another pause, during
which she surveys WORM from head to foot.) Unfortunate man! you
have entered on a melancholy employment, which can never lead you to
happiness. To cause misery to others is sad enough--but to be the
messenger of evil is horrible indeed--to be the first to shriek the
screech-owl's song, to stand by when the bleeding heart trembles upon
the iron shaft of necessity, and the Christian doubts the existence of a
God--Heaven protect me! Wert thou paid a ton of gold for every tear of
anguish which thou must witness, I would not be a wretch like thee! What
is there yet to happen?

WORM. I know not.

LOUISA. You pretend not to know? This light-shunning embassy trembles
at the sound of words, but the spectre betrays itself in your ghastly
visage. What is there yet to happen? You said the duke will inflict
upon him a most exemplary punishment. What call you exemplary?