ARG. (_going to whip her_). Come, come.

LOU. Ah! papa, you have hurt me; I am dead! (_She feigns to be
dead._)

ARG. How, now! What does this mean? Louison! Louison! Ah! heaven!
Louison! My child! Ah! wretched father! My poor child is dead! What
have I done? Ah! villainous rod! A curse on the rod! Ah! my poor
child! My dear little Louison!

LOU. Come, come, dear papa; don't weep so. I am not quite dead yet.

ARG. Just see the cunning little wench. Well! I forgive you this once,
but you must tell me everything.

LOU. Oh yes, dear papa.

ARG. Be sure you take great care, for here is my little finger that
knows everything, and it will tell me if you don't speak the truth.

LOU. But, papa, you won't tell sister that I told you.

ARG. No, no.

LOU. (_after having listened to see if any one can hear_). Papa,
a young man came into sister's room while I was there.

ARG. Well?

LOU. I asked him what he wanted; he said that he was her music-master.