DRAMATIS PERSONE. Deputy CLARENBACH. CLARENBACH, Master Carpenter. FREDERICA, his Daughter. REISSMAN, Aulic Counsellor. SOPHIA, his Daughter. SELLING, Counsellor. GERNAU, Ranger. WELLENBERG, Lawyer. LEWIS, Deputy Clarenbach's Servant. I THE LAWYERS, A DRAMA. ACT I. SCENE I. A plain Tradesman's Room, with old fashioned Furniture. Master CLARENBACH. (Busied with a design.) Clar. O!—there is my design, and I think it is a pretty good one. It will make a substantial building.-When I am gone, people will say, when they look at the pile, "Master Clarenbach was a man that knew what he was about." SCENE II. Enter LEWIS. Lew. Deputy Clarenbach presents his comliments to Master Clarenbach, and sends him fomething. Clar. What? Lew. Deputy Clarenbach presents his compliments, and sends something. B Clar. (takes off his spectacles.) So my son sends me his compliments? So! well,-return him a good morrow from me. What is it he sends?-money! (opens the paper;) for what? he has written nothing in it, a mere blank. Lew. I do not know; I am to have a receipt for it. Clar. Take the money back. Lew. What the deuce! Clar. (rises.) No deuce here! and—take off your hat when you stand in my presence, Mon sieur Lewis. Lew. (takes off his hat reluctantly.) I amClar. The Deputy's footman, and I am the Deputy's father. Lew. Aye, aye; Master Clarenbach, the— Clar. The carpenter, citizen and master, trustee of the hospital, ad Sanctum Mauritium in this town, master in my own house and in my own room; here is the money. I am busy, good bye. (Sits down to his design.) Lew. Very odd. [Exit. Clar. Odd? hem! aye, aye. Odd you are, both the master and the servant. SCENE III. Enter FREDERICA, (with a glass of wine, and a crust of bread on a plate.) Fred. Father, the weather is very rough this morning. Clar. Do think so, my you dear? Fred. I cannot let you go out of the house so; you must take a glass of wine. Clar. You are right, I think; (takes it.) Moreover, I fhall be out a good while to day; (drinks;) perhaps I may not come home to dinner; (drinks;) bring my dinner then to the timber-yard. Fred. With all my heart. Clar. (looking at her.) I do not think you will do it with reluctance. Fred. By no means. I will do it with pleasure. But my brother does not altogether relish it; and, in those little matters, I think we might please him. Clar. (rises displeased.) I say, no! God bless him in the high station he fills! But that cannot be, if ever he should forget what he has been. And as his memory, in that respect, is daily impaired, it is necessary therefore to put him the oftener in mind of it. Fred. Yet I think Clar. He is a Deputy, let him thank God for it! I am a carpenter, thank heaven! You are my good dutiful daughter, that takes care of me, nurses me, and gives me great satisfaction; and for that, I return heaven threefold thanks from the bottom of my heart. (Fred. embraces him. Yes, you are very good! I only find fault with two things; in every other respect you are a nice girl, quite the girl after my own heart. First, you read too much, and then Fred. Dear father, do not I tell you a number of entertaining and instructive things out of the books I read? Has my reading formed me otherwise than you would have me? Clar. Not as yet, if the evil do not come limping at the end! Good God!-Books indeed impart information; that I must own. But since those deep learned works have carried thy brother so high, and, at the same time, so far from us, I think, when I behold the large heap of books in his study, I think I see a finger-post that directs from the heart. Fred. Your pursuits and his are different, father. Clar. In our respective lines, I grant it. If his heart were not a stranger to us from other motives, he would, when his work is done, come and say,Father! you build houses, and I build laws, that the people may live secure in those houses. I have been successful to day in my work, if God fhould prosper it; and how have you succeeded? Then I would talk to him of my good old timber, and complain of the young green wood; he might then tell me, how pleased he is with the old colleagues that fhare his toils, or complain of the young green ones. Thus we might exchange toil and pleasure, complaint and consolation; spend a comfortable hour together, and derive mutual advantage from each other. But he does not choose to do that; and, if his conscience now and then happen to twitch him a little, he sends me money. Money! what is money to me? when have I ever wifhed for more than |