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ARDEN.

I know thee well: thou art a generous boy; thou art a noble boy; but what a father am I? I have blasted thy fair promise, freshly springing plant! I have blighted thee with disgrace!

YOUNG ARDEN.

Say not so, my dear father! what ruin is there to him who has a sound mind and a sound body left, and is willing to be a poor man, since Heaven pleases not that he should be a rich one? And for disgrace, I shall think it no disgrace to be the son of an unfortunate father, knowing that he is only unfortunate. Look not on me then with such anguish! You will be able to vindicate your character to the world. (Arden shakes his head.) Nay, and if all the world regard you as guilty, I will believe you to be innocent.

ARDEN.

Oh, oh, oh! This is misery indeed.

YOUNG ARDEN.

Why that terrible groan, dear father?

ARDEN.

Thou wringest my heart, my son!—Little dost thou know—— but thou shalt know it. I have kept thy mother in ignorance, but I will