of a man, whoſe head and heart are good for nothing?
Baron.
Birth and fortune. Yet, if I thought my daughter abſolutely diſliked him, or that ſhe loved another, I would not thwart a firſt affection;—no, for the world, I would not. [ſighing.] But that her affections are already beſtowed, is not probable.
Anhalt.
Are you of opinion that ſhe will never fall in love?
Baron.
Oh! no. I am of opinion that no woman ever arrived at the age of twenty without that misfortune.—But this is another ſubject.—Go to Amelia—explain to her the duties of a wife and of a mother.—If ſhe comprehends them, as ſhe ought, then aſk her if ſhe thinks ſhe could fulfil thoſe duties, as the wife of Count Caſſel.
Anhalt.
I will.—But—I—Miſs Wildenhaim—[confuſed. I—I ſhall—I—I ſhall obey your commands.
Baron.
Do ſo. [gives a deep ſigh. Ah! ſo far this weight is removed; but there lies ſtill a heavier next my heart.—You underſtand me.—How is it, Mr. Anhalt? Have you not yet been able to make any diſcoveries on that unfortunate ſubject?
Anhalt.
I have taken infinite pains; but in vain. No ſuch perſon is to be found.
Baron.
Believe me, this burthen preſſes on my thoughts ſo much, that many nights I go without ſleep. A man is ſometimes tempted to commit ſuch depra-
