call the slanderer infamous or severe? the accomplice or the divulger? the public avenger or the tempter? Does he arrest or precipitate our fall? wound through taste or duty? and when he condemns, is it from justice or from spite? Perhaps both, Don Julian. Who can say? though time, occasion, and facts may show.
D. Julian. See here, Ernest, I don't understand an iota of all this philosophising. I presume 'tis on such nonsense you waste your intelligence. But I don't want you to be vexed or worried. It's true—you really wish for austere independence, to stand alone at a post of honour?
Ernest. Don Julian!
D. Julian. Answer me.
Ernest. [Joyously]. Yes.
D. Julian. Then count it gained. At this very moment I have no secretary. I am expecting one from London. But nobody would suit me better than a certain young fool, who is enamoured of poverty. [Speaks in pleasant reproach.] His work and salary will, of course, be settled as any one else's, though he be a son to one who cherishes him as such.
Ernest. Don Julian!
D. Julian. [Affecting comical severity.] Remember, I am an exacting business man, and I have not the habit of giving my money away for nothing. I intend to get as much as possible out of you, and work you hard. In my house the bread of just labour alone is consumed. By the clock, ten hours, starting at daybreak, and when I choose to be severe, you will see that Severo himself is no match for me. So, before the world you pose as the victim of my selfishness … but in private, dear boy, ever the same, the centre of my dearest affections. [Unable to maintain former tone, Don Julian breaks off, and holds his hand out to Ernest.]
23
