Plague take you! 'Tis the girl must know you. What an old crabstick like me can see in you is just the very last thing that a dainty young girl wants. I'll tell you to a hair if you're the man for an orchestra--but a woman's heart is far too deep for a music-master. And then, to be frank with you--you know I'm a blunt, straightforward fellow--you'll not give thank 'ye for my advice. I'll persuade my daughter to no one--But from you, Mr. Sec--I would dissuade her! Hear me out. A lover, who calls upon the father for help--with permission--is not worth a pinch of snuff. If he has anything in him, he'll be ashamed to take the old-fashioned way of making his deserts known to his sweetheart. If he hasn't the courage, why, he's a milksop, and no Louisas were born for the like of him. No! He must carry on his commerce with the daughter behind the father's back. He must manage so to win her heart, that she would rather wish both father and mother at Old Harry than give him up--or that she come herself, fall at the father's feet, and implore either for death on the rack, or the only one of her heart. -- That's the fellow for me! That I call love! And he who can't bring matters to that pitch with a petticoat may--stick the goose feather in his cap.
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