The retreat of a solitary old man is no place for such an one as she.

I beseech you, remove her to a more congenial home.

She is well fitted for her trade; her mother was a harlot before her!' He laughed scornfully, and pointed, as he spoke, to the figure of the unhappy girl kneeling with outstretched arms at his feet.
'Father, father!' she cried, in accents bereft of their native softness and melody, 'have you forgotten me ?' 'I know you not!' he replied, thrusting her from him.

'Return to his bosom; you shall never more be pressed to mine.

Go to his palace; my house is yours no longer! You are his harlot, not my daughter! I command you--go!' As he advanced towards her with fierce glance and threatening demeanour, she suddenly rose up.