begins to write).

SCENE IX.

LADY MILFORD, an ATTENDANT, SOPHIA, afterwards the MARSHAL,
and then SERVANTS.

SERVANT. Marshal von Kalb is in the ante-chamber, and brings a message
from his highness.

LADY MILFORD (not hearing him in the eagerness of writing). How the
illustrious puppet will stare! The idea is singular enough, I own, the
presuming to astonish his serene numskull. In what confusion will his
court be thrown! The whole country will be in a ferment.

SERVANT and SOPHIA. Marshal von Kalb, my lady!

LADY MILFORD (turning round). Who? the marshal? So much the better!
Such creatures were designed by nature to carry the ass' panniers.

[Exit SERVANT.

SOPHIA (approaching anxiously). If I were not fearful, my lady, that you
would think it presumption. (LADY MILFORD continuing to write eagerly.)
Louisa Miller rushed madly to the hall--you are agitated--you speak to
yourself. (LADY MILFORD continues writing.) I am quite alarmed. What
can have happened? (The MARSHAL enters, making repeated bows at LADY
MILFORD'S back; as she takes no notice of him, he comes nearer, stands
behind her chair, touches the hem of her dress, and imprints a kiss on
it, saying in a tremulous voice.) His serene highness----

LADY MILFORD (while she peruses hastily what she has written). He will
tax me with black ingratitude! "I was poor and forsaken! He raised me
from misery! From misery." Detestable exchange! Annul my bond,
seducer! The blush of my eternal shame repays my debt with interest.

MARSHAL (after endeavoring in vain to catch her eye). Your ladyship
seems somewhat absent. I take the liberty of permitting myself the
boldness (very loud)--his serene highness, my lady, has sent me to
inquire whether you mean to honor this evening's gala with your presence,
or the theatre?

LADY MILFORD (rising, with a laugh). One or the other, sweet sir. In
the meantime take this paper to your duke for his dessert. (To SOPHIA.)
Do you, Sophia, give directions to have my carriage brought to the door
without delay, and call my whole household together in this saloon.

SOPHIA (goes out in great astonishment). Heavens! What do I forebode?
What will this end in?

MARSHAL. You seem excited, my lady!

LADY MILFORD. The greater the chance of my letting you into a little
truth. Rejoice, my Lord Marshal! There is a place vacant at court. A
fine time for panders. (As the MARSHAL throws a look of suspicion upon