l resound.
The slipper be hid--the stocking let fall,
And rare blindman's-buff shall keep up the ball;
Whilst the merry spinette, and the sweet tambourine,
Shall heighten and perfect the gay festive scene.
Such mirth and such rapture never were known,
I'm surprised that so long you will tarry;
I prithee, Ulrica--prithee, come down;
For the sport of all sports is--to marry.

[_Exit into the chateau._

SCENE III.--_A splendid gothic hall in the_ baron's _chateau. Large
folding doors in the centre. Two state chairs are brought on by two of
the_ baron's _servants._

_Enter_ Ravensburg.

_Ravens._ Today, to swear the dire terrific oath, "and on tomorrow be
the nuptials solemnized." In all--in all--must Ravensburg be
sacrificed?--He must--his father has committed him! pledged by his
promise to accept the fair Ulrica s hand, shall I, perchance, destroy
her prospects and her hopes, by basely now retracting! No--though love
for Agnes occupies my breast, still is there room for honourable
feeling! and be the conflict great as was the last, that feeling shall
prevail! This hand shall be Ulrica's--unless--there, there's my hope!
Now, at the banquet, she besought a private interview; and whilst the
festive scene engages all, I've stolen forth to give her here the
meeting. What, what would she impart?--And why delay? Oh, were her
tidings welcome, she would not thus withhold them.

_Enter_ Agnes, _hastily, not seeing_ Ravensburg.

_Agnes._ I cannot comprehend! the prince to gaze on me with such
emotion! wildly exclaim, "the sight of her is hateful!" and, with the
baron, leave the banquet, to be told the whole of my sad history--'Tis
well! I shall not suffer by the truth; for, as I guess, mine, is a story
to excite more of compassion than resentment.

_Ravens._ Agnes! speak--what of the Prince?

_Agnes._ Nothing, my lord; he would know my story, would be told that I,
an infant, friendless, fatherless, was nursed and cherished by the baron
Ravensburg, who, like the rest, of late has met me with such altered
looks!--but 'tis of late!--for years he called me his adopted child; and
you, my benefactor's son, bear witness, I banish from my mind the
present change, and dwell with gratitude on past affection.

_Rav._ 'Tis his new friend, this artful, envious countess! 'Till she
became your foe--

_Ag._ I know: and how have I offended? Still I've endeavour'd to obey
and please her, and her ni