WIFE. Yes, I remember when he fell in love with poor Agatha, Friburg"s daughter: what a piece of work that was--It did not do him much credit. That was a wicked thing.
COTTAGER. Have done--no more of this--It is not well to stir up old grievances.
WIFE. Why, you said I might speak ill of the living. "Tis very hard indeed, if one must not speak ill of one"s neighbours, dead, nor alive.
COTTAGER. Who knows whether he was the father of Agatha"s child? She never said he was.
WIFE. n.o.body but him--that I am sure--I would lay a wager--no, no husband--you must not take his part--it was very wicked! Who knows what is now become of that poor creature? She has not been heard of this many a year. May be she is starving for hunger. Her father might have lived longer too, if that misfortune had not happened.
[Agatha faints.]
COTTAGER. See here! Help! She is fainting--take hold!
WIFE. Oh, poor woman!
COTTAGER. Let us take her into the next room.
WIFE. Oh poor woman!--I am afraid she will not live. Come, chear up, chear up.--You are with those who feel for you. [They lead her off.]
========== SCENE II. An apartment in the Castle.
A table spread for breakfast--Several servants in livery disposing the equipage--BARON WILDENHAIM enters, attended by a GENTLEMAN in waiting.
BARON. Has not Count Ca.s.sel left his chamber yet?
GENTLEMAN. No, my lord, he has but now rung for his valet.
BARON. The whole castle smells of his perfumery. Go, call my daughter hither. [Exit Gentleman.] And am I after all to have an ape for a son-in-law? No, I shall not be in a hurry--I love my daughter too well. We must be better acquainted before I give her to him. I shall not sacrifice my Amelia to the will of others, as I myself was sacrificed. The poor girl might, in thoughtlessness, say yes, and afterwards be miserable. What a pity she is not a boy! The name of Wildenhaim will die with me. My fine estates, my good peasants, all will fall into the hands of strangers. Oh! why was not my Amelia a boy?
Enter AMELIA--[She kisses the Baron"s hand.]
AMELIA. Good morning, dear my lord.
BARON. Good morning, Amelia. Have you slept well?
AMELIA. Oh! yes, papa. I always sleep well.
BARON. Not a little restless last night?
AMELIA. No.
BARON. Amelia, you know you have a father who loves you, and I believe you know you have a suitor who is come to ask permission to love you.
Tell me candidly how you like Count Ca.s.sel?
AMELIA. Very well.
BARON. Do not you blush when I talk of him?
AMELIA. No.
BARON. No--I am sorry for that. aside] Have you dreamt of him?
AMELIA. No.
BARON. Have you not dreamt at all to-night?
AMELIA. Oh yes--I have dreamt of our chaplain, Mr. Anhalt.
BARON. Ah ha! As if he stood before you and the Count to ask for the ring.
AMELIA. No: not that--I dreamt we were all still in France, and he, my tutor, just going to take his leave of us for ever--I "woke with the fright, and found my eyes full of tears.
BARON. Psha! I want to know if you can love the Count. You saw him at the last ball we were at in France: when he capered round you; when he danced minuets; when he----. But I cannot say what his conversation was.
AMELIA. Nor I either--I do not remember a syllable of it.
BARON. No? Then I do not think you like him.
AMELIA. I believe not.
BARON. But I think it proper to acquaint you he is rich, and of great consequence: rich and of consequence; do you hear?
AMELIA. Yes, dear papa. But my tutor has always told me that birth and fortune are inconsiderable things, and cannot give happiness.
BARON. There he is right--But of it happens that birth and fortune are joined with sense and virtue ----
AMELIA. But is it so with Count Ca.s.sel?
BARON. Hem! Hem! Aside.] I will ask you a few questions on this subject; but be sure to answer me honestly--Speak truth.
AMELIA. I never told an untruth in my life.
BARON. Nor ever _conceal_ the truth from me, I command you.
AMELIA. [Earnestly.] Indeed, my lord, I never will.
BARON. I take you at your word--And now reply to me truly--Do you like to hear the Count spoken of?
AMELIA. Good, or bad?
BARON. Good. Good.
AMELIA. Oh yes; I like to here good of every body.
BARON. But do not you feel a little fluttered when he is talked of?
AMELIA. No. [shaking her head.]