Volume 1 / Act 1 — 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 niece, the fair, the happy—Sir, I forget—I came by her desire—the countess having heard of her intention, will not allow of any private interviews, and therefore 'tis Ulrica's wish, that, as tomorrow is the nuptial day, the day which blesses her, but which—(bursts into tears)—I can no more—Spare! spare! and pity me!

Rav. Proceed! for, if I know Ulrica's heart, you are not messenger of any tidings ungracious to yourself.

Ag. Indeed, I know not—She was, as she has ever been, most kind and most compassionate; but to her wish—she begs you will comply with what is here requested—Take it—(giving him a letter)—and the hard office o'er, farewell until tomorrow! And then, no sister's prayers did e'er more pure and fervent flow than mine shall then for yours and your Ulrica's happiness.

Rav. (having opened the letter.) Stay! (reading.) "Shall I accept his hand, whose heart I perceive to be another's? And can I wish him to accept mine, who, from early education, am better suited to a far more humble sphere! No, generous Ravensburg! Remonstrate with your father, and increase the esteem of Ulrica, by wiping away tears, which flow from silent, genuine passion! Hearts such as yours and Agnes's can best reward each other," Exalted woman! I will remonstrate with my father—now, instantly, and come what will, no nuptials shall be solemnized, but those which love shall crown—(taking her hand)—if you refute not what Ulrica writes.

Ag. My lord, 'twere affectation to deny what this our mutual and unequall'd friend has now revealed; but for the rest! if I am worthy of the son's affection, remember, that I owe it to the father; and great, however great the sacrifice, still would I rather meet that son's displeasure, than plant a sting in the protecting breast that warm'd and nourished a forsaken orphan.

Rav. My father will relent! Hark! he comes! the banquet o'er, new revelry succeeds, and now I can partake its joys. Come, the hope that dawns shall lead to lasting sunshine.

Enter the baron's train, and the prince's train.

The prince and baron last, and together.

Prin. (aside to the baron.) That is her history? You have imparted all?

Bar. That—that is Agnes Lindorf's story.

Prin. And none—none know it!

Bar. None—I've kept it secret, even from herself; because, at first the circumstance exciting interest, I fear'd to lose what might supply a daughter's loss; and, since not wishing to increase an orphan's suffering—

Prin. (starting, on seeing Agnes.) Behold again! again it flashes on my mind full confirmation. Take, take her from my sight! Yet, no—that may create suspicion, and Walbourg! Walbourg will, ere long, return. Oh! were he come! for every moment is an age, till I'm secure! [half aside.

Bar. Walbourg! gone! where my liege?

Prin. (angrily.) No matter, Sir—let the dread interval be filled with these your care-destroying sports. Come, strike!

[Prince and baron seat themselves, and the other characters are ranged on each side the stage.

Dance.

In the midst of which a loud knocking is heard, accompanied by trumpets without. All show alarm, except the prince, who expresses secret satisfaction. [Music changes.

Folding doors are thrown open by Walbourg, who enters, and points to a black banner, fixed into the ground, on which is written, in golden letters,

"AGNES LINDORF! APPEAR BEFORE THE FREE KNIGHTS!"

[Agnes stands motionless with terror, then runs wildly about, appealing to the different characters. The prince menaces—all point to the banner, turn away, and exeunt, except Ravensburg, who is following, when Agnes clings to him, and detains him.]

Ag. You! you will not forsake me! Grant, grant me but a look!

Rav. Avoid me! shun me!

Ag. I swear by Him, to whom all crimes are known. I know no more of what I am accused, than does the new born babe! But think, oh think! I am accused by those, whose names strike terror through the world, and who, by solemn and terrific oaths, are bound to execute such dreadful deeds, (Ravensburg trembles violently) that you, whose nature must revolt at such barbarity! you, my kind, only friend! [falling on his shoulder.

Rav. Fly! swift—escape? (passing her across him.) Where? (stopping her.) Whither! who can elude the penetrating eye of their deep-searching vengeance? And if you answer not that awful mandate? All gracious powers! (turning from her)—I am forbidden to advise, nay, even converse with the accus'd! And yet, Agnes! (turning towards her) though my whole heart be with thee—Farewell! farewell! [embracing her.

Enter, immediately, prince Palatine.

Prin. False, perjur'd Ravensburg! (parting them.) Away! and, but that consciousness of guilt prevails, why, traitress? why this coward fear? Tried and aquitted by this high tribunal, your friends shall welcome you with added honour! But if you shall rashly disobey the summons, your death is certain, and you doom those friends—mark that—you doom, perhaps, your dearest friends, to turn assassins, and destroy that life, which, but for selfish and for dastard terror, had been preserved to bless them.

[Agnes eagerly regarding Ravensburg, who shows extreme agitation.]

Ag. I see! it breaks! it bursts upon my mind! and though none know where the free knights meet, all are acquainted with their dreaded forms; and soon, and soon will a minister of vengeance come—(crosses to Ravensburg)—to summon the accused. (Trumpets.) My lord—take courage! I'm no more a coward. (She takes Ravensburg's hand.) Feel—do I tremble? Am I by selfish terror influenced? No, mighty Sir, (to the prince) behold what conscious innocence effects! And see, where sympathy and pity prompts, a woman's spirit emulates your own, (embracing Ravensburg.) Farewell, kind, generous friend! Now, Heaven protect, and guard me!

[Music.—Ravensburg would detain Agnes. The prince prevents him. A free knight appears on the terrace. Agnes, all animation, points to the free knight—also blesses Ravensburg. Ravensburg implores heaven in her favour. Agnes exit rapidly, and Ravensburg is partly persuaded, and partly forced off, by the prince Palatine.