BUTLER.
[gives the key]. And there’s my verses—[taking them from his pocket] Carry them with you, they may comfort him as much as the wine. [She throws them down. [Exit Amelia.
BUTLER.
[in amazement]. Not take them! Refuse to take them—[he lifts them from the floor with the utmost respect]—
“I must have made an elegy,
And not this fine narration.” [Exit.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
A Prison in one of the Towers of the Castle. FREDERICK [alone].
FREDERICK.
How a few moments destroy the happiness of man! When I, this morning, set out from my inn, and saw the sun rise, I sung with joy.—Flattered with the hope of seeing my mother, I formed a scheme how I would with joy surprize her. But, farewell all pleasant prospects—I return to my native country, and the first object I behold, is my dying parent; my first lodging, a prison; and my next walk will perhaps be—oh, merciful providence! have I deserved all this?
Enter AMELIA with a small basket covered with a napkin.—She speaks to someone without.
AMELIA.
Wait there, Francis, I shall soon be back.
FREDERICK.
[hearing the door open, and turning around]. Who’s there?