BARON.
[in anger]. ’Sdeath! are not these reasons enough?—I know no other.
MR. ANHALT.
Now, then, it is my turn to state mine for the advice I have given you. But first, I must presume to ask a few questions.—Did Agatha, through artful insinuation, gain your affection? or did she give you cause to suppose her inconstant?
BARON.
Neither—but for me, she was always virtuous and good.
MR. ANHALT.
Did it cost you trouble and earnest entreaty to make her otherwise?
BARON.
[angrily]. Yes.
MR. ANHALT.
You pledged your honour?
BARON.
[confused]. Yes.
MR. ANHALT.
Called God to witness?
BARON.
[more confused]. Yes.
MR. ANHALT.
The witness you called at that time was the Being who sees you now. What you gave in pledge was your honour, which you must redeem. Therefore thank Heaven that it is in your power to redeem it. By marrying Agatha the ransom’s made: and she brings a dower greater than any princess can bestow—peace to your conscience. If you then esteem the value of this portion, you will not hesitate a moment to exclaim,—Friends, wish me joy, I will marry Agatha.