KARL. And are free men or free women never indisposed?—or do you Englishmen blame your king whenever any of his subjects turn pale? The woman at whom you are looking is evidently ill.
WEDGEWODD. The fie upon your inhumanity for making a poor, sick girl work when she seems scarcely able to hold up her head! (Aside.) I don't half like that fellow. Villainously odd.
ALBERT (to SOPHIA.) My poor girl, what is the matter with you. The overseer says that, since you came here, you have done nothing worthy of your pencil. Yet this charming piece (pointing to an ornament on her painting)—which was brought from Saxony is of your design—is it not?
SOPHIA.
Yes, sir, it was my misfortune to paint it. If the king had never seen or liked it,
I should now be—
ALBERT.
In Saxony; but forget that country, and you may be happy in this.
SOPHIA. I can not forget it!—I can not forget everybody that I ever loved. Ask not a Saxon woman to forget her country!
ALBERT.
Whom do you love in Saxony now?
SOPHIA. Whom do I NOT love in Saxony? I have a brother there, whom I have not seen since childhood. He was at college when I was carried off from the cottage in which we both were born. He is ignorant of my fate. (She regards ALBERT with great attention, and examines his features minutely.)
ALBERT.
Why do you gaze upon me so intently?
SOPHIA. I know not why, sir; but you seemed even now a dear heart-cherished one, whom I have wished for long and anxiously.