ALBERT.
Think me that one, and trust me.
SOPHIA. I will—for there's a cherub nestling in my heart which whispers, "You are here to save me!" (ALBERT leads her to her task, which she resumes in great dejection of spirits.)
WEDGEWOOD (to KARL.)
Is that poor girl often thus?
KARL.
She sits as you see her, like one stupefied, half the day.
WEDGEWOOD.
The cause of this—if it is convenient?
KARL. She has fallen to the lot of a soldier (glancing at SOPHIA)—who swears, if she delays another day to MARRY HIM, that he will complain to the king.
COUNT (turning furiously upon KARL.)
Wretch! (seizes him.)
KARL (throwing him off.)
This insult will cost you dear! Your scorn for the king's commands—
COUNT (scornfully.)
I had forgotten. (Releases him.) You are a mere instrument in the hands of a tyrant!
KARL (aside.)
That word again!—