KARL (aside.)
The king here? Then I have one friend at least on whom I may rely. (To KING.)
Shall I—may I speak freely?
KING. The king has no authority now. (Pointing to the jury-box.) There are the sovereigns of the people, and to them you must appeal. (Aside.) What a situation for a monarch!
ALBERT (to KARL.)
You know yon Saxon maid and the Count Laniska?
KARL.
I do, and HATE the count!
ALBERT.
Wherefore?
KARL. He has thwarted my designs!—No, no, I mean not THAT! I mean that I hate him because he plotted treason against the king, and wrote "Tyrant" upon the vase.
ALBERT.
Did he write it?
KARL.
He did—these eyes beheld him.
COUNT (aside.)
The perjured caitiff!
SOPHIA.
O Heaven, have mercy upon us!