Suddenly, however, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and fearing to be discovered in her borrowed finery, she sprang into an adjoining room, just as the intruder entered the boudoir.
The newcomer was a foppish youth, named Frederick, nephew to Baron Rosenberg, who, wishing to pose as an admirer of the fascinating Filina, had now come to pay his court, expecting to find her alone; but no sooner had he entered the room than he was followed by Wilhelm, who had returned to speak with Mignon, whom he was about to send back to the town at the request of Filina.
Recognising in Frederick a young gallant whom he had seen before in the town with the pretty actress, Wilhelm demanded to be told his business; and Frederick, knowing the handsome student to be his most formidable rival, instantly provoked a quarrel with him, and furiously drew his sword.
Wilhelm, to humour the youth, who was little more than a boy, and whose attempted gallantry amused him, playfully drew his sword also; but at this moment, Mignon rushed from the inner chamber, and flung herself between them.
Quickly seeing that a duel had never been seriously intended—Frederick having already sheathed his sword in evident relief—Mignon, suddenly remembering her borrowed plumes, began to make a shamefaced apology for her folly; but Wilhelm gently took her aside, and told her that they must now part, since he had quite decided to send her back to the town.
Filina, who had followed her admirer into the room, mockingly added that since the gipsy maid had taken a fancy to the dress she had adorned herself with, she might keep it; but Mignon, stung by the laughing scorn of her rival, and rendered desperate by Wilhelm's decision, furiously tore the gauzy robe to ribbons, and rushed away in a tempest of tears and angry feelings.
Wilhelm, astonished at this outburst of jealousy on the part of Mignon—whom until now he had regarded as a child—suddenly felt an awakened interest in her, and began to wonder at the depth of passion she had betrayed; but as the evening fête was now about to commence, he departed to witness the performance.
The play chosen for representation that night was A Midsummer Night's Dream; and Filina, in the character of "Titania," won golden opinions from one and all. In her dainty fairy garments she bewitched the hearts of her audience by her charming acting and fascinating coquetry, and the old castle walls rang with the loud bursts of applause that were constantly accorded to the lovely actress.
Meanwhile poor Mignon, having passionately torn off her borrowed finery, and donned her own old gipsy garments once more, had flown from the castle, and made her way to the bank of a lonely lake in the grounds; and here, overcome by the grief of her hopeless love, and rendered frantic by the bursts of applause in praise of Filina that ever and anon reached her, she was just about to throw herself into the water, when she suddenly heard the sad, yet entrancing sounds of a harp played close at hand.
Turning round, she beheld Lothario the Harper, who had been hovering in the castle grounds all evening; and thus saved from her terrible resolve by his timely appearance, the unhappy girl calmed herself, and poured forth the whole story of her grief into the sympathising ears of the old man.