Thekla. What then?
Countess. That you're the daughter of the Prince-Duke Friedland. [10]
Thekla. Well—and what farther?
Countess. What? a pretty question!
Thekla. He was born that which we have but become.
He's of an ancient Lombard family,
Son of a reigning princess.
Countess. Are you dreaming?
Talking in sleep? An excellent jest, forsooth! [15]
We shall no doubt right courteously entreat him
To honour with his hand the richest heiress
In Europe.
Thekla. That will not be necessary.
Countess. Methinks 'twere well though not to run the hazard.
Thekla. His father loves him, Count Octavio [20]
Will interpose no difficulty——