Prince. Delightful! exquisite! (To Ravensburg who looks dejected.) Nay, Ravensburg, the die is cast, the solemn oath is sworn, and should your altered looks create the least suspicion of what's past, beware! beware! for 'tis a secret that was ne'er divulged—not e'en your chosen partner must suspect that you're invested with a free knight's rank.
Rav. 'Tis sworn—'tis secret.
Baron (advancing with all respect towards the prince). My liege, this honour to a poor old simple baron——
Prince. Sir, you've a title that surpasses pedigree. You are the father of the gallant Ravensburg; and since he comes to claim the soldier's brightest, best reward, fair woman's love, I trust to find you have selected one who richly merits such an envied prize.
Baron (introducing Ulrica.) This is the lady, your highness; and she not only boasts great rank, and, as you see great beauty; but she has nothing of what destroyed my matrimonial happiness—no distant relations, no poor cousins, nephews, nieces, and grandchildren, who, on a rich man marrying into a family, actually treat him as private property, and go on getting more cousins.
Prince (to Ravensburg.) She seems as artless as if trained in humble unsophisticated life; and I prognosticate, will yield that calm content which I, alas! can never hope to taste—never!—Come let us in, and on tomorrow be the nuptials solemnized. (Ravensburg appeals.)
Enter Agnes.
Agnes. Madam—the——(countess stops her.)
Prince. Ay, Ravensburg, tomorrow; for, harassed as we are by foul conspiracy, our stay's precarious; and 'till we're summon'd to the scene of danger, let loud festivity and outward show dismiss our inward grief.
Ravens. My liege, may I suggest——