SONG—Ulrica.
I.
Sure woman's to be pitied
Whenever she's committed,
For being fond and gay;
And those who cry out "shame!"
Are very much to blame—
That's all I say.
II.
I never could discover
Why list'ning to a lover
Throughout the live-long day,
Should be miscall'd offence.
It is not common sense—
That's all I say.
III.
But though the old and haughty
Pretend 'tis very naughty,
They think a different way;
For this, I know, is true,
They do as others do—
That's all I say.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.—A vaulted cavern belonging to the free knights—nearly in the centre a large brazen door, in the archway a practicable parapet, and occasional apertures in the broken fragments of the rock.
Enter Everard, hastily through the doorway.
Ever. This, this the far-fam'd court so long extolled for fair investigation? Poor Agnes Lindorf! unheard thou art condemned, prejudged, thy judges will decree thee guilty, and this, thy trial, is no more than the mere mockery of justice! But I've held converse with the young lord Ravensburg, and if he follow an old soldier's counsel, there may be still some hope, that the accused shall vanquish the accuser.