Count. Show me in, Sir; and instead of chattering about my pretended nephew Christopher, talk of my real nephew, count Roland! who, though to me a stranger, is none to the lady Ulrica, as you call her. (Horns without.) Hark! he comes! count Roland comes! and, as I thought—see! towards Ulrica's residence! to sigh and moan under his true-love's window!—Now for it. I'll just step in, and give further orders for pursuing this sham nephew, Christopher; and then, if I don't match old baron Ravensburg, and his capricious son, say I'm no match-maker.
Exit into the chateau, preceded by Oliver.
Enter count Roland and 1st Falconer.
Count. Behold the beauties of this far-fam'd spot, and foremost to delight the traveller's eye, yon venerable Abbey! founded by him whose laurels shall for ever bloom.
1st. Falc. And see, my lord, yonder is the marquis Alberti's chateau.
Count. Happy Alberti! who having brav'd the perils of the ocean, now finds a haven in his faithful Ella's love. Oh! I shall ne'er forget the day they parted, nor that tempestuous night, when many a shipwreck'd mariner was lost.
SONG—Count.
I.
Says Ella to her love, "remember
Though doom'd to part, you constant view
That moon, which rises in such splendour,
I too, will look, and think of you.
Anxious Ella shall not sleep
Whilst her sailor braves the deep."
II.