Bar. In my—in my chateau? I've seen—I know count Roland—and such a guest I so rejoice to welcome. (going hastily towards the door; Oliver re-enters meeting him.)
Ol. And I rejoice! and my lady, my young master, and Agnes may rejoice! for the priest, quite worn out with waiting for one couple, is now marrying another—is marrying the lady Ulrica to your nephew! He! he! he!
Bar. (to countess.) Marrying Ulrica to your nephew.
Count. To my nephew, sir—to a man as far above the Ravensburgs in rank, as in accomplishments!
Ul. (throwing open the window) aunt! we're married aunt!
Count. Transporting sight! There! (to the baron.) Married to her cousin, great count Roland!
Chris. (putting his head out of the window.) No, to me! to cousin Christopher! who said, all along, that aunt would be as kind to poor, as rich relations! and who on the baron's giving him his choice, this morning walked out of the chateau; but, now, having sent the promised express, and expecting all his Franconia cousins, says, "in," till the honey-moon's over!
[Shutting the window immediately, and he and Ulrica disappear.
Bar. There he is again! there's the nephew of the countess Roland!
Count. 'Tis false! and I'll be instantly reveng'd!