Despairing lover appears in the background, remarkable principally for his spangled dress and dirty tights, at sight of whom the defiant maid immediately changes her tune, and prays powerful villain to spare her beloved Adolphus--powerful villain scowls blacker, and turns up his lip--heroine gets more distracted than before--scowly villain won't relent--suffering young lady piles on the agony, and implores him "to save my father from a dungeon, and take this wretched hand." Powerful villain evidently going to do it, when heroic lover comes down on a run, throws one arm around his lady-love, draws his sword with the other, strikes a grand attitude, and makes a terrific face at powerful villain, who disappears incontinently--lover drops his bloodthirsty weapon, slaps his hand on his breast, and the interesting pair pokes their head over each other's shoulders, and embrace in the orthodox stage fashion. Scene closes. Magnificent chamber, furnished with a square-legged table, two chairs, and carpets whose shortcomings are distinctly visible to the naked eye--triumphal march, long dose of trumpet, administered in a flourish--supposed to portend the advent of royalty. Enter procession of badly scared "supes," with cork whiskers, wooden spears, pasteboard helmets, tin shields resplendent with Dutch metal, and sandals of ingenious construction and variety--they march in in single file, treading on each other's heels, keeping step with the majestic regularity of a crowd of frightened sheep escaping from a pursuing bull-dog, and form a line which looks like a rainbow with a broken back. King swaggers in, looking very wild--distracted heroine enters all in tears, her hair down her back, her sleeves rolled up, (evidently being convinced that "_Jerdon_ is a hard road,") and her general appearance expressive of great agony of mind. She makes a tearing speech to the king, during which she rolls up her eyes, throws her arms about, wrings her hands, pitches about in a certain and unreliable manner, like a galvanized frog--sinks on her knees, rumples her hair, yells, cries, whispers, screams, squirms, begs, entreats, dances, wriggles, shakes her fist at powerful villain--stretches forth her hand to heaven--throws her train around as if she was cracking a coach whip--slides about like a small boy on skates, and at length, when she has exerted herself till she is hoarse, she faints into the arms of heroic lover, who stands convenient; her body from the waist up being in a deep swoon, while her locomotive apparatus retains its usual action, and walks off without assistance, although the inanimate part of her is borne away in the careful arms of the enamored swain in the dirty tights.